Thursday, December 01, 2005

I'm a broken drunk

I haven't done MSPaint in forever (2 weeks), so after reading about Conti's desire to dunk, I thought I'd share a story and do some MSPainting.

I was a problem child. I first got drunk in 8th grade. I first got caught drinking a few weeks later. I was horrible at it.

It was the end of my junior year in high school and I was grounded for the 7th time for getting caught drinking. I was allowed to go play basketball everyday after school with my friends, I just couldn’t go out at night. I played basketball everyday of my life from 8th grade until my senior year. Swimming was my true talent, but basketball was my true love.

There was a court near my house that had one regulation-sized hoop, and the other end had a hoop that was 6 inches low. Early in high school my friends and I would go there and try to dunk on the short rim. I was the shortest, and last to be able to do it. We would go and try every single day, then go home and do calf raises and other exercises to help in our goal. I was the last to be able to dunk on the low rim, but the first to be able to dunk on the regulation sized rim.

So, my 7th grounding ended and my first night out we went to play basketball. For the most part the games were me and my friends and a whole bunch of big ass black dudes. If we took team photos (and wore uniforms) this is what they would look like:

The short rimed side was people constantly trying to dunk, while the regulation side was normal b-ball. The regulation side almost never saw dunks except from the rare playground superstar (such as Cuttino Mobley who used to play at the court before he made the NBA). On my first night out I was especially hyped up and I was having a very good jumping night. In warm-ups I was dunking on the regulation rim without a problem. Shortly into the first game I was playing, I stole the ball and had a breakaway all by myself. I was in perfect position and went for the dunk. In a bizarre occurrence, I actually jumped too high and hit my wrist on the rim oddly and threw myself off balance.

I landed on my ass, breaking my fall with my wrist, and in turn I broke my wrist.

I went to the hospital to get it fixed where no orthopedic surgeon was on duty. My dad got pissed at the hospital for being short staffed, so he brought me home. Where I sat with a broken wrist for 3 days until my dad could find the best doctor who wasn’t affiliated with that hospital to fix it.

I had a full arm cast that whole summer. I learned to do everything left-handed. I continued to play basketball in 95 degree heat with a full arm cast. I improved my left-handed dribbling and I had the smelliest cast of all time. My full arm cast was eventually shortened to a forearm length cast, which was eventually removed.

My first night cast-free I was so excited. I went out and got drunk. And got caught for the 8th and final time. And was grounded for the rest of the summer. I quit drinking my entire senior year. I also still wipe my ass with my left hand.

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