My last nerve

I'm sure some folks are looking at me sideways, right now. I really don't care.
Well, I suppose I do care ... a little. If not, why write about it?
Rather than say I don't care, I'll say, 'let me explain.'
There's a reason why I've covered very little high school girls basketball in Union County this season. It's very simple. I'm too old for this ... stuff.
I can't take it. Can't stomach it.
Kids don't know how to play. It's that simple. I get angry when I watch them. My blood pressure rises when I watch them. My eyes water when I watch them. There's a little vein in my forehead that I never before knew existed. I discovered it while watching a girls basketball game this season. I believe the scientific term for this vein is called, "my last nerve."
Girls don't want to play basketball because they don't care enough to learn how to play basketball. That's fine. They have lots of choices and just because basketball isn't their choice, there are plenty of other great ones for them. But, if they don't care enough about basketball to even try to learn how to play, then why should I care enough to work "my last nerve" watching them?
The basketball in Union County is, by far, worse than I ever thought it would be. El Dorado, Parkers Chapel and Norphlet have solid teams with girls who have devoted their own time toward the sport. I could watch these three teams play each other in any combination seven nights a week without ever getting bored.
I can't watch one of these teams play a group of girls that doesn't take basketball very seriously. Even worse, I can't watch two groups of girls who could care less "competing" on the basketball court in a game of "can you top this?" on the stupid meter.
But Tony, you say, they're just kids.
You're right. Not everyone has to be a great player or even a good player. But, there was a time when you had to give a damn before someone gave you a uniform and put you on a team. I've seen a few young people who, obviously, don't give a hoot. I've seen senior high girls who didn't know where to line up on the free throw line. How the hell am I supposed to write an article for the newspaper about a game when the kids don't even know what to do on a freaking free throw?
Do you know how little that kid cared about basketball when they hadn't followed the sport enough to know the basic rules for a free throw?
She don't care. Why should anyone else?
I've tried to watch the games. I really have. But, I can't find a lot of positives to write about. I'm trying so hard not to embarrass a kid in the paper. So, I stay away.
If you can't say something good, don't say anything. I'll wait until I see something good before I write anything. I feel bad. Feel a little guilty. But, it's the only way I can keep my sanity and avoid hurting some child's feelings.
I'm sorry. And, I do care. But, this piss poor level of play is working my last nerve.

Good golly, Miss Molly

An interesting thing happened on my visit to the doctor last week. I went in for my annual checkup and told the doctor about a pain in my foot. He chastised me for telling him at the last minute then sent me to get it x-rayed.
Low and behold, who did I find waiting for me in the x-ray room? Molly Belin.
Actually, I guess it's Molly Taylor, now. But, she'll always been Molly Belin, Union's all-time 3-point bomber, to me.
Anyway, we exchanged pleasantries. Then she told me to strip naked. I said, "Good Golly, Miss Molly, it's my foot!"
I'm joking.
But, she put my foot on the table with me sitting up. She instructed me to sit my foot flat while tilting my knee in some awkward direction. She proceeded to take three x-rays all from angles that were physically painful.
The fact that she thought my pain was funny leaves me suspicious.
Anyway, the x-ray revealed a spur in my heel. She explained what could be done, showed me exactly what it looked like and all that.
All in all, I was impressed with Miss Molly. I think I pulled a muscle and I'm walking with a new limp, but she seemed to know what she was doing. Maybe that's how it works, I went in complaining about a pain in my heel and walked out with a pain in my knee.
I'm joking. Well, not really.
But, it's nice to see people I watched grow up advance into hard-working professionals. It makes me feel old and happy. To think, they closed Union down because the kids weren't getting a quality education.
It worked just fine for Molly.

Goodbye Shea Wilson

We found out recently that long-time News-Times managing editor Shea Wilson had resigned. She will be leaving for a new job in a couple of weeks.
Shea and I began at the News-Times back in about 1990. She arrived about a month after I did. I believe I arrived about three or four months after Roderick Harrington.
I look back at that summer as the day the News-Times was born. Some readers may think it the day the news died. We certainly didn't please everyone as changes have been made to the paper in the last twenty years. We did our best, though.
Anyway, Shea has been my boss for the last probably ten or twelve years, I guess. I'm not sure because it's been more like a co-worker relationship.
I enjoyed Shea's time in power for a couple of reasons.
One, she was easy to work with. She never flinched when she had to shell out for a week's stay in a hotel or when we had two-hundred dollar gas bills for traveling.
Two, she was easy to work with. The schedule of a sports writer who covers high schools is not 9-to-5. It's more like 7-to-2. Some editors want to see us in the office at three o'clock, which is unfortunate because there's nothing to do at three o'clock except sit in the office. Shea never had a problem with us managing our own schedule around our sports events. I started doing most of my work at home as far as features and stuff. I could go weeks at a time without seeing her and it wasn't a problem as long as the sports section was produced in the News-Times.
Three, she was easy to work with. When my father died, she immediately told me to go and take care of my business. She said to take as long as I needed. She's done this for everyone in the office at some point. It sounds like a no-brainer of an idea but not every boss follows this rule.
Four, she fed us at Christmas. Shea would invite the office to her house for the holidays. It was always an impressive spread. Once, when I couldn't get away she sent some rum-smothered fudge back to the office. How many bosses will do that?
In twenty years together, Shea and I developed a bit of a friendship. I always enjoyed stopping in her office and chit-chatting for about five minutes every once in awhile. We could talk about some angry reader who voiced their displeasure or her love of freaking bulldogs. Whatever. It was a luxury most people don't have with their bosses. That's because it's almost impossible to be a boss and a friend at the same time.
Shea managed to balance the two - at least with me. For that, I would like to say Congratulations Mrs. Wilson and I'm going to miss you. As a boss, but even more as a friend.

Norphlet grows from loss

It's too bad the final score was 65-40.
Norphlet actually had a slightly better showing than that last week in its loss to El Dorado in the Camden Fairview Holiday Classic.
The Lady Leopards led at halftime by five before the Lady Wildcats dominated the second half.
Although it was a loss, I'm thinking this will help Norphlet later on in the season. I'm a big believer in teams learning more from losses than from victories. There's a certain kind of toughness that's built when you have to try and figure out a way to beat a superior opponent. Even in defeat, I think it can toughen the shell a little bit, especially when you have a modicum of success.
The Lady Leopards will be in that position again. At some point, they will have to dig deep and figure out a way to win a game. It may not be a superior opponent next time. It may be just one of those games where they don't get a break, where the other team can't miss and the refs can't get a call right.
Whatever the reason and whenever it happens, Norphlet can look back at its loss to El Dorado. The Lady Leopards have had the odds stacked against them before.
Whenever the chips are down again, don't bet against Norphlet.