Jacked UP!

I watch a lot of sports. ESPN fills my TV watching...

I see a lot of great plays and I've noticed a common trend among athletes. When they make a spectacular catch/dunk/hit/block/etc. they say either two things: A) "LET'S GO!" B) "**** Yeah. ******* ***** of ****."

I can't blame them. I remember when we lowered the rim to six and half feet at the homestead. I dunked on Esta Bon Gondolfo Kid with no regard for his life. I had some serious words for him. I think I even had my shirt off. Yes, as I recall, I did. If my memory serves me correct, I even stood over his crumpled body on that fateful day. The concrete was softer than the words that broke Steven's ears.

How else can we, as elite athletes, clearly convey to our teammates what they need to do, or how others are inferior? No real athlete, in good confidence say, "Fellas, I am bringing the heat man. I just need your guys help. Just match my intensity." Or "Ohhh my. Did you just notice how I embarrassed you? Thehehe."

The Greatest People of All Time

I am concerned.

People have forgotten their Roots; their history.

The world has forsaken what is right. As a society, we have parted ways with what is true...

However, there are some who have remained constant. They have held faithful to the values that made this country great. These few that have raised their heads in opposition and have done their best. I am talking about a common people. The redneck. Please, join them. Be apart of something greater than yourself.

Supress the Sleepness.

I recently woke up in the back of car and thought to myself, this isn't happening. I am in some kind of movie. Or a sick dream.

Fallon is about seven and half hours away from Cedar City, depending on who is driving. It is a journey, and when you are in a two door Honda Civic, which is about the size of a large suitcase, the drive is so much  more enjoyable. Every minute counts, because the spacious room of my civic only allows so much sanity. Then you have to consider the price of gas and believe it or not, the route you take makes a considerable difference in both happiness and cash flow. But, we drive.

On the way home of Easter weekend, I decided that Steven should drive. He has made the trip before, plus I thought he and his woman would rather sit shotgun than the backseat, which forces you to gnaw on your knee caps. Mowgli and I fell asleep before we were out of Cedar. I woke up about an hour and half later to the landscape of Caliente, Nevada. This is not our usual route. Gas is more expensive, speed limits are slower, and cops more prevalent. I am a little annoyed. A mistake, but thirty minutes added to the drive seemed like the doctor asking for half gallon of blood. After my irritation ebbs away, we drive. The drive goes on without incident.

We spend two days in the Silver state, until it is time for us to come home on Easter morn. That is when things got dicey.

We reach Ely Nevada, a wretched town, like so many others that litter the barren desert. Mowgli and I are tired once again. We figure Esta-Bon can drive. -- The fastest way to Cedar from Ely is to take route 93. Steven knows this. If he does not, then I do not know how he made it home for holidays. We drive.

I wake up about an hour and half outside of Ely (seems like that is my nap time limit), to a landscape I have seen only once in my life, but like my ancestors, the Algonquin Indians, I remember mother earth and her curves. I remember my home land and the way to and from. I never forget. I know that we are heading east (if you blind fold me, beat me over the head, and take me down into a basement, I promise I can tell you where east is). We are on the road that leads to Delta, Utah. Over a hundred miles past our turn off. I know this because our odometer says so. I think, this isn't happening. I am in some kind of movie. Or a sick dream..... We drive.

I ask Steven where we are at. He has no idea. Complete bliss. I ask him if he turned onto route 93. He says there was no turn off (there is, unless mother earth swallowed it). They never saw a sign (there is, I threw a full soda can at it once). There was too much rain they said (wiper blades). Missing the turn off didn't seem to really bother either of them. NBD.

At that very moment, my insides ignite. I am on fire. My brain is burning hot. My fists are clenched. I know that I am mad because the car is suddenly shrinking and it feels like my eyes are going to fall out of their sockets. I need to get out of the car before it catches fire.

We are past the point of no return, too far away to turn back. We must continue on to Delta and then to Cedar, adding two more hours to our expedition. No apology is given. Mowgli and I will drive.

I get into the front seat, and it is in that moment that I transform into a compete jackass. I play the card of passive aggressive. I felt that would be the most stinging. Finally, outside of Hinckley, it happens, the blow up. --He yells. --I relish in it. I keep my voice calm, at an aggravating even keel. Silence fills the car as the only female raises her cry, turning back the wolves who were about to feast on each others flesh. I swear under my breath that this drive will never end. We drive.

Nine and a half hours later we arrive in Cedar. The drive comes to a stop. I reminisce in the finals minutes, after I drop off Steven, but before I go back to my lonely apartment with Lynx. This will be a great memory, someday. I will laugh. We will drive again together.

J.S.B.

Call him the natural man, your Id, or even "night bandit", we all  have this alter ego that we have to battle every day and night. I call him Jason, Jason Some Booty. Jason and I go way back. He was born when I kissed Jessica D. in kindergarten. That's when I realized he could potentially take me over.

Late at night, he will come. He will tell you to scroll through that phone of yours, or get on Facebook, and look... He'll tell you to look for a girl you have been feeling, but haven't really pursued. He'll encourage you to be all flirty, to put yourself out there, with just enough ambiguity that you are safe, but she knows you mean business. If he is feeling really daring, he will have you give them a call after 10 (Even though 10 is early. For some reason girls think its late).

JSB will lie to you. He will tell you to try and play girls. See, he is only looking out for him, not you. You have to pay the consequences, not Jason. The selfish jerkbox has no guarantees. In fact, he is batting under .001, and still you listen to him. That is the problem with having two entities in the same body, one has to win and the other loses. You'll get shut down by her, I promise. They will call you a man-whore for trying, even though it was ALL Jason. You'll move on to the next girl. The vicious cycle continues.

I broke up with Jason awhile back. I wouldn't really know how he acts now. When you feel that urge to make a move after the sun goes down, resist. Unless you are on the E streak.

You know you are a headcase when....

you kick trash cans over, after you have already punched the wall several times, because you were pissed....

you think someone wants to marry you, when all they did was ask you on a date and cuddled with you....

you tweet about how you hate your life several times a day....

you break up with someone who you weren't even dating....

you can't remember what you ate for lunch the previous day....

you think that Ron Artest is normal....

you go to movies alone... and actually enjoy it....

you dip toast into orange juice and eat it... and like it....

you justify gambling with scholarship money...

B-League.

I have taken the liberty to assume what these individuals would have said if they were asked about my competitive nature. These comments may not reflect how they truly feel.

"David is extremely competitive. I remember in the church ball he was called for a foul. It was at the end of the game, which was close, and he was called for reaching... just some tic tac call. He got really upset. If memory serves me correctly he said some obsinties." - Brandon B. (Church basketball coach, mentor)

"One time we were playing 'Catch Phrase', and Dave said part of the phrase. I don't remember what it was, but he was called out on it. He got really upset. He didn't remember doing that. He spazed out. Left the room. I even think he slept outside that night." - Steven. (Younger Brother)

"When he was a sophomore he had a cast during most of the football season. To shed defenders, he would use his cast as a club. He used it to his advantage, that craziness to win." - Nate M. (High School QB)

"When he was little, we put him in a elementary basketball league. He always had his mouth wide open... just so intense.When he would box out kids, he would put all of his weight into them. He is one of the most competitive children we have" - Anne. (Mother)

Uhh.. I was a fierce competitor, but somehow, somewhere, I lost that fire. I have been trying to bring it back. I cheat during card and board games, but that hasn't translated to the playing field. I could care less. I listen to Lincoln Park, and still I don't get hyped. I'm back to B-League status-- the guys who play for fun. But games are not played for fun, we play them to win. I guess I gotta start drinking raw egg shakes in the morning, cause I don't recognize the face in the mirror.

Here is what I miss: Two thanksgivings ago, there was a huge flag football game. One of my teammates got an interception. I was running up the field, providing blocks for him. Mowgli was there. He was gaining on this dude from behind. I came in from Mowgli's right, he never saw me, and I put a ear-hole block on him. It wasn't hard, but it was a hit during flag football. I took out my best friend during a semi-competitive game, which was definitely a non-contact game.

Are you who you think you are?

Think about it. Are you sure that you truly understand who you are deep down? Is your perspective accurate? And if so, where did it come from? I am convinced that most people do not know who they are, because most people take what others say about them, and assimilate to their ideal. We become their puppets. We are but puppets to society, succumbing to the norms that have been set in place. Not that this is a bad thing. We must obey societies rules in order for peace, organization, and justice to ensue. Cut all of that out, who are we really? Are you really kind? Am I really polite? Do we even care? What is mankind's true nature?

I recently just had my birthday. Birthdays in my family have a special tradition. Everyone says one thing they like about the birthdayee. As my brothers and sisters told me what they admired about me, I began to think to myself, "Really? Is that me?" This got me thinking, how well do I really know myself. I have been socially constructed, through life's experiences, to become the individual I am today. I know that if tomorrow I woke up with no memory, I would be a completely different individual. But what would create this new person? Mostly outer sources. Sure we can choose what we want, but we are highly influenced by the external. We have been trained to act in a certain way in ever special circumstances we are thrust into.That is why parenting is so crucial.

I think we see what people are really like when they are put in a situation in which they have never thought about, prepared for, or have been trained to handle. Like a natural disaster, awkward moments, or intense quick situations. In those moments true human nature appears.
Let me give you an example. I was playing in a softball game the other night. It was coming down to the wire. It was obvious that we needed to make some big plays in order to win the game in the extra innings. We had two outs and needed a third to get out of the inning. I was playing catcher. They were nearing the end of their batting order. They had runners on second and first. The batter stepped up and hit a blooper to left field. The runner on second was waved on to home plate. Our out fielder made a tremendously accurate throw to home plate where I was at. I caught the ball and tagged the runner clearly before home plate. The ump called him safe. I reacted in the most embarrassing way. I thought the game was over. Time had expired, and I figured all hope was lost. I threw the ball down in disgust and cursed the ump over and over. A second runner saw my error and advanced to home as well. I went nuts. I couldn't believe what had taken place. Little did I know that we had a chance to match. We ended up winning, but it didn't even taste good. I felt like an idiot. But in those short moments, I saw who I was underneath the euro hawk and v-neck shirt.

So who are you? What really defines a person?