I love this game.

I love basketball. Have since before I can remember. I wasn't born with hoards of athletic ability, but a passion for the game I'll put up against anyone's.

As a kid, I'd shovel a foot of snow off the court to shoot in below-zero temps.

As a teenager, I skipped breakfast to shoot before school. I hid in the locker room after practice until everyone left, and snuck back into the gym for another couple hours of shooting--in the dark. I skipped class--a lot--to sneak away to the gym.

I even loved practice. I begged for two-a-days in High School. I loved four-hour practices in college.

When other kids were at parties or out on dates--I was on the court.

It's a beautiful game.

Whether it's a peach basket and a broom in a tiny, quiet gymnasium or two nylon nets 94 feet apart in a raucous arena--a there's a certain peace and tranquility that comes with being between those lines.

First ever basketball court--Springfield College, 1891

U.S. Airways Center; home of NBA's Phoenix Suns, built in 1992 (101 years later).


I'm ready to be a Head Coach. I'm a student of the game, and learning more by the day. Most importantly, I know enough to know that I'll never know it all. Many coaches feel they have nothing left to learn--and that's when they get beat.

Players will enjoy playing for me. Not only do I carry a passion for the game, but I make it simple and fun. Too many coaches complicate things by over-coaching.

It's an easy game. Intricate schemes, techniques and designs are essential, but at the end of the day, my offensive philosophy is simple--and something past players have heard me say often:

"Just go score." -- Too simple? Hogwash. Whether it's a fade-away J from the elbow, a tip-in put-back in traffic, or a tomahawk dunk on the break, a basket is a basket [see also: peach basket vs. nylon net].

So just go score. Get the ball in the hoop, go lock up on D...then do it again.

I digress...

Basketball feeds my soul. I go to it when I need to exercise, when I need to vent. I go to it when I need to think, need to cry, need to breathe.

I go to it in times of joy and times of sorrow--
I loved it yesterday; I'll love it tomorrow.

It's always been there for me, and I love it.
Always have, always will.

Just go score,
Derrick

What's my age again?

I was already plotting a post about age this past week--and officiating little kids' basketball games this weekend strengthened the desire to put something down.

"Grow up."
"Act your age." --just a couple things people often say (not to me; OK, sometimes to me). But why?

Don't mistake me, I get it. I understand the importance of learning from things as we get older, and putting that knowledge to use as the years go by. Whatever. But...it leads me to a few questions:

Why is maturity essentially synonymous losing one's sense of humor?
Why is maintaining a sense of humor synonymous with immaturity?

Why can't adults just relax and live life?

Tell jokes, laugh at yourself, have fun...enjoy life to the fullest. Corny cliche, but a necessary reminder, I think.

I've never understood why most people seem to hit a wall in life where they immediately become boorish and lacking in the heartfelt compassion that we possess by the truckload as children.

And don't feed me the load of bull about more responsibilities, bills, etc. That's hooey. If you think you're mature enough to live in responsible situations, be mature enough to roll with the punches and deal with whatever life throws at you.

While reffing several kids' basketball games this weekend, it hit me--adults suck. Half those kids were there because they love to play the game; half because they get to be around their friends. And while various parents lived and died with every call, their child would simply run the other way and shrug it off.

Only adults carry grudges--children are far too wise.

Opinion: Just because you know more stuff, it doesn't make you smarter.

"You're only as old as you feel," they say. Well...stop feeling so old, dummy. Do whatever it takes to feel young. Be a kid--even if just at heart.



Ironic thought: I've never heard a senior citizen complain about being old. Not once. All the 'I'm getting old' rants I hear are generally from people under 30 who don't know what being old even means.

"Respect your elders." - well that's just a given. Do it. Sir, ma'am, please, thanks, and so on. But you know what? Blaming a lack of respect on today's youth is pretty ignorant--and lazy, if you ask me. Do a better job of instilling respect as a parent, and you won't have to complain about it down the road. Simple as that.

Disclaimer: I am almost 25. I feel sore a lot after playing basketball--but I love it. I relish that sore feeling. Makes me feel like I've done something, accomplished something. And besides, better than not feeling anything at all, right?

Few more fun quotes about age...

"Every man over 40 is a scoundrel." - George Bernard Shaw

"None are so old as those who have outlived enthusiasm." - Henry David Thoreau

"A diplomat is a man who always remembers a woman's birthday but never remembers her age." - Robert Frost

Finally, I'll leave you with a clip of a commercial I've always loved, featuring perhaps the best soccer player in the world, Ronaldinho. I think it's brilliant.



Act whatever age sounds like fun,
Derrick

Will you be my Valentine? No, not you...yeah, you.

My friends at Wikipedia tell me that Valentine's Day was established in 496 AD. --that's 1,514 years ago for you math wizards out there. Long time. So far, I'm 2 for 1,513 as far as having someone to share it with goes. And still, unlike most perpetually single folks out there, I really like Valentine's Day. The overall mood and ambiance it evokes are just really cool to me.

True, one shouldn't need a particular day to show their love. But who's it really hurting? I've never understood why more people don't embrace the fun of the occasion.

"Single Awareness?" Not even a little bit...

Ghost of Valentine's Past...
- 1999: First time I ever gave a flower to a girl. As an 8th grader, I bought one long-stemmed red rose (with my own money) and placed it in the locker of a skinny redhead. *Shivers at the thought* Live and learn.
- 2003: As a Senior in High School, I bought my first ever girlfriend [Cassandra] a dozen red roses, a stuffed animal, and who knows what else? I got a tin full of almond candies. Yuck. Oh well, live and learn...
- 2007: Girlfriend #2 [Janon]. I seem to recall the gift-giving on both ends was more sufficient this time around, but the relationship itself? You guessed it, live and learn...
- 2009: Girlfriend #3 [Stephanie] broke up with me the day before...needless to say, she never got her gifts. Some wound up in the grateful hands of others, some I kept for myself...some were burned in the bottom of a barrel. I may still be young-ish, but you'd think I'd have learned my lessons in love by now, right?

Ghost of Valentine's Present...
- 2010: No legitimate Valentine's prospects to speak of.

I did go see Dear John (still pretty angry about the movie itself) in the theater with my friend Katie this past weekend. I suppose that could be construed as a friend date of sorts, but...that's about the extent of it.

Hold-ups:
Girls I like usually have either an unfortunate-looking, unworthy boyfriend (one in particular comes to mind), making the girl entirely unapproachable...or simply have no interest in me whatsoever.

Girls who like me usually have: lots of baggage and/or an affinity for drama. No, thanks.

Ghosts of Valentine's Future...
- Who knows? All I know is that this is a fun holiday. Part of me can't wait to share it with someone...but part of me will wait patiently, because when it's meant to be, my time will come. *eats fortune cookie, throws away wrapper*

Final notes:

Married, engaged or just generically-attached friends: Enjoy yourselves this Valentine's Day. Find a babysitter, go out to dinner and a movie, or do something romantic. Might as well. :)

Single friends who disagree with me, and hate Valentine's Day: Shut up. Open up your heart and stop being such a bitter, jealous fun-hater.

Single friends who are also OK with Valentine's Day: High 5!

Single friends who also happen to be foxy ladies: Well hello there. Here's a video clip just for you...



Do the right thing,
Derrick

Just some white dude writing about Black History...

I once took an African American Literature course at Wichita State University. First day, teacher opens by saying: "In case you haven't noticed, I'm white."

Then, I laughed. But now, I make the same proclamation as I write a blog about Black History Month. I'm white.

Not only am I white, but I come from a tiny Kansas town of approximately 600 people, all white. Disclaimer aside, here are a few thoughts on race relations:

- Ignorance: I've actually heard various white people complain about Black History Month. "Why should they get their own month? Why isn't there a White History month?," they'll say. My reply; two words: Shut up.

- We have a black President. Well, sort of. He's actually as much white as he is black-- something I feel people forget about completely. But still...I'm proud to say I voted for him. Despite your political views, or my own personal doubts about whether or not I'd vote for him again, I'll never regret voting for him the first time. Change was needed, period--not just politically, but socially. [opinion]

- Some of the most fun basketball I've ever played in my life was at the YMCA in Pittsburg, KS every Sunday afternoon in the Fall of '03. It was usually me, and 35+ black guys. I saw one other white dude there--once. That was it. The way we played: If you didn't get picked, you didn't play. Ever. Several guys wound up just watching for 4 hours every week. Luckily, a guy saw me hit several shots warming up and said: "I'll take the white kid." Everyone laughed, but I played well my first game and got picked every week from then on. Fun, fun times--and some darn good basketball.

- My best black friends: Justin Rogers, Ashley Hurd, Larry Ellis.

- Most interesting racial conversations: My old roommate, Donta Cherry. Ah, brings back memories. Love that guy!

- Most annoying racial remarks: When people from my hometown see me wearing a pair of baggy shorts or a hat backwards, various folks often say: "Why are you dressing black?" or "Do you think you're black?" This is beyond stupid. Why can't it be a cultural thing vs. racial? Why can't it be a style I enjoy and find comfortable from time-to-time? Would you ever go up to a black person wearing blue jeans and ask them: "Why are you dressing white?" I very much doubt it.

- Saddest story of racism: Off the top of my head...Bobby Hutton. [click his name for link to brief Wikipedia explanation] Heard his name in one of my favorite songs of all-time, Ghetto Gospel--a collaboration by Tupac Shakur/Elton John. Did some research on him, and the story is sickening.

* Lighter note * I tried thinking of a couple light-hearted racial clips that wouldn't be offensive to anyone. I came up with a movie scene and a racial joke that shouldn't be offensive to any race, and are just funny in general. :)

- Funny movie clip:
Jerry Maguire: "I love black people! Show me the money!"
Rod Tidwell: "Congratulations, you're still my agent." HA. Freaking classic.



Joke time: The Greatest, Muhammad Ali. Enjoy.
[embedding has been disabled on this clip, so you'll have to click the link to see it]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5kJdd6T5-xA

Do the right thing,
Derrick

More blog changes, additions.

Though I said I'd try and refrain from blogging until I finished my current book, I've fallen off pace a bit--so I'm back.

This will be more of a transitional blog than anything, as I don't really have anything substantial to discuss this time.

As I'm sure you noticed, I finally got some music up and running on my page, along with a new poll question.

Results from previous poll:

How often do you read my blogs?
I read occasionally--7 votes (58%)
I read every single one--3 votes (25%)
I read frequently--2 votes (16%)
This is my first time--0 votes (0%)
Stop writing, it all sucks--0 votes (0%)

Would've liked a better outcome--especially in vote totals, but also in regards to a more favorable result. But oh well. Hoping to get more votes with the next question.

Here goes nothing. It's a simple question (top right) regarding what kind of interaction you may have with me. If you aren't pleased with whatever your answer is, feel free to fix it. :)

Randomness...

My sports week:

- Pretty Prairie Bulldog boys basketball team lost to an inferior Peabody team last week. It happens, only one game--the team will be fine, I'm sure. Still, I continue to hold my tongue on certain opinions--but, uh, yeah...

- Cubs signed outfielder Xavier Nady today. Eh.

- Bulls rumored to possibly be trading Kirk Hinrich to Lakers. I might just have to cry if this happens. I played against Hinrich back in 2003 in the KU Barnstormers game in Hutchinson, KS. 17 points, 5 threes. His hand hit my nose on one shot. Slapped me on the butt and said "good shot" on the way by. Highlight of my basketball career. Well, not the butt slap part--the game itself.

Anyways, let me know what you think of the tunes. I can make it so that it doesn't auto-start when you arrive. Something tells me more people would prefer that, but I'll leave it as is in the meantime...

I'll probably have a Valentine's blog coming out soon--or maybe a Black History Month blog? Or maybe someone else has an idea?

Either way, until next time...

Do the right thing,
Derrick

Here's a quarter; can I get 3 more?

It hit me the other day. I'm almost 25 years old. A quarter of a century. Here are some thoughts I have about this:

I always wanted to be married by 25. As I have just 56 days to accomplish this, let's go ahead and chalk that up to being an unsuccessful dream. Clearly, it's time to change the goal. 27? 28? Yikes, I could be in trouble.

"Derrick, you have plenty of time..." Blah blah, hibbety jibbety.

A moment occurred last night at the High School basketball game in Pretty Prairie that made me want a daughter. I seem to have these moments more and more lately. Something about a little girl sharing a laugh with her dad--who is just two years older than I--causes me to be overcome with a mixture of hope and jealousy.

Here's a sad, yet powerful song that I've always loved. Enjoy.



I didn't set as many New Year's resolutions as I probably should have--I usually go through a stage every few months where I attempt to better myself by doing certain things. So I'll work on it for my birthday. While I was unprepared to do it at New Year's, one thing I plan to do is cut out all pop-drinking on my birthday. Ahem, March 6. I do love pop, so it is tough, but one thing I'm very proud of about myself is my willpower. So I have no doubts about my ability to do it. I will not drink pop for a year, at least.
My record: 1 year, 2 months, 3 weeks, 3 days. (Dec 10, 2007-Mar 6, 2009).

I think it would be awesome to live to 100. I hope I'm only a fourth of the way through. I am already thoroughly convinced that I will not die of an illness of any kind. I'm never sick even a little bit--most of you hate me because of this. So unless the Big Guy decides to throw some irony my way (entirely plausible), I'm relatively certain my demise will come from old age, or an accident of some sort. Just a theory I have.

Other monotony:

- I had an entire blog written last night about the recent epidemic in collegiate football, with coaches losing jobs due to alleged misconduct toward players. Erased because I know few if any of my normal readers would have even cared. Short version: Big whoop. If you can't handle it, don't play. Sissies.

- Still haven't figured out how to put background music on my blog (as opposed to inserting video clips, etc). I'm hoping to figure that out soon, so y'all will have some regular background tunes to accompany your reading. If anyone knows how, or has some song suggestions, send them my way. Or if you'd prefer not having any...?

- I may not blog again until I finish my current book. Unless of course I come up with something more meaningful to say than what I've written lately. I've lagged behind a bit lately and am still only on page 93. Hopefully in the next week or so, I can knock out a much more substantial chunk of the book.

- NFL playoffs start today. My team went 7-9 and didn't make the playoffs, but it's still exciting stuff. If nothing else, something to get me closer to baseball season.

Do the right thing,
Derrick

[insert holiday fire joke here]

This blog will be short and sweet. Not sweet like in a tasty way--like candy, though. Mmm, candy...wait, where was I? Oh yes...

In the spirit of the New Year, new beginnings, habits and whatnot, I've begun reading again before bed each night. Hopefully I can keep this trend up. The current book of choice was actually a Christmas gift from mom in 2008. Only on page 60, but very gripping book so far...


For those of you who don't know, here's a short summary:

Pat Tillman was a star football player for the NFL's Arizona Cardinals. After 9-11, he decided to give up millions upon millions of dollars playing professional football, and join the Army Rangers. He was killed in Afghanistan on April 22, 2004. The circumstances leading up to--and following--his death are perhaps more intriguing than his story itself.

Other bits of randomocity:

- Happy New Year to you, too, Mr. Fireman: Hung with my friend Teri at her place in Wichita. Big fire in her complex forced everyone to evacuate, and sit around waiting for about 8 hours on firefighters to do their jobs. Quite the ordeal for those involved. I'd personally been there before (see: Christmas Eve house fire--2002), and actually felt a bit guilty not having much at stake this time around. But alas, New Year's 2010 was memorable, if nothing else.

The moral: You should probably never invite me to hang out with you on a holiday--your place of residence will more than likely catch on fire.

- Someone just gave me the Byrd: On December 31, my Cubbies finally got themselves a center fielder--Marlon Byrd. Welcome to Cub nation, Marlon.

- Just call me Mr. Productive: I did not spend way too much time today editing my blogger layout, only to end on one that I'm still not sure I like enough to keep. OK, yeah I did. *Sigh*

- ...or Mr. Sneaky: Let's see if you notice a difference, a subtle nuance, if you will--in this blog. I'm probably not as sneaky as I think. Still, indulge me, won't you?

- I kind of want to say something about _____, but I can't (or won't): _____...see? Told you.

Anyways, I'll try to write something more substantial soon. Until then...

Do the write thing,
Derrick