For The Love Of The Game

When you are growing up, people (and by people I mean adults) always ask you want you want to be when you grow up. Kids give kid answers like starting second baseman for the New York Mets or a lawyer or whatever it takes to quiet that adult who's decided to feign interest in the life of a youth.

Seriously, it's a stupid question in its premise. Adults should ask and encourage kids to do what they love to do. What you want, what you need and what you love rarely link and sync up. But when they do, it's a beautiful thing.

I've wanted to be involved in sports all my life. At some time when I was at Boston University, I found a need to express myself on the written page and soon found that I loved writing about sports as much as I loved watching and playing them.

When I was walking around the second semester of my senior year at BU, people (and my people I mean any and everyone from well-minded adults to random classmates that you barely spoke with but happened to be by the keg when you walked up for your next drink) would find a way to ask "What are you going to do when you graduate?"

This question is about as dumb as the first one I mentioned. Just because I was able to get through this stage of my life, why should I know exactly what I'm doing next? Why should I tell you? Do you really care or are you just trying to fill "dead air" by feigning interest in someone you barely know?

Well, those were the questions tha raced through my mind and just to help fill the space and end the conversation, I told people I was moving to Portland, Oregon. You would be surprised how many people that shut up.

Looking back, this is one of those life-changing moments that I didn't take full realization of at the time. But don't get me wrong. To quote the great bard Curtis Jackson...

If I die today, I'm happy the way my life turned out.
All the shootouts, I done been in them by myself
Locked up, I was in the box by myself
I done made myself a millionaire by myself
Now s**t changed muthaf***a, I can hire some help

OK, so maybe I'm just talking about the first couple of lines of that, but it tastes so good once it hits your mouth...

Through the power of Facebook, an ex-girlfriend from a long time ago, long long time ago, befriended me and asked what I had been doing for the past decade. I was a big fan of my response so I'll reprint it here, mostly cuz it's all true.

So how things are going? Let's see...I once tried and failed to eat a 12-egg omelet in New Hampshire. Hung out on Fisher Island in the middle of Miami for a week. Watched the sun rise in the middle of Montana. Put my cat on a leash to see Mt. Rushmore. Was left by a state university employee in a Cancun airport with $300. Partied at a Daytona Beach club, hit a Waffle House and drove half-asleep across the state. Went from Kansas City to Raliegh, NC and back to pick up two cats. Cut my shoulder-length dreadlocks before my best friend's mother's wedding on a whim. Was offered a job to eventually work at the New York Times and turned it down to move sight unseen to Mississippi. Secretly regretted that decision for five years. Visited New Orleans weeks before Hurricane Katrina hit and haven't been back since and will celebrate two years of Naomi Jessica Kester on September 21.

Throughout all that mess, I was happy with my life because I my employment was based around a passion, around something I loved whether it be sports, writing or a combination of the two. And yes, I secretly did regret not taking a job that would have kept me in Florida, but then I would have never met my wife...

So what's the point behind all this babble? Similar to Kris' point from long ago, I'm at a crossroads. Only difference is I've been at this crossroads for more than a year, I'm still standing in the middle of the road and the paths in any direction seem to be taking me away from familiar ground, from things I love and enjoy to things to just help pay the bills.

I'm proud to say that I haven't worked a job that was just to help pay the bills since college, since I was a lackey in the Admissions Office, a cook/counter person for caf's Late Night menu, a paid peer advisor coordinator working as a secretary for the summer. I mean, even when I was waiting tables, it was at the best sports bar in the city so that didn't really count as work.

Now I'm looking at a mindless grunt moving an filing medical records or applying to try to become a police officer or a teacher. The final one has the most potential, the most appeal but the hoops necessary to leap through is silly. One would think a qualified black man trying to teach would be snatched up right away in this politically correct climate as someone "who could relate to the urban population", but I guess I'm not the only one...

Now what or what now, either way I don't know what to do next. What I want to do next, I'll relate next time which will be sooner than later.