Anyway, we played some mo' basketball on Wednesday, and we played five first-to-eleven-points-with-a-lead-of-two games, and it was me and Bros. T, Betenhausen, and Krevath against dad, Nick or Alex, since they switched out a lot, along with Brother Bass and some seventeen nonmember called Clayton.
Needless to say (what am I talking about?), my team won, mostly because, well, we had the two best players on our team (Bro. T and Krevath) and the players with the most hustle (meaning me and Bro. Bethenhausen). So, out of four of five games, I was given the task of guarding Nick; which only turned bad when he had to guard me. The last game, however, Brother T reassigned me to my dad, and here's the discussion, as best as I can recall:
Bro. T: Okay, Jeremy, you've got your dad.
Me: *weak chuckle* What?
So you know, I went over to guard my dad, him smiling the entire time; but like the Emperor, his overconfidence was his undoing. I blocked his shots more than once (though most of my blocks didn't fully work), once we got into the game, and though he completely shut me down on a shot I made, I think I gained some respect I had lost due to my performance. Nick, on the other hand, has his story of that night to tell... And now, I say, adieu.
1 comment:
Make him go to his left. It works every time.
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