I Really Should Hang My "J's" up.

The magoo ref is SO on your team!

There are a few things we hate to admit as individuals. Things such as, when we are wrong, we are addicted to shitty reality T.V., we were Hansen super fans, and that God did in fact make the brand of our own farts tolerable out of mercy. Don't deny it, the jig is up. One thing I personally hate to admit is that I am playing recreational basketball. I swore to basketball God's that I would never convert to such chaos and violence. This sport should be in a category of its own, because there are only small similarities and glimpses of basketball within the sport of "recreational basketball". Pretty much the only similarity is the fact that they are both labeled "basketball".  

Getting back to my point, the entire setting is a nightmare. The gym is extremely hot and muggy, the smell, the people attracted and open to the idea of lacing up their "J's" and attempting to play again. It is just your average shit show. The most unbearable fact to admit about recreational basketball is that we are actually paying to have this experience. (Thank heaven's Kare bear, a.k.a. my mom, cut me a fat check to pay off my debts to Salt Lake City's Parks and Recreation cause home girl is broke) We are paying to go feel sorry about our skills that have diminished and died over the days, weeks, months and for the really misfortunate, even years! It is extremely frustrating and a shot to your ego to have a talent and then lose it. And by lose it I mean, never see that shit again. We are products that have lost their value to fun, independence, happiness, and snowboarding. :) No more coaches, suicides, discipline, physical and verbal harassment or diets! It's fantastic to give up something so time consuming to actually be fat and happy. Not everyone can see the plus side of being overweight like a college athlete. 

Now that I am done hating on the organized sport that is basketball. Let me tell you, the reader, about my recreational experience tonight. For those of you that know me, you know that I have always been a one side of the court kind of gal. Meaning that I only play offense and portions of defense, and I only play the "D" word when it is severely needed to win the ball game. Well tonight I played a little "D". To my surprise it was somewhat fulfilling and fun. The team we played tonight had some questionable souls suited up. Is it just me or are we going to have to change the rules and regulations for women's sports? Gender checks are becoming a MUST. I swear they were yelling "Jerry", not "Carrie". We might have to change the dress code to skirts so there is no questions asked. Anyways... "Jerry" or I mean, "Carrie" , the most questionable gal on their squad, ended up being my victim of the day. Since I decided to play a little defense, she unfortunately got a lot of shoves and elbows. Not knowing the strength of my own "shreik" like finger, I jammed it into her nose while attempting a routine swipe at the ball, hopefully hit you in your face maneuver. This move was taught at the ever so lovely Taylorsville High School. Go warriors! Holla! The whistle was blown, but to my amazement it wasn't for a foul, but for the fact that her face was bleeding excessively. DIRECT HIT! I sunk her battle ship. :) 

After a 5 to 10 minute break to stop her bleeding orifice, I decided there was probably a target on my back. I had hit at least 4 out of the 5 of their players and was not Miss Congeniality of the night, by any means. I felt bad for her... he seemed like a nice guy, I mean girl. 

We resumed play and to my surprise the victim of my facial didn't not attack me, but she closed lined my sis on a routine wide open left handed lay up. (Her favorite kind of lay up, she has a strange mental block and phobia of the right side. Odd, she's right handed) I ran to her side to protect her from a after shock kick to the face or maybe a slip of a cell phone number for an after party. Both equally painful and embarrassing. I picked my friend up and thanked her for taking the heat for my powerful pinky. SKADOOSH! Although I got out with no broken bones or bruises, another win under my belt, and the knowledge that my friend has got my back, even when a scary shim(she him) is flying at her like a squirrel, I still don't know if it's worth coming out of my comfortable and lazy retirement. Someone please sit me down and tell me to give it up! I'm old, abusive and don't stretch properly before games. Something bad is bound to happen via rec ball.