I had such a hard time picking just ONE more for this little retrospective. My runners-up were Say My Name and Role Maintenance, which if you haven’t been reading that long, I encourage you to check out. Good reading, if I do say so myself. Anyway, Monday is our official anniversary. Thanks for hanging with us!
Once upon a time, there was a boy named Andre. Little Andre had ridiculous skills on the basketball court from the time he was very young. He was the star of his little league team and the apple of his coach’s eye. For a long time, all Andre cared about was stepping up his shooting game. He was focused on basketball and didn’t pay attention to the hype about his talent. Yeah, he was good. That was truth- gospel- what more to talk about?
Our perceptive hero didn’t stay long with his head in the sand. As Andre got older, he started to notice that he could get whatever he wanted just by being good at something he already loved to do. He noticed that people wanted to be around him, cared about what he had to say (no matter how mundane), and really didn’t expect him to be good at anything else. He also started to notice…the girls. By the time Andre got to high school, he knew that he could pretty much pull any chick he saw.
Andre went to college on a full basketball scholarship. He walked onto campus feeling like HNIC from day one. Here again, he didn’t have to study, converse, give compliments, pay bills- other people did those things for him. Andre knew this was the life he was meant to live. And he lived it to the fullest until the day that disaster struck. Something so horrifying, so heinous, so calamitous, it’s almost too devastating to relate…he tore his ACL. Dear Reader, you may have seen this coming, but alas, poor Andre most certainly did not. And he was entirely unprepared to live in a world without basketball (or basketball boppers).
Never a quitter, our intrepid hero soldiered on. With difficulty, he completed his demanding course work and when he finally received his Bachelors of Basket Weaving, it was a hard-fought journey. He then began the arduous task of joining the workforce. In these trying economic times, it wasn’t easy, but Andre is nothing if not a fighter, and he eventually found a position.
With a sense of accomplishment, Andre assessed his life and become aware that something was missing. What was that nagging, that feeling of insufficiency? Oh, yes…the woman behind the man. Where was his soul mate- Mrs. Right? Or for that matter, where were all the Miss Right Nows? He’d never had this problem before…hmm, puzzling…
Blissfully unaware of his complete lack of personality, looks, skills in or on the telephone/dance floor/bedroom/dinner table, Andre set off to find his perfect match. And sadly…met a young Jai de Vivre.
Our wily heroine, having had some experience with the phenomenon known as the washed-up-student-athlete, quickly escaped his clutches. Confused for a moment- didn’t that dumb b*tch know a good man when she saw one- our hero rallied and ventured forth anew, unfazed on to the next one.
Fair lady reader, have you met him? Or one of his cousins, the Overweening Greek or the Pretentious Intellectual? To the gentleman in our audience, is there a female equivalent? Come forth with your tales of woe and adventure!
~Jai de Vivre
Grown Folks Talking
jaidevivre
Youmiss
mrsgrownlady
bookerdubois
He’s actually lucky to have torn his ACL. Worse would have been to graduate without doing anything and not make it to the NBA or any of the Euro teams.
At this day and age, and given how few players do make it to the NBA or NFL, and how injuries are a constant threat, I wonder, are there student athletes who don’t put at least an adequate amount of effort into academics?