“If you carry your childhood with you, you never become older.” -Tom Stoppard
What do you miss from sports these days? Here are the things I find myself yearning for:
Ken Griffey, Jr. and his backwards hat. His smoother-than-an-insurance-salesman swing. His willingness to sacrifice life itself to run down ANY ball hit in his direction. And that trademarked self-admiring stare as he strutted towards first, watching his latest jack sail over the fence.
John Stockton setting and taking picks on/from power forwards. His ability to see a play happen in his mind before it actually took place. The bounce pass down into the post. The speed of hands both on defense and offense. Seeing him take the ball coast to coast for a layup before the defense could even turn around. His signature quirky over-the-shoulder shot.
Payne Stewart. His clothes, yes. But not JUST his clothes. His game, his smile, his fist pumps, his rugged swing and follow through, and his celebration after winning the US Open.
Cal Ripken, Jr. and Steve Young.
Fast, lean, tall, quick and athletic offensive/defensive linemen.
Golden Goals
Larry H. Miller: one of the best people to ever walk this earth. He was a role model, and not just because of the good things he did. When he made mistakes, he fessed up to them, apologized, made it right, and became a better person because of it all.
Patrick Ewing dripping reservoir-sized drops of sweat in the key, thus employing a TEAM of towel-boys/towel-girls underneath each basket, charged with being the fastest acting human wet-vacs imaginable before he returned the next time down the floor.
Old school uniforms: such as high socks in baseball, Kareem/Rambis-like goggles in basketball, and Dan Mariono-esque face masks in football.
Lil Penney commercials.
For that matter, Penney Hardaway's swagger, Tim Hardaway's no-rotation shot, and Muggsy Bogues.
Monday Night Football without Mike Tirico, or Tony Kornheiser, or Jon Gruden. Never should've lost Al Michaels.
Two-hand touch at recess. Tackle when the "duty" wasn't lurking...
Homerun derbys in the backyard with a t-ball stand, foam bat, and plastic wiffle balls.
Raspberries from sliding into home ahead of the tag.
Hot Rod Hundley. Ernie Harwell. Jack Buck.
Roller/street hockey after school.
Karl Malone turn-arounds. Karl Malone defense. Karl Malone power. Karl Malone taking thirty days to shoot a free throw.
The Seattle Supersonics. The Sonics-Jazz rivalry circa Shawn Kemp, Detlef Schrempf and Gary Payton.
The CALIFORNIA Angels. None of this Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim via Denver near Boise sans New York neighboring Mars business....
Marathon games of "hot-box", or "pickle," in the backyard with my brothers, dad, cousins, uncles, friends, etc.
Long summer days spent in my basement, in my pajamas, usually til about 3 or 4 PM, playing game after game, making trade after trade, hitting homerun after homerun, and WINNING game after game on N64's "Major League Baseball Featuring Ken Griffey, Jr."
And finally, THE BOTTOM LINE of what I'm missing most from sports these days: Every single Saturday having either a soccer game, a basketball game, or a baseball game to play in. Sometimes a combination of those. *Sigh*.....Mine was a blessed childhood, indeed.
“The childhood shows the man, as morning shows the day” -John Milton
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