Lonesome Athlete

The Gym

Before I begin my story, I have to fill everyone in on what Marcus and I have been doing. I think I have made it very obvious that basketball is much more "laid back" in the land down under. With practice only twice a week, and games on the weekends, we both have TONS of time to use. So....we decided that we would get a part time job. Nothing big, just something to do for a couple hours a day, and put a little extra cash in our pockets to allow us to do some cool things while we are here. One of the players on our team helped get us a job at a telephone shop downtown. We are demonstrators. So all we do is from 11-3 each day we walked around and show people the internet on our model phones. However, most people really dont care, all they want to do is buy a phone, upgrade it, or complain about a problem. Since I cannot answer any of those questions, I just pass them right along to the rest of the staff. Today for example I spent my entire 4 hour working day checking email and watching Hall & Oates videos on youtube. Seriously, if I could be in any band back in the day it would be a toss up between the E Street Band, Traveling Wilburys, and Hall & Oates. Unfortunately the Hall & Oates name would cause a problem and we'd have to come up with something clever. Ok getting off point. So I am working the other day at the store and I look at to see a man dressed head to toe in an army outfit having a conversation....with himself. Since it is an outdoor mall, there are thousands of people walking around. And sure enough, this man is sitting at a table talking, outloud, to absolutely no one. At first I thought it was just strange. Then I thought it was really strange. I asked one of the other employees about it and she told me that he is there all the time. But the interesting day continued. After staring at the ex Vietnam Soldier who talks to himself for about an hour I then turned my attention elsewhere. There were drums, and horns, and shouting in the street. I thought cool, a parade. Nope, not even close, Dressed in bright orange shirts, with massive signs saying, "Help Support Zambia" and "Stop our government." Now...I'm no geography major...wait, yes I am. For those who dont know Zambia is NO where near Australia for one and two, I hardly have a feeling that Australian people are in any direct contact with Zambia. I could be wrong, but...nope they dont. I was actually going to join in because I have always wanted to do something like that. But when I put two and two together, it added up to 5. And that wasnt right. So I passed. With about an hour left to go in my already eventful 4 hour shift, it only got better. I approached a middle aged woman to ask her if she needed any help. She was an aboriginal lady with a beautiful long dress and about 7 total teeth. Apparently in her language, asking if she needs anything implies that we are now best friends and she is open to talk about her ENTIRE life. For the next 28 minutes (seriously, I watched the clock) she told me something about how her husband left in 1989, she has 3 kids who apparently have the same name, she goes clubbin (not dancing!) for the giant lizards in the bush, and she thinks I smell like fresh ground pepper. At some point I thought she was going to club me and put me across her fire. But all the story seemed choppy because I just couldnt stop staring at her teeth. Seriously, if I colored mine with permanant marker, didnt brush for 3 months, and played football without a helmet, they still find a way to edge out hers. I politely ended the coversation when it was time for me to leave and she said, "Gimme ur phone so I ring." I got what she meant. But there is no way on here I was giving Madam Bush Woman my number. Ah just another day in the life of S. Moore.

So here is the real message for today. Now do not misinterpret this message. I want everyone to know how much fun we both are having here. And honestly, I do believe that this is where God wants me to be. But something hit home the other week and I have to share it, because I think a lot of people will understand where I am coming from. No before I begin, please leave your pity and sorrow at the door, cuz I dont want any part of it! This is not why I am writing this message! Alright. Here we go. The other week we had a double header, one game on Friday and one game on Saturday against two tough teams. Coach pulled me aside on Friday night and told me that in order for us to win, I needed to lead this team. The first half begins and we just never really get into a rythem. At halftime we are down to our rivals by a couple points. I didnt play well the first half, so I decided to make my presence known. I huddled the team together before we began the 2nd half and gave them somewhat more than an earful. Man did something hit home. The next 24 minutes were absolutely beatiful. I dont think I have played a better half of basketball in my life. The team was rolling and so was I. Everytime our team got the ball, it was in my hands and up the floor in a flash. I felt great, quick, and made passes that would have made Pistol Pete roll over in his grave. I got to the basket whenever I wanted, and finished almost every shot I took. After the game was over, I just felt great about our teams performance and had that feeling in my stomach that we could be scary good. Here is what is different. After the game we shake hands with the other team and head into the locker room. Coach says a few words, we congratulated each other, hit the showers, got dressed and made our way back onto the court. This was always one of my favorite times as a player. Whether a great game or bad game, I always enjoyed the presence of my family and friends after a game. Just something about it that makes it worth while. Hearing your friends share memories with you, grandma giving you kisses saying you were great (whether you sucked or not), hearing dad say, "You shoulda hit your free throw in the second quarter" (yeah thanks dad), and so on. Having Coach grab your shoulder and whisper in your ear, "Way to play kid. Keep leading this team." Then exiting with your friends to have an after game meal and laugh. Thats what its all about. Not the time between the lines, but outside.

As I exit the locker room I made the turn for the gym. A reporter stopped to do a quick interview. As I continued I got an occasional great game Scott, or nice job American from a few parents or fans. Then I sat my bag down, and plopped on the bleachers tired, but smiling. Then I looked around. Marcus wasnt there because he injured his eye, so he was at home. But I saw the players come out and embrace their families. Hugs were shared, kisses were exchanged, and laughter filled with area. Friends met up with the players and some of the girlfriends/wives were hanging on their shoulders. Thats when my stomach went empty. I had just played the best half of basketball in my entire life, and I was all alone. Not a sad moment, but a different one I think. You dont realize how important those times are, until you dont have them. I'm doing something I have always dreamed about. I am playing professional basketball. I'm doing what others can only dream about doing. I get emails from players everyday that ask me, "How do I do what you and Marcus are doing, what did you guys do to get there?" And you know what, basketball is not what I love. Basketball is just something that brought us all together. Its something that I could do, that brought joy to others. Its just different when you dont have the people you love to share it with. I am glad that Marcus is here, but on a personal level I believe this will be the final time we play competitively TOGETHER. Sure there will be alumni games, and leagues, and this and that.

I do want to keep doing this. I love to travel and to see this world. And I want to do it while I can. So if the opportunity came, yes I would do it once again. I just wanted to share with everyone WHY this game means so much to us. I truly believe that I do it not for myself, as much as I do it for the people I love. So in a word, thank you to everyone. Thanks to mom and dad for never missing a game. I used to HATE having to hear dad tell me something after a game. Now after games he's the first one I want to talk to. Some kids would kill to have their parents come to one game. I would be worried if mine werent at one game. Nikki and Matt for making efforts when it meant cancelling their own plans and for making it so easy for both of us. Grandma and Grandpa for always being there to tell us how great we were, even though we may not of had a great game. Uncle Jerry for always having the right thing to say before or after. Mikey for being a great friend and going out of his way for us. And all of our friends that put basketball in perspective. You are what it is all about! We love you guys and miss everyone!

On a more cheerful note I met a girl whose parents happen to be richy rich and they own like 4 planes. Yeah, her dad is def taking Marcus and I up in one and letting us fly it! I thought I'd finish on a less teary ending!