Watch it in... (basketball, baseball, billiards, merging onto a highway, or tossing bicycle cards into hats)

When I was fifteen I took driver's ed at Drive-Right in the Crossroads mall. One of the teachers' was, as I recall, a big outspoken gentleman named Zandavar (sp?). He taught the handbook like he was a life coach. At night, you don't look at the headlights, just like when you get on the highway, you don't look for the cars you need to avoid, you always want to look at the space you want to be in, because wherever it is you're looking, that's where you're going to go.

Sports for me, as a kid, were an excuse for me to focus on my imperfections and internalize everything. My dad sometimes took me to the park with our gloves and a bat. He'd pitch to me and hit me pop-flies to chase down. When you get the bat solidly on the ball when it's right over the plate, it feels great. Your body fits right into the universe, takes its proper place, and it's exhilarating, peaceful, there's a zen about it. But when you don't quite get it, when you swing hard at the ball instead of swinging in time with it, even an ok hit jars your arms, feels wrong, and do it enough times, that's when you and your dad get into shouting matches. There is a wrath felt in a flawed technique.

I could stand by myself at the basketball court and work on my form, but it never seemed to help to put my hands in the right place or put the right arc on the ball, not nearly as much as seeing in my mind that ball going through the hoop. And whenever I'd look at the rim, I'd hit it. Didn't matter what my body was doing.

They say it's a mental game.

Games are supposed to teach us about life. As I sit trying to figure out what to write next, I look back at my previous posts and find myself looking at the rim, swinging too hard, feeling the threat of failure. It's an untenable position and I know it. Even this reflection is problematic. Catch-22 of course-correction: unless you know what you're doing wrong, you can't fix it, but if you look at the mistakes, you're probably just going to repeat them.

Beginning 20 seconds ago or so (see "beginnings") I'm swinging in time with the ball, watching it in the hoop, merging into the spaces between the cars. Hopefully my posts will reflect this, if I keep writing them. Halfway sure I will.