generation snap

Friday after school was a time for my father and I to bond. Usually he would pick me up after work over at my caretakers home and we would hit the fastfood restaurant of my choice. Hardees was the most logical, it was close to his apartment, and they had the Hardees town toys. Each meal provided a small town that made up a larger town that I stored at my grandparents home. I would eat my fries first, nibble at the buger while tenderly tearing the town out of its Hardee's Meal box. I would sip down the softdrink slowly, and save a little to wash down my burger. Of course my meal wasn't complete without chewing on the straw. My dad hated that habit. We would finish up at Hardees, hop in the car and drive to my second home in the Hi-rise. I enjoyed my weekends with my dad but this apartment was such a dreary place. Usually, we would sit down, watch TV , eat ice cream and I would pass-out on the couch and wake up on Saturday in the bed. I would run erands with him all weekend, and eventually be dropped off at home the following morning for church. That was the routine.
One weekend, My mom insisted that he drop me off at church instead of at home. This meant that I had to bring my dress clothes and shoes with me for the weekend. It rained that weekend...I dropped my Dress clothes in a puddle of rain, and boy did I ever get a mouthfull...All of his stress from work, the divorce and who knows what came out at me...it was the most difficult memory that I can remember. I was in shear shock...I trembled in fear...what would happen to me I thought. After he calmed down, he gave me a choice. Get the spanking or do some work...(Now come on....what would you choose?) So, I did the work...Which made him even more upset, but he put together a punishment: Writing I will not drop my clothes 4000 times, and I had to trace his handwritting. I had to miss church that weekend which put me in a difficult position. Will my Mom be upset with me because I dropped my clothes? Of course not, it was a simple mistake she said, I just have to be more careful next time...

This past friday I had my usual practice schedule, Pick up my cousin from his mother's job, drive to basketball practice. Coach for 2 hours, grab some fast food and kickback watch the TV and fall asleep. My cousin stays the night with me so that he can play in the Rec Leagues on Saturday. He also plays on my team. We had a tough practice on Friday, and Saturdays Game didn't result in a win. I was depressed, needed a drink and was fortunate that I had friends who were feeling my down spirits and they boosted my morale with jokes, "look at the bright side" speeches etc. But no matter what, the Saturday was just another hole in my soul. You see losses on the court due to agressive and well coached teams do not concern me. Bad losses based on turnovers and lazy defense will have result in a poor evening for ray.

I celebrate my victories with a quiet dinner at Thaicoon, my local sushi spot. I review in my mind what we did to achieve and what we can do to become better. But often I think about those nights in Detroit. The times when my Dad wouldn't come to the babysitters and pick me up. The over the top bitter arguments that my dad would bellow out when you simply are being a child. Then I compare myself...Coach Ray..to the OG Bobby Sams. Tempers are similar. Lifestyle the same. Drama breeds yelling and longwinded whining. I learned this lesson recently and it has changed my life. Snap. just like that. A generation of suppressed childhood drama was passing before my eyes. My cousin JD was a witness. The details I can't reveal, but overall, I realized what being a man was. No, it wasn't proving yourself during stress. It is all about your word, your respect and how well you relate to others. I had a whole team of kids who reflected my own interpersonal drama. (Heavy shit...) I responded with yelling and screaming massive suicides and running...(Deep!) Meanwhile, I pointed the finger at them...as most coaches would. But that is the OG Bobby Sams. not me. I should have befriended these cats. Pushed them with intellect...(Here's the part of the story where I get you.)...yet Proverbs 4:2 will tell you how bad I have been slippin.

So in the new year, no more OG Bobby Sams...I let him be Daddy. I am Ray Sams...That mellow coach who gets the message across with kindness and wisdom...afterall, that will carry you further than a shouting match.