Twenty-four 8th grade girl's basketball player's eyeballs. Probably twenty-four minutes into a 'pick-and-roll' drill. I study them eyeballs wishing they could talk, and, they kinda sorta do. We'd progressed from walking (with verbal instruction), to jogging, minimal coaching input, to full out running... "Nice pick!" to.. "OH YEAH BABY" ('cept, didn't say BABY, I could get fired for that, and I understand that.)
Anyways, their feet, dribbling, pivots, picks, passes, no thinking, just doing, were in effect telling me "The rain in Spain stays mainly in the Plain", BY GEORGE SHE'S GOT IT, I THINK THEY'VE GOT IT!" I was all kindsa back-patting myself, imagining Coach of The Year nominations....
Then...
Then, Tammy raised her hand. "Yes Tammy?"... "Coach, are we talking about offense or defense?"
Such, is life, understanding.
You need a new pair of pups so you walk in Foot Locker. (You might anyways, I'd prolly hit up a Thrift Store for a $3 almost new pair.) Size 11, wide. Ya see aisles and aisles, maybe 65% women's, 35% men's. Why is that, Imelda?
Today's blog idea is about 'Understanding.' Holy mackerel, we might as well start male/female.. Remember that post that showed a book with a kajillion pages entitled "How to understand women"? For every 'tort' there is an equal and opposite retort and they/she would probably say "It's very easy to understand the male."
I understand that too.
Back to Foot Locker. After seven total minutes, six aisles, getting a neck crick looking high and low, I've eyeballed size 11, wide.
WHAT? Not everyone's like me? There's six aisles (shoes on each side), nine up and down shelves on each side. That's one helluva lot to even attempt to "see the view from my shoes."
Of course I am perfect. Relax, I jest. I was being fahsee... fasee.. faceet..faceat..faceti.. kidding. But too.. somewhere along the way (Yogi Berra said "When you come to the fork in the road, take it") somewhere along the way we run into someone extolling "I am right, always. There is only my school of thought, size 11, wide." Yes, I'm old, but at least 8 tracks had eight, not just one.
Sadly, I ain't kidding. Why God gave ears to 'em (I am always right, don't even try, I won't listen) I'll never know.
Thank goodness for the goodness of teachers, parents, siblings, aunt, uncles, friends, bosses, coworkers, shoe salesmen (You're welcome Al) who say things like "yeah but what about.....", or "What if this...happened", or, "Playing devil's advocate for a moment....." AND, LISTENERS, who may or may not agree, but at least, LISTEN.
God bless the USA (for many)...as well as Bless the USA (for many.)
I can just hear Harry Reasoner say, "let's always stay open to reason."
There's a whole lot in life I don't understand. High heels, Crocs, Cowboy boots, Platform, Roller, Cleats, Pointed toe, Peep-toes, Lotus?, Wooden, Flamenco, Cantabrian Albarcas, huh?
If we are right 100% of the time, sure, it would be the thrill of victory.. but it takes two to tango, Fred and Ginger, George and Gracie, Al an Peg, Siegfried and Roy, Barney and Fred..Barney and Andy, 'Ain't' Bea and Ope... Spongebob and Patrick, .rich man, poor man.. all religions, or not... Donkeys and Elephants, Elephants and Donkeys.. Yin, yang. Otherwise, there'd only be agony of defeet.
As always, please know I have no intention of preaching.
I am human, hear me snore, get mad, blurt, hurt, have been thru rage on the road, tears of sorrow, wrong about things, lost, found, much.
We will never understand it all. We WILL error, others will too.
I just wish we, the size 11 wide wearing dead guy's shoes, and the brand spankin new pair'a Cantabrian Albarcas, would, could get along - whether we agree, agree to disagree, understand one another, or not.
Love, Victurd
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