So a couple weekends ago, fueled by my desire for happiness, I went to go see one of my inspirations on stage. His name is Steve Turre and if you are into music period, I suggest you check him out. Saturday night he was playing at Bohemian Caverns and it was as if the stars had aligned. I just so happened to be in NoVA that day and could not pass this up. Now that I have more free time on my hands I am making the most of this opportunity by truly finding myself and figuring out why I was put on this planet. As I sat there for over an hour listening to his quintet play there were some observations that helped me fine tune my goal. For those of you whole know me know I tamper in both music and computers, but figuring out which one I should pursue and commit to 100% has continued to be a source of frustration for me.
As I sat there I realized that everyone on that stage was over the age of 50. But more importantly I saw that everyone of those people on stage were in love with what they were doing. Most people I know around that age are simply waiting for retirement, and these guys showed no signs of slowing down. Now I know these guys are not making a ton of money, but that sure doesn't seem to affect them. How many people can say that they love what they do for a living? Now don't get me wrong, money sure does help, but should it trump a chance in doing what you love? This has been part of the battle that I have fought internally for years. It's interesting, when you grow up everyone encourages you by telling you "You can be whatever you want to be" in life, but they never quite tell you how to figure that out or that what you want to be in your life may conflict with what society sets as standards for a happy life. I am interested to know other peoples opinions on this, so please don't hesitate to comment.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Saturday, September 17, 2011
White men can jump?
Well ladies and gentlemen, it has been awhile since I have posted and I hate for this to be my first entry, but I have to release some frustration real quick. Basketball has never come easy to me as I did not grow up playing it, but there are some facets of the game that come natural to me. I am, by no means, the "average" black bball player in that I am not that good. I consider myself average at best. I can take the occasional shot and I can post-up and rebound decently. I don't have the crazy speed or the great handles that "we" have become synonymous with. I am not a skinny, tall dude who just has that knack for the game. I love playing the game because its great cardio. I play for the exercise, but I am competitive. I like to win whether it be the game or at least my match-up. Because I don't have the "typical" bball physique, I am often overlooked and ignored for playing pickup games. I would be lying if I told you it isnt frustrating. I l know I may not have the endurance to be "Kobe" or "Lebron" on the court, but that isn't my style. When I actually do get on the court I take solace in the fact that I proved them wrong. Well tonight wasn't that kind of night.
These guys were looking to play a pickup game and there were like 4 or 5 of us shooting on the court. They asked everyone except for me if they wanted to play a game. After one of them declined they went to the other court to find someone else to play. Keep in mind I was standing there the entire time. Finally when no one else would play, they asked me. I reluctantly accepted. I was matched up on this goofy looking white guy. He was a freshman so he had to be 18 or 19 years old and about 5'9". Me being a 5'10" big dude, I figured this would be a good night for me. Well it was far from it. This kid never made a single shot, but he had about 16 rebounds and like 12 assists. My team kept putting the blame on me for our consecutive losses. I was hot. I would box this dude out and then let one of them at the basket for the rebound, but each time they just stood there and let him go up for the rebound and then look at me. At some points I'd box him out, go for the guy driving in the paint, and then try and get the rebound. The white dude got some lucky bounces his way and the team kept looking at me like I was the sole person at fault. I'm sorry, why is the ball-handler in the damn paint? If y'all were guarding better he wouldn't even be here. Nevertheless we continued to play. My breaking point was right before our last game when this 5'1" skinny kid that was on my team suggested we trade assignments. I already was shooting 0 for 4 and then y'all are trying to tell me I can't guard this kid? I almost punched him in the face. At that point I was enraged. Every time this white kid even came close to the paint, I shoved him out mercilessly. I had had enough. The last game we finally won 13-3. But prior to that we had lost the other games. Now let me say this, I realize that there were definitely areas that I could improve. I could have more closely guarded him, but I kept assuming that my teammates would go for the rebounds. We all know were assuming gets ya. I had just had enough of this bs. I have not been this frustrated in a while. I can not wait to see them again so I can put some of this anger to good use...
These guys were looking to play a pickup game and there were like 4 or 5 of us shooting on the court. They asked everyone except for me if they wanted to play a game. After one of them declined they went to the other court to find someone else to play. Keep in mind I was standing there the entire time. Finally when no one else would play, they asked me. I reluctantly accepted. I was matched up on this goofy looking white guy. He was a freshman so he had to be 18 or 19 years old and about 5'9". Me being a 5'10" big dude, I figured this would be a good night for me. Well it was far from it. This kid never made a single shot, but he had about 16 rebounds and like 12 assists. My team kept putting the blame on me for our consecutive losses. I was hot. I would box this dude out and then let one of them at the basket for the rebound, but each time they just stood there and let him go up for the rebound and then look at me. At some points I'd box him out, go for the guy driving in the paint, and then try and get the rebound. The white dude got some lucky bounces his way and the team kept looking at me like I was the sole person at fault. I'm sorry, why is the ball-handler in the damn paint? If y'all were guarding better he wouldn't even be here. Nevertheless we continued to play. My breaking point was right before our last game when this 5'1" skinny kid that was on my team suggested we trade assignments. I already was shooting 0 for 4 and then y'all are trying to tell me I can't guard this kid? I almost punched him in the face. At that point I was enraged. Every time this white kid even came close to the paint, I shoved him out mercilessly. I had had enough. The last game we finally won 13-3. But prior to that we had lost the other games. Now let me say this, I realize that there were definitely areas that I could improve. I could have more closely guarded him, but I kept assuming that my teammates would go for the rebounds. We all know were assuming gets ya. I had just had enough of this bs. I have not been this frustrated in a while. I can not wait to see them again so I can put some of this anger to good use...
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