|Now capable of taking risks|
|World's Best Cat|
Eventually we made it to the other side of town, half way through the third quarter of my daughter's first game. First game, in that the refs had to give constant mini-briefings on things like where to stand during free throws, what the lines mean, etc. etc. Obviously, no one was upset we were late. No one even cared, except they'd all been there before. And one mom says, "We have to fail like that some times, to give them something real to complain about."
|Hard Cider begins|
But the real trouble came in eighth grade, when my backwards parochial school finally got sports. First we got a new principal who no longer believed that sports were an abomination to god, a waste of time better spent in worship and devotions, 'cuz that's what we were all doing instead, right? So we first came up with a mascot, the terrifically frightening "CRUSADERS". No shit. We named our team after historical fanatics who killed anyone who didn't believe exactly as they did, including a ton of Muslims, obviously. Not that they didn't retaliate. But still. It was our fantasy that our fledgling sports teams imitate these studly pillars of the faith and slay our opponents mercilessly. Under this banner of Christ's love, I played volleyball, basketball and baseball. I loved basketball the most. I was a goddess at guarding, unsurpassed at passing, and a queen at dribbling. What I was not good at was 1) knowing the rules and following them and 2) making baskets. I wasn't good at making baskets because I never shot and I needed glasses, but we didn't know that yet. I mean, I really never ever shot. Until the very last game, we were 84 - 2 and my coach insisted that everyone had to pass me the ball until I made a basket. I nearly passed out from trying to keep from crying. On the one hand, no pressure. We're 82 points ahead; we ARE the crusaders. I couldn't possibly loose the game even if I tried. On the other hand, the entire fourth quarter was focused on me and my refusal to even try for a basket. I don't know if I ever did try. I don't know if I made one or not. But I have certainly retained a very intense memory and thought it over many times. My conclusion is that I was afraid to take a risk in front of everyone. I think it's the same reason I hate to shop in stores with big windows. I don't know, just that shooting baskets is a very private thing for me, I guess. Like pooping. I just need the doors shut and the fan on, is all. What do you think? What psychosis underlies my inability to take a shot in front of people?
|Pirate, Poirot, Death and Ood|
Later, I'd play pick up games with Orcas boys, who managed to put me on the "skins" team. Of course, I managed to get in with the "shirts" instead. I at least knew enough to play a decent game. And to take shots eventually, no matter how far afield they go.
I just quested for my McDonalds/Salvation Army team photos to show you how classy I looked in sixth grade with my perm and my goldenrod and red polyester uniform. I swear I've seen these photos recently. I think my mother handed them over because she figured I was finally responsible enough, with a cavernous enough house to take in my own memorabilia. Sorry, mom, you were wrong, apparently. Instead I found a suitcase full of 14-15 year old Sarajoy. And it messed with my head. I discovered that I have forgotten what sound like very sweet and lovely memories. Who was Laura, and why were we in her hallway? I also haven't changed enough. I wrote really messed up letters to people. I wrote excellent poetry, and some really bad stuff too. I wrote about my own death a lot. I was obsessed with death. I was seriously depressed and lonely and lost. And I feel all mixed up now, especially after watching 6th grade basketball last night. Am I 11? 14? 37?
|Fingers? Nah, they're people! With rights!|
Anyway, I watched Blue and knew she was going to respond to all of this very differently than I did. But just in case, we plotted our places on the learning curve, to show ourselves that there is more to learn and that we aren't expected to know it all right now. But soon, we will know so much more than we do, right? right? I'll know where her games are and she'll know where to stand during a free throw.