-^-for posterity-^-

yesterday was the big day. we played in a game that would decide whether we played in the final game for first or second prize or whether or not we played in the third prize/honorable mention game. no one wants to play in the honorable mention game.

the game was set for early in the morning and we were all excited. we woke up at 5 and ate noodles in our uniforms in a tiny chinese cafe on the side of a road that was completely controlled by a large lady who smiled wonderfully. she would tell her husband what to do and he would quickly comply. he was tall and skinny.

we went to the court to practice before the sun rose. the other team had yet to arrive. we were all tense.

the other team came and we began to fret. they were tall and had tattoos. they had dyed hair and muscles. they were basketball players. we watched them out of the corners of our eyes as we warmed up. we watched every lay-up and shot we could. i think they did the same thing. the worst part of the morning was warming up.

the game began. we knew the stakes were high and the tip-off was between me and a giant wearing jersey number 4 who had an 'nba' tattoo on his shoulder. on his other shoulder he had a tattoo of the number four surrounded by barbed wire. he was serious and won the tip-off.

after the game began, everything was alright. the beginning tension all dissipated and we were simply playing basketball. it's like you're in another world playing in a sporting event in front of a couple of hundred people. they all cheer and yell and clap and the announcer says things but you really don't even notice them. you only notice when you're sitting still and someone's shooting a foul shot.

i was guarded by that same giant with a number 4 tattoo on his shoulder. he would shove and push but i was able to play fairly well.

at half time we were only trailing by two points and we thought we might be able to pull off an upset. the other team looked a bit nervous and we were feeling calm. there was one problem. i was too aggressive in the first half and already had four fouls. the other team knew this and constantly tried to drive on me and make me foul again. the coach of our team kept me in and told me simply and bluntly, 'don't foul anymore.' i didn't foul again the whole game which was a slight miracle.

the second half was exciting but both teams were tired. the sun was scorching and sapping us of our energy. in the middle of the fourth quarter, after being down by as many as 10 points, we came within 2 points. we were really going to do it. we were excited and ran back and fourth and played with all of our heart. there i was, in the middle of a basketball game that was being taken very seriously in a small town on the coast of vietnam sweating and yelling to my teammates. for a couple of minutes, everything seemed incredibly normal. it felt like i really belonged there and like i was really accepted. for a moment it was beautiful.

the half was coming to an end and we were down by four points. number four was shooting a foul shot and we were waiting for a rebound. he shot, missed and i grabbed the rebound. i figured we had about a minute and a half left so i went charging down the court. i dribbled by two players and only had one player to pass before i could score an easy lay-up. everything was spinning. the crowd wasn't there and i wasn't thinking about anything. i dribbled towards the net. i shifted to the right and then crossed over left. i was passing the defender when everything stopped. my left foot, when i went to plant it, twisted and crunched. all of my energy and momentum came to a sliding halt on the hot concrete. i slid to a stop, the ball rolled into the crowd and the whistle blew. i laid on the ground holding my ankle and the crowd started to laugh. they laughed and laughed and each giggle was a sharp blow. that may have hurt more than my ankle.

i couldn't properly walk and some people had to help me off the court. i was truly in incredible pain. i sat on the bench with my foot in the air and tried to find some ice. people were paying too much attention to the game to care.

the game ended and we lost by 6 points. we went back to our room which is in the middle of the complex and was surrounded by large crowds of people and rested. i laid down on a bamboo mat in the corner and asked for ice. the coach and older players that normally take such good care of me had completely forgotten about my existence. i was not there i did not exist. they were talking quickly about how we played well and how it was respectable and how third or fourth prize would be alright. i laid on the bamboo mat and propped my foot on a bucket. i shut my eyes.

i was running down a small cobble stone street in sevilla. it was late in the afternoon on a hot sunday. i usually ran in sevilla when most of my friends were busy. it was early january and things were quiet. i was at home alone with my senora. she had her own things to do so i basically walked around town all day. i was very lonely.

i ran down the street. it was the end of my run and i was almost home. i ran along side a row of cars and then everything stopped. i was all of the sudden on the ground in the middle of a cobble stone road looking up at the sky. my arm was bleeding and i was heaving for breath. it turned out that someone had opened their car door just a bit as i passed. the lady was very nice and asked to take me to the doctor but i said it was no problem and walked home.

i walked home down a small alley and cried. i was tired and hurt. i was alone. i cried as i walked down the street and i couldn't help it.

i was still sweating on my bamboo mat and staring up at the tin roof. the roof had holes in it and the beams that supported it were weak. my foot ached and throbbed and no one listened to my pleads for ice. everyone was too busy reminiscing about the game. i was in a room with 20 some people in a pagoda with a few hundred people milling about and i was more alone than i have ever been. i was one person floating on a raft in the middle of the ocean and i wanted to cry.