Ugh. Today sucked.
The book I needed at the library was checked out. I had to reset my password for my account at the CS computer labs. My CS 337 prof went over, so I missed my usual bus. I didn't get home until 5:05PM.
While I was walking from the bus stop to my door, I took some pictures of the damage that drunk driver left. You can find it on my moblog. I also saw some people playing basketball at the apartments' court. So, I changed and headed over there. I recognized one of the guys. He whips my bro and I everytime. Well, he had 2 friends with him. They were good too. Way better than me. I didn't want to walk away with my tail between my legs, so I played a game of 21 with them.
I know when I'm beat. I know when someone is just better than me. These guys were in a class of their own. I'm not there yet. I missed all 3 of my shots, but I had a steal and a decent defensive play. But wow. They were all 4 or 5 inches taller than me, had about 60 pounds on me, and 2 of them might have been quicker than me. Amazing really.
I went back home and told my bro about how these guys were good. He played it off as though he would have been good out there too. Nope. He must still be under the impression that he's the best player in the world. He's not. Not even in the apartment complex. Not even in this apartment.
He's quite the sore loser. In fact, the last time I won, I walked away with that elbow scrape. The pic is in my moblog also. There's still a big scar. The last time we played, I walked off the court because he threw an elbow. So, I just play half-ass offense and defense while he goes after his own rebound and tries to muscle in a shot. Whatever. If it means that much to him...
Given my size, I'm not a physical player. I have to rely on finesse and quickness. If an opponent wants to win by playing dirty, I'll let them. I'll get out of the way. I like my games nice and clean. I don't have to resort to elbows and slaps to win.
And honestly, I'm not nearly as competitive as my bro. I don't care if I lose. If I shoot terrible, I'm going to accept it. I might get frustrated, but I won't act that way. If I have a good game, I'll smile. But I'm not going to do victory dances.
I guess it all boils down to having control over your emotions and attitude. I wish everyone could have that kind of control.
2 comments:
What the hell are you rambling on about? There is no such thing as "nice and clean" basketball. What makes someone good is his/her ability to adapt to any style. Moreover, how you act on the court reflects your character. You don't give up just because he is playing the way you don't want to play. You play harder, and show him that you can beat him at his own game. Height and weight is irrevelant - heart is all that matters.
But none the less, your bro is a sore loser. Control over emotions and attitude? I sure know this guy who kicks fences (or the boards under them) when things go wrong. You know, that same guy likes to hit things as well.
There is nice and clean (which by the way, does exist), there is close to the line, and then there's spitting on the line. I'll play along if it's close to being unsportsman-like conduct. I took a shoulder to the nose against those guys. But he wasn't purposely running into me. I got in the way. But when a player with the ball goes out of his way to hit you, that's too much.
And it's not giving up. It's saving my health and body. If I stayed and tried to throw elbows against my bro, he would surely get more pissed off. And considering that I live with him, that's not a good idea.
And while you say that height and weight are irrelevant, I say that's a load of crap. All the heart in the world isn't going to help me defend Shaq, or Tim Duncan. If a guy is taller, bigger, and just as fast, you're going to get beat 9 times out of 10. And I'm saying 90% because there's bound to be luck involved.
I might take my anger out on inanimate objects, but have I ever purposely hit someone or fouled them because I was mad? Nope. Never. You tell me how many scars I've given you. Hell, ask anyone I've ever played with.
And don't think it's about toughness. You've seen me take two basketballs to the face, with a cut on my nose being the result, and I kept playing.
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