The Times, They are a Changin'

I went to a high school basketball game tonight.  It brought back memories of watching David play and reminded me of the picture in the bottom right section of this collage he made as part of his W & M application when he was a junior in high school.  Basketball required a sense of humor.





The phrase "Time Flies" is more truism than cliché as evidenced tonight when entering that gym: the smell of popcorn, blast of pre-game music, blare of the buzzer, screech of rubber soles on the court, and whistles were as familiar as if I'd been there last weekend.  I hadn't, though.  My former #31 guard is a now a lawyer nearly 31 years old.  What crystallized the awareness of the passage of time the most was sitting near former Houston Rocket, Matt Bullard, whose son now plays on our high school team. When David attended Bullard's summer basketball camp, not only was David several years too young for even the junior high team, Matt Bullard didn't yet have children.

I had really good time at the game though it wasn't the same without David on the court and without Micah and her friends at the top of the bleachers cheering and yelling at the refs.  And, Terry wasn't there feeling "emotions he'd rather not have," as he describes watching games in which he gives a damn who wins or loses.

My friend Vicki's name was drawn from a hat and she got to/had to compete in a halftime three-point shooting contest.  Vicki, sport that she is, charmed the audience and won the contest.