I was never a great athlete, per say (unless debate counts). I do like to play sports but I’m not particularly gifted in any one sport which is probably because I never cared enough to be good at any although Dan and I DID win the Outstanding Doubles Team Award my senior year in tennis. (Number of wins? That’s not important.) So it’s not like I ever really expect to be the best when I play any sport. In fact, Deanna beats me at racquetball which really just requires you to hit a ball against a wall. It’s not like it can go anywhere except right back to the hitter…I mean, come on, it’s played in a tiny four walled room. But I still really enjoy playing. And even though I lose most games in about all sports, I enjoy playing and tend to keep up with my competitor. That is, until today. Let me explain.

My high school sponsored an “Old-School/New-School Parent Child Basketball Tournament. The idea was that a child would play on the same team as his/her father/mother against other child/parent teams. Well, a lot of our children don’t have parents who are involved in their lives. So staff members were allowed to sign up with students if parents couldn’t play. I told my classes I was playing and immediately was approached by 250 pound Kyle. Kyle is a football player and I thought we’d be alright. Nope.

So I show up today ready. I went running last night, played some basketball for an hour or so just before running. You know just some simple preparation for our game. The coordinator of the tournament told us where we were playing and I’m all excited to get started. My belief was that we’d win a couple and lose a couple. Maybe go out in the fourth round. So I get to the court and I’m faced with Goliath and his brother. And Goliath’s got game. His brother, too. On this particular day, neither Kyle nor I acted like David. We lasted ten minutes and lost 10-4. I was surprised we made four points. I’m talking HUGE MoFos. They ended up going undefeated to win the tournament. Apparently, Goliath goes to our school. I’m not sure how I missed his ugly mug in the hallways. I know he’s taller than most of our students.

So we get our aces kicked. Hello loser’s bracket. You know, they should really call it something other than “loser’s bracket”. That killed any self-esteem I had left. We did much better in our second game but still fell short. This time we played two men our own size. Much more fair. See, since last September when I was at the pinnacle of fitness for myself (after building homes in Mexico) I’ve avoided the gym pretty well. I’m slower now and just not in good enough shape. So the parent I was guarding out ran me but just by a few steps. If it weren’t for him, we’d have won. His son sucked. Unfortunately time expired just as they took the lead.

Two hours later, my back is score as well as my legs which are extra tired from all the physical play. In Trenton, people play street ball. I was one of three white people in the entire gym. I couldn’t keep up. But I had fun. And I made a few pictures in my free-time before the tournament which another student put on a tee-shirt for me. Really, the shirt was the best part about it all. The pictures here are for your viewing pleasure. Probably you can tell which one is me and which is my partner Kyle. The dunking picture was on the front and on mine read WO-MACK DADDY. The trophy picture was on the back and symbolized us winning the tournament.