Wednesday, February 4, 2009
This is a shot of the exact same marsh and structures from yesterday, except here I didn't zoom in. Speaking of shots and zooming up the court, I turn to the topic of basketball - girls' basketball.
Sunday was the Super Bowl, which is the only time you will catch Chesapeake Bay Woman watching football due to personal reasons which date back to the 1980's and have everything to do with male-dominated sports overshadowing women's sports, but this is a topic better discussed with a trained professional who specializes in Anger Management. Anyway, I was screaming until the bitter end of the game and was all jacked up.
Monday night I attended the Mathews High School girls' varsity district championship game against West Point (MHS won). I knew two players: Anonymous Hallieford Resident's Daughter (the same one who attended The Inaugural Ball and took my gown up there with her; the same one who reminds me of my young self oh so long ago) and Briana, who is perfection and poetry in motion on the basketball court. I helped her with high jumping last year in track, and she is a rare gift to a coach. The world will be her (perfectly fried) oyster after high school. I broke into a sweat watching the MHS team play - they are very good, very scrappy, and they don't take anything from anyone, including West Point. (Sorry, Big Hair Envy, I love you, and I know that's your old stomping grounds and all, but a West Point girl broke a track record of mine this spring, and I'm out for blood.)
Tuesday night I traveled to Chesapeake Academy in nearby Irvington to watch Chesapeake Bay Daughter, ten years old, play the scrappiest, most intense game of basketball I've ever seen her play. She had I-don't-know-how-many steals and points, but it was double digits in both categories. This caused some adrenaline to flow through these old veins at the same rate as water from a leak in the Hoover Dam.
We have now arrived at the brief math portion of this post:
Sunday + Monday + Tuesday = Chesapeake Bay Woman all jacked up on sports and wishing she were still out there playing. She was born to be a contender, not a spectator.
Is there anyone recruiting for a 44-Year-Old Has-Been Athlete who has a ferociously competitive, if not unrealistically confident, spirit?
I didn't think so, but thought I'd ask.
p.s. In one of my many, many boxes of stuff that would have been thrown away long ago by a normal person, I found a program from one of my district basketball tournaments in the early 1980's. Guess who was listed on one of the opposing teams? Go ahead, try again.
There, among a host of other names, was Big Hair Envy's name. Yes. I played against her in high school but didn't discover this until recently. In fact, I didn't know her until recently.
p.p.s. I found another brochure from the 1980 district tournament and in it was an article that said, "Tammy S. led Mathews with 26 points making 12 of 19 field goal attempts. Chesapeake Bay Woman had 22 rebounds."
p.p.s.s. If Chesapeake Bay Woman had a nickel for every rebound she attempted to make tonight at her daughter's game--swatting the air like a maniac while screaming at those girls to get up off their feet--well, she'd have quite a few nickels.
Probably more than 22.