Thursday, June 4, 2009

Trash Talking, Threes and Blisters.

I've been reunited with my competitive demon. It's the part of me I never wanted to see again, but she's back. It's been months, well considering I hated college basketball, it's been years since I've enjoyed or cared to play basketball. I've had my little glimpses here and there of joy, but nothing too reassuring that I might actually love the game. It all happened on Memorial Day when my dear friend Kayla was spending the holiday with my family. Kayla is still a prisoner of college basketball, so her horrible hobby tends to follow our friendship around and stress both of us out. Hearing her stories sends me into my instinctive combat mode. The negativity streams through my veins and creates some of my best verbal attacks. It's sick, really. So entertaining and therapeutic.

Now it is known that my family used to have quite the competitive side. Over the years we have all calmed down immensely with our rage and competitiveness. Which is a giant blessing for someone who has failures. LOL. Well it is Memorial Day and Karen decides to get out the bocci ball set. Italian bowling, really? This was the beginning of my competitive down fall. After Kayla and I destroyed and trash talked my nine year old niece Quinn and my sister-in-law Kaydee, it still wasn't enough! All of the sudden Kayla and I weren't satisfied with our team win, we wanted to kill each other too. Before I knew it, I was lacing up my J's and raising the basketball hoop on the driveway to the legal 10 ft. regulation height. Kayla was fueling my demonic athletic side with her verbal and physical trash talking. Little shit. We can thank her for my downfall.

We play a couple games of horse and 21. It was intense, and to my disappointment my nephew Christian kept screaming that I was losing. So much for family support, bud. I was fine at first, but could feel my competitiveness starting to boil... after a couple games Kayla and I were screaming at each other because of a misunderstanding in rules and the fact that she can't count worth a shit. It has been so long since I've cared about winning or losing a game of basketball. With my family in my backyard and the next door neighbors who go to my parents church and all their family in their yard, I was screaming the most unkind and irreverent words at the top of my lungs. I apologize for the loss of face to my family, I'm sure they'll get some unkind glares at church for their "failure" in raising a well mannered and lady like daughter... To my surprise Kayla held her ground and in the middle of our verbal battle she kindly reminded both of us how much we enjoy acting like completely insane animals by saying, "I love us". This was my breaking point, my demons have been released and you can all thank Kayla for that. I then went on to join two recreational basketball teams, and started playing pick-up with the college girls that are home for the summer. I'm addicted! My feet are falling apart and my back feels like an antique. Someone please help me. Burn my Jordan's and break my wrists... I can't stop. I'm shooting unreal percentages!



Kayla Burningham, "The Instigator"




2 comments:

Lanea Sampson said...

Chelsea-I came across your blog and LOVE the way you write! I completely understand -I'm the mother of a basketball player AND I have the garbage mouth! You're darling!

Erin and James said...

hillarious! i love you.
james and I played cards with my parens while in cali last week. my dad said "this is why I don't play games with erin"
because the hulk comes out.