So I Postdate Blogs...

Well, I may be writing ahead, but I felt the need to tell a story.

I was just perusing emails I save and I found one from my dad referencing the classic "We're not last!" story. So I shall now tell it here. I've always had a history of being on teams that love the game, though lack the talent. My brother being slightly taller than the average bear made me grow up watching him play basketball. When I came of age (10), I joined the team, too. I was not of amazing ability, but was a nicely aggressive defensive player and I could dribble the ball. Due to some team restructuring that is now foggy in my memory, the really good players got bumped up to the 7th and 8th grade team. This left me one of the star players... of an okay, I guess, team. But we loved it. We went to a tournament. I still the highlight was being crammed into my parents' minivan on the way down (to Racine?) rocking out to Jock Jams. But we played our little hearts out, earning ourselves the prized game -- battling it out over being last or second to last. We found the humour in it, and thriving on our good spirit, won our only game of the tournament.

We were ecstatic. We ran into our locker room chanting, "We're not last!! We're not last!!" We were laughing hysterically until someone realised our faux pas -- the other team happened to be sharing our locker room. It was awful and hilarious and has gone down in family lore.

I know that our team rapidly improved (as 10 year olds do) and I think we even finished the next year undefeated. It was still not nearly as fun.