Tag Archives: Baseball

Murray Rothbard on sports.

“Of all areas of life, sports should be the arena least touched by politics. For the glory of being a sports fan is precisely that we are engaging in fun and play, that we are permitted to be ‘irrational’; that is, to be Yankee or Mets fans, to love our team and to hate the enemy, without having to ground these passions in systematic, moral or metaphysical theory. So it is particularity obnoxious when the gaggle of left Puritans invades and takes over the field of sports. Which they have done, of course, with a vengeance.

The Hate Thought squad has run rampant in sports for years. Veteran and respected sports figures, such as Al Campaneris and Jimmy the Greek, have seen their careers destroyed because they gave one politically improper answer to an interviewer’s question. No one dares even explore whether or not the answers were correct; their very expression is a hate-thought-crime; unlike other, seemingly graver, crimes, from their punishment there is no reprieve.

I like to think that sports writers are above politics’ that sports and only sports fill their minds. But now, they too have succumbed, and are, in fact, viciously leftist whenever politics is deemed relevant to sports.”

The Irrepresible Rothbard pdf.

More Murray Rothbard.

Even more Murray Rothbard.

Sports.

Anarch.

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How baseball began.

Let me tell you how I think the game of baseball started.

Some guy threw a rock at some other guy.

The other guy was pissed, and the first guy said “Take that stick and try to hit it back at me.”

The second guy said “Ok”, and then proceeded to get hit with the rock again.

Well, this time, he had a stick, so he proceeded to beat the shit out of the first guy with the stick.

Then the first guy said “Alright, alright. Let’s be civilized.” And they both knew that throwing rocks and hitting rocks was fun, so they came up with rules.

And that’s why the rules of baseball seem so weird: because it was a game constructed simply to keep men from killing each other due to having too much fun with balls and sticks.

…And don’t most rules come for that very reason?

Sports.

NBA 2K15 Charlotte Hornets Franchise.

Jokes.

Funny.

Videos that can only be categorized as “Comedy”.

Parodies.

Television and the Written Word

The nature of television and the nature of the written word are completely different.

I watch television when I want a break from thinking, because thinking and concentrating on a television are irreconcilable.

And then when I get bored with that, I read (and really want to write, as discussed in “The nature of writing is that you have to do it: the exhausting nature of the work which I wish to accomplish.“).

I hate television most of the time.

I only watch it, most of the time muted (as in the case of sports games), when I want the visual imagery to stimulate thoughts, but most of the time, it fails in that regard for long periods of time because of commercials, and the transitions between scenes hurts my brain to concentrate on them all individually.

Sports does an alright job of this, because I can still conceive of them (all of the different camera angles that they cut to) as occurring in one spatial plane, and thus, my brain can comprehend and conceive of what is going on more effectively.

But I watch it muted, because I know that what I want to achieve from watching sports is not going to come from a commentator.

Sadly, there is this ignorant trend that exists within our society to always ask “Are you sure about that?”, and one that heralds ambiguity of absolutes. “Are you sure that this is your favorite food? How do you know if you don’t try other foods?”

Of course, trying new foods can be a good thing, but it goes too far when you think that it is worthy to uphold the ordeal that none of us can find any foods to our disliking, and that we must eat it and eat it and eat it until we find it tasty.

That’s the attitude of the Left: it isn’t about giving things another shot, or opening up your mind: it’s about your will and desires becoming subservient to the ideas that the Left believes that you should have.

And whether or not the ideas of the Left are objectively good or not are questions “left” to countless scrutiny, as all ideas should be held to that standard, and which should be objectively understood and discussed, as I hope to do for all things, but especially those areas of interest to me.

And, as always, this comes back to each individual man’s ability to comprehend truth or not: objectivity. That truth never goes away, and because I am such a big thinker, this question is the only thing I care about in almost every area of my life, and sadly, people on the Left (and in other “directions”) are some of the ones trying to direct my thoughts in the ways that they see fitting, without providing any evidence besides their own wills, but if they have no argument as to why their will for me is more beneficial for me than my own, then they have no value to me. Their argument is typically that I should be subservient to them because it is in my best moral interest to be a listener, but, if they are being honest in their intentions, why is my moral interest more important than their moral interest? This is the altruistic message: that it is better for others to receive than for oneself to receive. But, of course, this is subject to many logical errors, and an intention that does not fit up to the logic (an attempt to achieve end A by means B that cannot work) needs to be recognized so that B can be discarded altogether, if, in fact, A is the ultimate desired goal.

Without this recognition, our actions will prove fruitless for the intended desires that we wish to fulfill, and this has been my entire position all along.

And people, for some reason, do not like very basic, easy to understand premises, and instead attempt to dismiss them with logical fallacies, so, no doubt, this will occur when I provide them with the example that “you can’t cure cancer by rubbing shit all over your face.” Their dismissal of this example, and countless other examples as being irrelevant is part of their problem of not being able to understand that if A is the goal, and B is not working, then you either must abandon B or B becomes the goal, and A changes.

These are the fundamental natures of stupidity and ignorance.

Our emotions, sadly, often get in the way of any objective understanding of any individual area of life. Now, to be clear, this does not mean that emotions are something that we should get rid of. Not only because we can’t, but because they do have value as far as our well-being goes. But the emotional clouding of judgment has been a problem for mankind since the dawn of time, and I believe that it will always be the case.

And when one is faced with negative things in the world, once must find a way to develop the best response that he thinks he can, and that is my attempt with my work and this piece.

Excerpts from “Breaking News: story 2 of the Apocalyptic series”.

News.

To the People that Say “You Can’t Judge A Book by Its Cover”.

An Analysis of my Own Anti-Business Mentality (or my Origin).

Evan Sayet – Understanding How Modern Liberals Think.

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My FAVORITE childhood sports memories, particularly baseball (not exhaustive). It’s writing style feels VERY poetic: my style <3 My style reminds me of "A Christmas Story." Read it, and you might agree. I know you will love it, but you CAN’T as much as I do. Enjoy.

There’s nothing quite like reminiscing.

Went to the ballfield that I played on as a kid. Recalled running soccer laps and comparing myself as a kid to World Cup players; recalled running the bases before I was even 10 years old; remembering how seldom I got on first in practice; second was even rarer and third was weird because I almost NEVER faced that way. Almost NEVER touched home.

Then, I came to the outfield, and I recalled my FAVORITE memories from baseball. Standing out here has ALWAYS made me happy.

Then I recalled my older years, and everything about them makes me as happy as I could be.

There’s too much to go into.

Then I recalled playing soccer on this field, and running laps. Then I thought about the World Cup. Then pro baseball players.

I was never that good. Didn’t understand the rules, but I had fun.

Remember wanting my dad to sign me up, and I’m glad he did.

I’ll try to remember some of my favorite sports memories.

I remember getting hits infrequently, and LOVING that feeling when the bat made solid contact with the ball.

I remember getting hit by a line drive at third at practice, and my mom freaking out and making me wear a chest protector underneath my uniform (which I didn’t wear that much).

I remember pretending to get drunk with two other outfield subs from Gatorade and our coaches getting mad at us.

I remember going to concessions in-game and everybody screaming at me when I got back, telling me that I had two strikes (I struck out to end the inning. Maybe even the game. I don’t quite remember. I think it could have been the game).

I remember a particular at-bat at Old Fort Elementary where I swung at a pitch head-high (I bat left-handed: I was always proud of being different and proud to be like my dad) and I hit it into right field, where I got a double and drove in two runs.

I remember the first year that I played first base. I was older, and I had the courage to ask the coach if I could try, and I guess he liked what he saw because I stayed there for the last few years of my career.

I hindcaught for someone that played for the Red Sox or one of their minor league teams, I think, at a traveling ball practice that my brother played in. He HAD to have thrown at least 70 and I took a fastball right to the jaw. I LOVED catching and wished I would have done it more.

I remember various coaches. I remember loving EVERYTHING about soccer, and being one of only TWO guys on one team one year, and ALWAYS getting kicked in the nuts with the ball, pretending that I got kicked in the stomach.

I ALWAYS had a boner that year, and it was hard to hide in those shorts.

I remember a specific soccer coach just now, while editing this. We went to Pizza Hut. I think we lost every game that we played, and I remember two guys in particular that played on my team and maybe a couple of girls, but even though we lost every game, I had fun. I wondered about that coach, though.

In other years, I played goalie a few times, and it felt indescribable. One time, it rained and I made several saves. I was wearing glasses (in fifth grade). I had GOTTEN the glasses because one school night, I stayed up late playing Twisted Metal III (like staying up until I was supposed to WAKE up). I lied and told mom that I had a headache, and for SOME reason, I ended up at the eye doctor (I think she asked “Can you see ok?”, and I was like “Uhhhhhhhhh” and purposely crossed my eyes while “reading”) I have other memories of this game as well, but I’ll probably discuss them another time.

I lied and pretended that I couldn’t read the chart (I could always see just fine), and I got two pairs of glasses: one pair that did absolutely NOTHING that I wore, and a stronger backup pair that made me sick. I wore the glasses for probably less than a year (I had ALWAYS thought that glasses were so cool).

I bought a $10 pair of Oakley sunglasses at one of my brother’s traveling games that had the lenses that would turn TWO different colors: gold and purple. I almost NEVER wore them.

I loved playing on the giant muddy hill when my brother played. Concession stand food was ALWAYS fantastic, and when I had a couple hundred saved up as a teenager, MAN did I LOVE that concession stand ❤

I remember being CONSTANTLY horny at the ballpark.

Whether I was playing or at one of my brother’s games.

I remember this ONE teammate that had a sister that would stand against the fence in the dugout and bend over. She was flirting with someone else on the team.

There’s too many good memories as far as plays are concerned. One particular pop fly that I caught; another one that I can’t remember if I did or not. A DIVING stop at second (the only time that I got to PLAY second, and I ABSOLUTELY loved it: the throws were so short to first, which I thought was funny, and I began to wonder about the science behind the different distances of the throws, as well as why these different positions existed from the creator of the game if there were so many differences to do the same goal: to get the guy out at first) on a grounder and a throw-out at first (one of the only successful dives that I can remember, and maybe one of the ONLY ones, honestly).

I didn’t understand baserunning as a fielder until WAY late in my career.

I remember a stolen base or two.

I remember getting on third in the last inning. We were behind. The ball got away from the catcher and I ran for home as fast as I could.

I got tagged out.

My coach was mad and said “Didn’t you hear me say ‘STOP!’?”

I didn’t care. I had never put in that much effort before while running the bases and I was SO proud of myself.

I remember bloody knees ALL throughout my childhood, as well as various injuries and stupid decisions RELATING to those injuries, such as crawling under metal bleachers at a baseball game and cutting my arm open, which I still have a scar for (I used to lie to myself and say that it happened in a bike accident so that I didn’t have to admit that my mom was right).

My favorite part was my teammates. When you had good teammates, nothing in baseball could beat that camaraderie.

I remember various pitchers on my team, and never getting to pitch.

I remember rainouts that couldn’t be made up.

I remember my dad’s stories when HE was a kid (he was APPARENTLY a good hitter), and I remember hearing stories about my grandpa and what he did with my dad as well.

I remember taking pitch after pitch after pitch while trying to philosophically understand baseball (why do we go from home to first instead of home to second? Wouldn’t it be interesting if we did that and had to avoid the pitcher while staying in the baseline? It seemed rather arbitrary. I didn’t understand sports or rules philosophically. I was less than 13 years old. PROBABLY not even 10. There is SO much space to throw a baseball (ACTUAL space) even when a catcher is in front of you. How do you know it will go straight? Because of this, I never liked throwing the baseball, and instead I thought about it (typical philosopher: all of the jokes are 100% true). Finally, I saw some kids throwing sidearm and I tried it, and I finally threw straighter and harder. The snapping of the wrist. Of course, I have COUNTLESS baseball video game memories with my brother and his friend, me being in charge of everything, starting, I believe, with Triple Play ’98 (Daryll Strawberry for the Yankees. The Yankees always KILLED in that game. My brother’s friend’s dad always played as the Pirates). I have played baseball video games for years, and I loved them. I still recently enjoy baseball video games (I think about them (and always have) and EVERYTHING philosophically. I’ll explain later).

I remember pizza parties and swimming parties after every season. I had some GREAT coaches.

I remember the house with the Pizza Hut roof, and church with various gifts in VBS (I LOVED the gifts, but some people got better stuff than did).

I remember my grandma coming to EVERY game, and always going out to eat afterwards, but that is a story for another time.

I remember thinking that batting gloves somehow made you a better hitter (I eventually stopped using them).

I remember a $40 Nike glove from Dick’s, I think, that was HUGE that was my second glove ever, that I used for most of my life (I still have it). I think I’ve ever owned two (the first got left out in the rain and got slugs in it at one point while sitting on the car on the carport that was broken down for years (the first car that I ever remember riding in: it was a Horizon) that had black widows in it, and my current glove got left out in the rain as well (I think it was “Hot Glove” that fixed it right up 😀

I remember being fascinated by the differences between gloves: how they fit, size, color, how they closed, etc.

I LOVED putting on my uniform and wearing it made me feel proud.

Basketball has its OWN set of memories, but I’ll remember them later.

I recall playing in a rainstorm and sewage with my brother (we thought it was mud). Dad came home to us playing in the drainage ditch in the front yard right beside the road. He was not too proud.

I also remember getting caught playing on the roof.

Trees are another day.

I remember when I only used computers for Windows 98 and solitaire (I didn’t even know that it was a non-computer game at first).

I could talk about my history with technology, and how I philosophically handled this situation.

I could talk about my personal history with how I deal with people telling me that I write too much (a joke).

I remember playing catch with my dad and brother.

We used to pitch to each other until we HIT each other, and Jason hit me in the ear and head from point blank range.

I remember he peed in my mouth and we fought until dad got home, and acted like nothing happened.

I remember getting into physical fights with my mom when I was younger. She never HAS had a lot of common sense, even though she’s always loved us (her lack of common sense causes problems, ESPECIALLY to me).

I remember her being gone for weeks at a time and moving out.

I remember my parents’, for lack of a better term, separation for a while.

I remember always being attracted to our friends’ moms.

I remember a particular group of friends that I’ll discuss later. We’d go over there at 7 pm or so and stay until 4 am Friday nights (and sometimes Saturdays). Our parents played card games: ESPECIALLY Phase 10 (I didn’t know this game was that old until looking this up. I thought it was recent, like invented when they started playing).

I’ll have to talk about my sports obsession when I was younger at a later date. (As well as troubles that I got into).

I remember climbing trees with this group of friends.

Stories will come later.

I ALWAYS had a boner underneath my athletic cup.

I had my own bat for a time.

Playing on the playgrounds and checking out attractive girls was the BEST ❤

I’ll discuss my church past at a later date.

I’ll probably also discuss my EMBARRASSING sexual history at some point, as well as how my nature that I’ve NOW accepted caused me a lot of problems in my past when I couldn’t.

I’ll also discuss my family life at a later date.

I can discuss my writing history, my education history molded by my nature, EMBARRASSING RELIGIOUS beliefs (if I can POSSIBLY remember them all), space walks, and EXTREMELY elaborate analysis of my past as experienced through my nature (it could take up novels), I’d like to AVOID the PAINFUL memories, which were usually my fault, and I’ll try to explain things that I’ve never tried to EXPLAIN before because of my anxiety and my lack of desire to deal with people, including deferring to them instead of standing up to them, as well as my analysis of the biggest people that I hate that caused the most damage to me. THAT will be difficult.

I can discuss elementary school; peer histories; lesson plan histories; gifts that teachers gave to me when the school year ended and why I wanted them; why my life is as it is today; fears from my past, explaining my personality (I have had an IMPOSSIBLE time explaining my desires to others, dealing with criticism of these desires, UNDERSTANDING them as well as explaining why I don’t listen to particular pieces of advice anymore (I don’t care what you have to say, and I’ll explain why); experiences with religious people; how my love for the offensive came into being; why I don’t like to read fiction and why I like to write it anyway; extended family memories; learning how to swim; family stories; memories of things being bought around the house and changes; toys; toys in the bathtub, bubble baths, McDonald’s, noticing the relationships behind how different parents parent differently, and philosophically wondering why and how these differences exist (as a kid); my intellectual history as a child, including what was said about me, what I thought, and what my favorite things to do were; my earliest memories; childhood fears; trying to explain the most intelligent aspects of my brain; why my personality is how it is today; why I like doing some things and not others; smells and the memories attached to them; what I thought about through all of my school years; reorganizations of the house; what I’ve been told about family from various people; my history with animals, board games, and video games; things that I don’t like to do, things that I’m not GOOD at, and WHY; ALL of my INFINITE repressions……………………………………………………………..

And here, I must stop for the sake of publishing, AND to keep from remembering my infinite repressions, because I don’t have infinite time (I should discuss my history with acting, movies and plays as well) and I could spend years writing this, but I can ALWAYS add more pieces to it later and the more I publish, the better chances I have of becoming professional (I’ll explain my professional theories later).

There’s too many things to get them all, but I have a reason for doing this, as you’ll read soon.

I truly hate this piece coming to an end, because I am SO forgetful and I CHERISH moments like this (I can never remember when I want to, and I’m afraid of forgetting my memories) and I am happy when they come.

I want to explain my history with science, with teachers, with school lunches and P.E., and my music history, and recess, and getting into trouble with teachers.

Saying prayers before bed, nightlights, cribs and bunkbeds. Cleaning rooms, cleaning the house, washing dishes, mom cooking dinner.

My embarrassments.

My history with puberty.

I GREATLY want to remember my previous thought processes. If I could ever put them into words, you would be blown away.

Growth is inevitable, and I’m growing through my past troubles AND my current ones.

I basically want to discuss ALL of my memories that I could POSSIBLY remember, but I don’t have time or space for this piece (I don’t think I would have written this if I had a photographic memory, for reasons that I discussed earlier, which is why I value spontaneity in my work, which I’ll discuss later).

That being said, I SADLY will end it now while it stirs through my brain, and I wonder why about everything.

This piece is not finished, but it also is, and I’ll explain why I do this with pieces at a later date.

But I REALLY want to write down this witty line before I forget it:

It’s AMAZING what you can remember from walking on an old baseball field

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Logic and Morality

You won’t be a professional writer if you don’t write.

You won’t be a professional musician if you don’t start making music.

You won’t be a professional comedian without jokes.

You won’t be a professional athlete without practice.

I think that people that whine about these professionals need to get off of their ass and fucking do something.

They’re lazy and they whine, and because people think it’s evil to be rich, people listen to them.

That’s a shame because the world would be a better place without it, with much more professional authors, musicians, comedians and athletes for people to enjoy.

A Memorandum on Dreams.

Moral Requirements and Passion.

The Link Between Bad Advice and Morality.

My Nature, My Enjoyment, and Notes About Desires and Perfection.

December 11, 2013.

Things that I have for sale on Kindle.

Where you can financially support me if you so desire.

People Need To Shut Up About Rich Athletes

I’m sick and tired of people bitching about how much money athletes make. A couple of things:

Go play baseball if you want their money. Just because you work hard doesn’t mean you deserve to be rich if the market doesn’t allow it. Look at McDonald’s: how much is someone willing to pay someone that flips burgers? Are you willing to pay $10 for a hamburger? Do you want him to get paid $10 every time he makes you a hamburger? Or would you be willing to pay $10 for your favorite teams sports hat? (Which, will go to the team, which, will be used to pay the players). People pay $5 for a shirt at Wal-Mart, or $40 for a football jersey, $75 for a football ticket, $10 for a football hat. You aren’t willing to pay that at Wal-Mart or McDonald’s. So a couple of things: the athletes will stop being rich when people like you and me stop buying their shit (which won’t happen), or when people are willing to pay $20 for a hamburger (which will never happen), so people need to shut up, suck it up, understand economics, and understand that just because your work is harder than someone else’s doesn’t mean that someone else is willing to pay you more. It’s common sense economics.

Not to mention that playing sports is not a skill set that everyone has. Everyone can flip burgers or lift boxes. That factors into the prices that people are paid as well. If you work at McDonald’s, you can easily be replaced by someone else. Go try to replace LeBron James or Peyton Manning. You can’t do it. What do I mean by replace? Some people will say “Who cares! They’re still getting paid too much!” People are willing to pay hundreds of dollars for these jerseys because they are good at what they do. Therefore, their skills make them worthy of whatever their owners are willing to pay them, because those players’ market values (and talent) are not easily replaced, which means that the owners would not be making as much money as they do without them.

To say that football players should not be paid as much as the owners are willing to pay them is a direct violation of the owner’s right to spend his money as he chooses. It’s none of your business to tell him how to spend his money just because you are poor. Do you want people who are more poor than you telling you how to spend your money?

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Aspects of competition that I love, hate, and why

I always wanted an audience for my writing, and now I have one. ❤

Thank you guys :’)

Baseball: I love baseball because my dad let me play when I was younger. I didn’t understand any of the rules or strategy until I was much older, but catching the ball was always exciting to me. Feeling the ball pop in your glove from a pop-fly or making a diving catch or having to run a long way for the ball was always exciting. I liked being at bat because patience was rewarded, and I liked getting walked. It took me a long time to get the gist of hitting, but I had a few really good hits in my career (I’m not claiming to be good by ANY means lol) but the few solid hits that I got were worth my playing career even if I wasn’t as good as my dad was when he played or even my brother. Throwing was always my weakest part, as I didn’t have the confidence in my arm to throw it where I wanted to. I only hind-caught at one practice of my brother’s and I loved every second of it. As I got older, I enjoyed the pitching aspect a lot more, watching people’s windups and the mental aspect of the game as to what pitch to throw and where. I also love seeing teams that are bad because I want to know why they are so bad. In my later years, the camaraderie of the team was something that was irreplaceable. A bunch of guys that you have never been with and friends that were your friends were life coming to play ball was the best part. Goofing off in the dugout while you’re getting blown out were fun times. Everyone was there to have fun and it was great. I wouldn’t trade that for being drafted in the MLB. The only thing that ruined it were a couple of coaches that took the game too seriously, but the camaraderie was just amazing. I hated it when we had to go back out on the field (for a while at least) because the dugout camaraderie was so fun. I hated playing the outfield because people always yelled at you, but as I got older, I loved running after the ball. It was so fun, even in practice. But I hated throwing the ball into the cutoff man. I got to play shortstop one game after someone didn’t show up and I made a diving catch and a throw to second I think to start a double play and that was one of my defensive highlights. I just reacted and didn’t think I could do it lol I hated running the bases though. I was too aggressive for the speed that I had lol I hated a couple of my coaches, too. But a couple of solid hits that I got to right-field a couple of times were exhilarating. I got hit in the chest one time by a line-drive at third base one time at practice, so that was crazy. But I didn’t really think much of it. I couldn’t stand running the bases at practice, though.

Football: The main reason I loved football is because my dad would watch it all the time. I started out circling different names on a piece of paper as a kid that were apparently football teams and it turns out I was selecting who I thought would win, but I enjoyed watching comebacks before I knew any of the rules or strategy. It started out as a bonding experience with my dad, but when I got to school I got ridiculed a lot so I kind of turned against it. I really enjoyed watching the deep passes and catches and I would watch NFL classics all the time. I’ve always enjoyed them for some reason that I’ve never understood. I don’t really care about the big hits, but I love watching quarterbacks throw pretty passes. I would go in the backyard and throw a football all the time pretending I was getting pressured and throwing a perfect pass. I never got to play in any leagues, though. I also enjoyed how excited everyone was who watched the NFL. The weather games are also one of my favorite parts of the game, and I love watching terrible teams play for some reason. I guess I just like to know how a team can be so bad. It’s extremely fascinating. I love running after a pass and trying to catch a throw, but I’d hate wearing all of those pads. I wore a helmet one time and tried to pat myself on the head to see what it felt like and it was too loud for me. I’ve always had sensitive ears and had a lot of problems with them as a kid.

Basketball: Oh, basketball. My first true love. When I first started playing, I just ran around and when someone came into the paint, try to stop them and I usually fouled them. At first, I was afraid of fouls because I knew you could “foul out” and my main goal was to not do that. If I did that, I thought I had won. I usually played forward and my coaches had said “stay between this line and here”, so I just did that over and over. I don’t remember when it happened, but I finally got aggressive and played the center position and scored a lot of points in the paint off of the backboard and guarded anyone who came into the paint as hard as I could and tried to start fast breaks, but I almost always turned the ball over when I did that. I couldn’t handle the ball (I wasn’t confident back then) so I usually just passed it to the ball-handlers on the team. Basketball provided some of the greatest highlights of my playing career. I hit an off-balance three pointer (I think the first I had ever made. I had attempted some before, maybe two or three, but missed them) to either tie or win a game late. I think I saved a ball that was heading out of bounds in the corner or I got passed the ball near the top of the key and tried to dribble open but couldn’t and had to shoot a fade-away shot in the corner as the buzzer sounded. Another highlight though that I’m most proud of (as the shot was mainly luck) was a defensive play I made a couple of years before that. Our team had just hit a basket to put us ahead and everyone on my team was pressing as the clock was winding down. I saw one of their players bolt towards their open net and there was no one back defending a potential open lay-up. So I sprinted as hard as I could and the in- bounder tried to chuck the ball to him. I jumped and tipped the ball away as the buzzer sounded and the whole gym erupted. I was almost deaf. We were playing at home and I was so fucking excited. All of the parents were cheering me and my mom was SO proud of me. When I got to Jr. High, we played basketball almost everyday and that is where my appreciation of the game really blossomed. I really started to develop a good shot. When I was in about ninth or maybe tenth grade, I would go in the backyard and shoot every shot imaginable for hours. I would go to the school or stay in the backyard and sometimes shoot from about 4:30 in the afternoon until almost 10 o’ clock at night: sometimes much later. One of my coaches taught me about the physical nature of basketball, and that was another pivotal moment for me. Before that, I had just guarded whomever came into the paint with the fear of fouling them (by the way, back then I was never confident at free throws and never understood fouls) and I never understood what constituted a travel (got called for a lot of those), but one of my coaches taught me how to be physical. There were only two players, maybe three or four and practice that day. My coach was teaching rebounding, and I was only getting the ball when it was coming right to me. That’s what I thought I was supposed to do. But my coach said “Go get that ball. That ball is yours.” So I went after it. Then he blocked me out (I didn’t know what it was called at the time), and he said “Get around me. That’s still your ball.” So I tried to get around him and I realized that contact was ok. I finally started boxing people out and that was the first time that I had ever gotten aggressive in the paint. That was MY paint and I was going to defend it at all costs, regardless of whether or not I fouled out (and I fouled out several times) and I called for the ball in the paint and hit a lot of bankers. I got fouled quite a bit but my free throw shooting was poor as the pressure got to me most of the time. I finally started getting confident after getting my ass kicked in high-school consistently. I was tired of not handling the ball or getting rebounds and it pissed me off so bad that I kept playing and kept playing because I knew no one thought I could play, and that has fueled me to this day and has developed my passion for the game. Now I can dribble, rebound, and shoot better than I ever could and my knowledge of the game has skyrocketed about the rules and strategy, and it’s a passion that I’m going to take with me up until my deathbed. Coaching is fun and the mental aspect of the game is just as fun as the physical aspect. Trying to get open, hitting teammates, guarding people. The whole game is just a beautiful game, and I thank Jerry Naismith greatly for it.

Ice hockey: I love ice hockey because it’s so foreign. I like different things and, being from the South, ice hockey is EXTREMELY foreign. I love the sounds that it makes (the skating, the slap-shots, the players hitting the boards) and the hockey sticks remind me of eating popsicles and the wooden sticks that they were always frozen on. I like the “kuh” sound that you hear a lot from the game and the sounds are just appealing to me for some reason, and the beautifully orchestrated skating that is interrupted by the violent hits is appealing to me. Football is too regimented for me: I like the freedom that ice hockey provides. Plus I think it would be cool to play a sport in a cold venue.

Golf: I always wanted to play golf. It’s fun because of the judgment you have to use to time your shots just right and I like the way it feels when you swing a golf club.

Poker: I love the psychology that goes on in a poker hand. Bluffing, reading your opponent and determining how much to bet are my FAVORITE parts. I don’t really care about the strengths of the hands.

Auto racing: I hated racing cars myself, but my friend has turned me on to racing. I don’t like it when people try to get me to conform to something, and I always felt like cars were one of those things. I would rather be learning math than fixing a car (or fixing anything mechanical, for that matter. I always thought of it as a chore and never fun), but if I can learn things at my own pace without other people telling me what to do, I enjoy it a lot more). I hated driving go-carts because they were too loud and powerful for my sensitive brain, and I always floored it and got scared so I could never control it. That’s why, to this day, I still hate controlling vehicles. I loved riding in the go-cart with my uncle when I was a kid though. It was so fun.

Soccer: Soccer was always my favorite sport to play before I really got into basketball. It was fun to run around and try to kick the ball. I loved making sliding plays to kick the ball away from someone else, and it was fun to be on the sideline as well. I just loved hanging out with everybody. I enjoyed light-hearted practices, where no one was any good but we all tried, and I hated coaches that took it seriously and wanted to win and ran us to death. But kicking the ball was always fun. I got to play goalie one year and I was pretty decent at it. It was all just reactions, really. One year when I was wearing glasses, it was pouring rain while we were playing and my glasses were fogged up and I got hit right in the face with a shot and it bent my glasses but at least I could see lol (long story). I hated running up the hill at Nebo every practice to the point of exhaustion. That was pointless to me. That wasn’t why I was playing soccer. I wasn’t playing to get better, I was playing to have fun and that season was no fun at ALL.

August 18, 2012.

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