All Balled Up

I screamed as if my life depended on it. My heart was in my dry dry dry throat, my eyes were bulging out of their sockets as my stomach twisted into infinite knots. Knots - it's such a cliche but one of the truer ones. It felt as if a boyscout practiced with my guts.


But still, I screamed, in the hopes that decibels would generate points and blocks and rebounds and true-to-life Space Jam miracles. But all it did was deafen my seatmates.
As the shot clock dwindled to zero, I could hear the boys' hearts shatter. Our office basketball team lost. 78-76.

We went up to our players, squeezed their sore arms, patted their sweaty backs and told them the perfunctory "It's okay." But both fan and player knew as they nodded meekly to each other that it was far far far from okay. Both knew that if it were socially acceptable to start throwing benches, punching walls, and tearing off referees' heads - both would be doing just that.
Because failing at something you've put so much of yourself into is never ever okay.
And yes, even if it's "just" a game.

Don't worry boys...it's not okay now but give it some time and it will be.





above photo from http://media.collegepublisher.com/media/paper849/stills/t55emqq1.jpg