Love of the game
Back in high school, we used to play basketball on just about a daily basis. Hot, cold, rain or shine, if we could get enough people, we'd be out on the blacktop.
Had a little taste of nostalgia this past Sunday when, after a particularly long consistory meeting, a bunch of us went out to the park at around 4 pm - right around the time the gray skies were darkening and beginning to cast down a light mist. We were able to play one game of full-speed 3-on-3 and had just started a 5-on-5 game when the rain began in earnest, soaking us from head to foot. Perhaps a little machismo pride crept in at this point, as through some unspoken agreement, we decided to continue playing. Sure, everyone was wise enough to go half-speed to make sure no one fell, and the water-soaked basketball quickly became twice as heavy as it should have been (making perimeter shots all but impossible). Moving around on the court left little foamy streaks across the surface of the court as our shoes churned up the layers of liquefied dust. Good times...
In other news, despite the absence of any Bay Area teams in the baseball playoffs, both the ALCS and the NLCS have been immensely entertaining. Drama up the wazoo, compelling characters, gut-wrenching pressure situations, and clutch performances... what a great playoffs.
The Cal Bears continue to roll. I see Arrington (uniform #30) take the handoff, hit the line and then cut back for a big gain, and I can't help but be reminded of Terrell Davis' #30 in his glory days with the Broncos.
Yao Ming is hilarious. Check out these quotes from the online excerpt from his recently-published autobiography:
My mom thought if I went to college, then I could stay in the city, find a job, find a girlfriend, take her out, then find another one, maybe change girlfriends four times a year, have a good life. -- Four girlfriends a year? Whatta playa!
When your mom calls you soft, you listen.
Even when I went to the sports school to play basketball, my parents never said, "You must win the championship" or "You must be the best." Some kids would tell their parents, "I got a good score. I got 95 out of 100 on my test." And the parents would ask, "Why didn't you get 100 points?" Or the parents would ask, "Who was first in your class?" If the kid said somebody got a better score, the parents would say, "You must beat them." My parents never said anything like that. The only time they'd say something was when my score was below 60. Then I'd get smacked. -- Sounds like Chinese parents in China are pretty much like Chinese parents in America...
One movie was supposedly based on a true story. It's about a Chinese soldier on a base near the end of the Korean War. He's the last one left; everybody else has died. He radios the Chinese air force and says, "Open fire. I'm the target." And then he grabs a bomb and runs into the middle of the U.S. soldiers. The planes use him as a target and he dies.That's how the movie ends.That's what it takes to be a hero in China. (See why I don't think I'm a hero or want to be called one?)
Back in high school, we used to play basketball on just about a daily basis. Hot, cold, rain or shine, if we could get enough people, we'd be out on the blacktop.
Had a little taste of nostalgia this past Sunday when, after a particularly long consistory meeting, a bunch of us went out to the park at around 4 pm - right around the time the gray skies were darkening and beginning to cast down a light mist. We were able to play one game of full-speed 3-on-3 and had just started a 5-on-5 game when the rain began in earnest, soaking us from head to foot. Perhaps a little machismo pride crept in at this point, as through some unspoken agreement, we decided to continue playing. Sure, everyone was wise enough to go half-speed to make sure no one fell, and the water-soaked basketball quickly became twice as heavy as it should have been (making perimeter shots all but impossible). Moving around on the court left little foamy streaks across the surface of the court as our shoes churned up the layers of liquefied dust. Good times...
In other news, despite the absence of any Bay Area teams in the baseball playoffs, both the ALCS and the NLCS have been immensely entertaining. Drama up the wazoo, compelling characters, gut-wrenching pressure situations, and clutch performances... what a great playoffs.
The Cal Bears continue to roll. I see Arrington (uniform #30) take the handoff, hit the line and then cut back for a big gain, and I can't help but be reminded of Terrell Davis' #30 in his glory days with the Broncos.
Yao Ming is hilarious. Check out these quotes from the online excerpt from his recently-published autobiography:
My mom thought if I went to college, then I could stay in the city, find a job, find a girlfriend, take her out, then find another one, maybe change girlfriends four times a year, have a good life. -- Four girlfriends a year? Whatta playa!
When your mom calls you soft, you listen.
Even when I went to the sports school to play basketball, my parents never said, "You must win the championship" or "You must be the best." Some kids would tell their parents, "I got a good score. I got 95 out of 100 on my test." And the parents would ask, "Why didn't you get 100 points?" Or the parents would ask, "Who was first in your class?" If the kid said somebody got a better score, the parents would say, "You must beat them." My parents never said anything like that. The only time they'd say something was when my score was below 60. Then I'd get smacked. -- Sounds like Chinese parents in China are pretty much like Chinese parents in America...
One movie was supposedly based on a true story. It's about a Chinese soldier on a base near the end of the Korean War. He's the last one left; everybody else has died. He radios the Chinese air force and says, "Open fire. I'm the target." And then he grabs a bomb and runs into the middle of the U.S. soldiers. The planes use him as a target and he dies.That's how the movie ends.That's what it takes to be a hero in China. (See why I don't think I'm a hero or want to be called one?)
posted by Bob at
11:22 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home