Basketball

Ouch. I'm currently on an intramural basketball team. It reminds me of my old church team. Maybe that is because it is my friends ward team. We are clearly awful. Our second half average is 7 points. I wish I could just blame my team. Unfortunately I can't dribble. When I dribble its like I'm handing the other team the ball. At best my shooting is streaky, when its at its worst it is nonexistent. The upside of my game is defense. Because of experience in other sports (mainly lacrosse) I can play pretty good defense. In my last game I even blocked a guy 4 or 5 inches taller. It wasn't just any block. I trapped the ball on the backboard. It even surprised me that I accomplished that block without fouling. The thing is as awful as I am, I'm easily one of the more consistent, reliable players on the team. Ouch.

Awkward Forgetfullness

Today I ran into a friend and her roommate. I said hello. Unfortunately I used my friends name. Luckily I got her name right. The unfortunate part was I forgot her roommates name. I didn't say hello to her roommate. The roommate asked me why I didn't say hello to her. I lied. It was a pretty pathetic excuse, but it seemed to satisfy the roommate. I should have known her name, she is a nice girl. I had known it just a few minutes before. Eventually I remembered. Only after I asked my friend in a whisper what her roommates name was. The biggest problem is that I can't remember the name of either one now.

I'll Have Legs Tomorrow

The couch was soft and mushy, a perfect hiding spot from the world. I loved to become encompassed by its musky warmth. That’s where I was when Jenny discovered my presence.
“Zac could you go get the mail,” she asked.
“Ummmm, Jenny I don’t want to,” I responded.
With a glare she repeated herself, “Zac go get the mail”.
There was an electric current in the air, the type you can feel before lightning strikes. Oh how I wish I didn’t have legs, then I wouldn’t be able to go get the mail.
Realizing that I was ignoring her, she raised her voice, “ZAC go get the mail?”
Hiding my smirk I deviously replied, “I can’t, I don’t have any legs”. The tension snapped. Jenny grabbed the keys to the mailbox and stormed out leaving an imprint of her silhouette plastered to my mind.
I should have been worried about Jenny. Instead all I could think about was my perfect response, “I can’t, I don’t have any legs”. What if I really didn’t have legs? With a crash I was rudely dragged from my thoughts. A wild beast stood in the doorway. The fire in her eyes was so powerful I could feel my hair singeing from across the room.
Vehemently she spat, “Thanks a lot Zac”.
“Jenny?” I squeaked.
“What do you want now?” she roared.
Relief flowed through me like a cool stream. I wasn’t dead yet. Feeling slightly braver I continued, “Jenny where is my wheel chair?”
“Zac you don’t have a wheel chair”, she sneered.
Dang it, why was she doing this to me? First the mail and now my wheel chair, why does she expect me to do everything? I don’t even have legs! With a thud, I rolled off the couch. As I started to drag myself across the floor I made the mistake of looking at the carpet. Once this carpet was white, now its not. Crumbs, dirt, and the unknown were scattered about. Looking behind me I noticed the streak my lifeless legs left in the dirt. They reminded me of worms on a rainy day.
Digging a trough through the grime, I slithered past the kitchen and into the hallway. By this time both my elbows were screeching their defiance. Pausing for a moment I peered at my damaged flesh. The skin on my arm was getting rubbed raw. Stifling a moan and wiping away a tear, I hid my pain from my sister. The last thing I wanted was to give her the pleasure of seeing my pain. Embracing my deteriorating flesh I continued toward the end of the hallway. If I could just make it on my own I would find some semblance of dignity.
With a lurch I shoved open the bathroom door to face-plant next to the toilet. For a second I lay there, breathing in the musky smell of urine. After a while I pried my face from the ground and squirmed my way inside. Trying not to think about my shattered dignity, I heaved myself onto the edge of the bathtub. Meticulously I began to undress. Just as I managed to escape the confines of clothing, I slipped. Backwards I fell, smashing my head on the porcelain tub. As the light dimmed, a blanket of darkness encircled my decrepit body.
When I woke up I realized I was lying exposed in the cold, unforgiving porcelain tub. The faucet was slowly leaking one drop at a time, creating unwanted chaos in my throbbing head. Reaching forward I turned on the faucet. A rush of ice water surged forth. The shock stole the breath from my body. With each drop of water, my body became exceedingly numb.
Embracing that numbness I pondered my lifeless legs. Why did I have to live life as a cripple? My heart and soul yearned for the chance to run along a windswept beach. I was sick of this arduous life. “Ouch” Just when I thought my life couldn’t get any worse something else began to cause me pain. Where was this spiteful ache coming from? It wasn’t my elbows or my head. From a hidden alcove of my mind, the answer spewed forth. It was my toe! I was feeling my toe. If I could feel my toe, could I feel my legs?
Exploring this epiphany I grabbed hold of the shower curtain. Using it like a rope in gym class, I started to heave my body upwards. When I finally climbed high enough I focused on my insensitive legs trying to motivate them to support my weight. Slowly my legs materialized beneath my body. Trying not to think about gravity, I let go of the curtain.
My body betrayed me with feeling. I fell back into oblivion. Overwhelmed by despair my hope cracked. WHY? All I wanted was to stand, even if it was just for a moment. Why, couldn’t I experience life like everybody else? Channeling my anger I surged up the curtain one more time. Dangling like a broken wind chime, my fears flourished. My legs are dead! This is insane; I don’t want to fall down again. I hung there looking at the abyss below knowing I was about to fall. “Crack” the bar holding the curtain snapped in two. As I fell the curtain reminded me of a majestic waterfall cascading from its captivity. If only I could leave my prison too.
“BANG, BANG, BANG”, the door sang. Can doors sing? As a spatter of cold water cleared away the fog, I realized Jenny was pounding on the door. Sounding slightly worried she asked, “Zac! Are you okay?”
“What?” I asked, feeling like a butterfly in a tornado.
Letting out a sigh, either in frustration or relief she continued, “Are you okay? I heard something crash”.
She really did sound worried. For a minute I considered how to answer. Trying to be as optimistic as possible I replied, “Oh it was just me, nothing to worry about”.
Not satiated by my explanation, she bellowed like a mad elephant, “WHAT HAPPENED?”
“Jenny?” I sputtered.
“What?” she retorted, sounding slightly less irritated?
“I think I can do it!” I exclaimed, sounding like an overenthusiastic baby bird.
Hesitating for a second she asked, “Do what?”
Barely managing to hold my excitement at bay I replied, “I think I can stand!!!”
“Zac, you have always been able to stand. You can even walk” she scoffed.

CRACK

The blue track shimmered in the scorching heat. There were nine lanes, and nine competitors. Only eight of them would score points for their teams. None of them could make any mistakes. This had to be the best race of their young careers.
Sweat trickled off of my eyebrow and into my eye, leaving a salty sting in its wake. “On your marks” shouted the official. With a slight readjustment of my sweat soaked jersey, I mounted my blocks. Shoving everything else from my mind I focused on the hurdle in front of me.
Many of these athletes had expected to find themselves in this position. Through the whole season they had been preparing for this race, every one of them knew they would be here. They were all mentally prepared, as well as physically. Except for me. Nobody expected me to be in the state finals. Heck, I still couldn’t believe it.
At region I wasn’t expected to be a competitor. During the race one of the leaders tripped on a hurdle. Three of us passed him; only one of us went on to state. I beat both of them on the lean. Less than a second divided the three of us.
Two weeks later found me in the qualifying rounds at state. I didn’t even deserve to race on such a magnificent track. All I could hope for was a decent race, a race that wouldn’t completely embarrass me.
Yet again I lucked out. Or did I? With the speed and agility only the elite had, I found myself flying around the track. It was a miracle; not only did I run one of the best races in my hurdling career, but I made it into the state finals.
The next day my name was in the paper. All my life I have wanted recognition for my athletic prowess, finally I received it. After all my hard work, I was someone that could accomplish the ultimate goal. It was my first year running the 300 hurdles, and I was going to win state.
Usually I looked down on superstition. But somewhere along the line that had all changed. From eating the same breakfast to tying my shoes, everything was going to be the same as the day before. In the qualifying rounds I had one of the best races of my life. This race couldn’t get botched, it meant way too much. Everything had to be exactly the same.
“GET SET” came the call. With a loud bang, I surged from my blocks, careening down the scorching blue track. First one hurdle and then the next, I was really doing it, I was going to win.
“CRACK” my knee slammed into the third hurdle. Mentally refocusing, I forced the agonizing pain from my mind. Pushing my legs harder and faster than ever before, I surged to make up lost ground. They were not going to get away.
“CRACK” I crashed into the next hurdle. My timing was off! During those terrifying seconds of reality, I looked up and saw my coach yelling at me. “Come on Zac you can do it. Attack the hurdles.” Flinging myself at the next hurdle only worsened my plight. Another ear splitting crack filled the air. As the hurdle fell, so did my dreams.
Faster than I anticipated the other competitors pulled away leaving me in their dust. Already I could see their mocking smiles. Serves me right for pretending to be as good as they were. Someone else was going to win.
Finally I cleared a hurdle, breaking the heart-wrenching streak. Determined not to give up, I called on the core of my being. It was too late though, if only I hadn’t hit so many hurdles! With each passing second my amazing come-from-behind win slid through my fingers.
Stumbling through the finish line everything became a blur. The hours of practice the pain the frustration, all forsaken on a couple of hurdles. It didn’t matter that even having hit three hurdles I got the same exact time as the day before. None of it mattered. My team wouldn’t be getting any points from my efforts. The only medal I’d be taking home were the bruises on my legs.
The papers had overestimated my abilities; I had overestimated my abilities. Slowly my race faded from the minds of the onlookers. Along with the race fading, I faded. Nobody cared who I was anymore. I had come in last.

Kindling

There sat a tree.
Contemplating life.
Its branches weeping despondently
The bark peeled away leaving it small and gray

CAWWWWWWWWW! CAWWWWWWWW!
Screamed a crow

Rules of the Game

Here’s the thing,
Threats and dares are not rare.
The faint of heart should beware

Don’t scorn Jolene’s cuisine
She’ll stab you with a knife.

If Miles talks
Do not listen
He is the worst when it comes to a lesson

You can cheat, just not with your feet.
If you get caught, put back the pot.
You can lie and steal manipulate and deal

If your name is Kenny,
Your cunning and will are like a fish
Slippery and slimy,
In the end dead upstream

Adam is a bum,
He just twiddles his thumbs

Look out! Here comes Reagan
When he loses he uses excuses
So spite him while you can
It works well with my plan

Under a cover he waits
Letting your imagination create
His name is William the wantabe conqueror
For he is constantly beat

Friends and foes alike beware,
I play the game with no restraint
I’ll bare my muscles and clear my mind
Foul play I’ll conquer
I’ll beat you all because my name is Zac

But you can call me Captain!