The bad, the good, and the peacock

We lost the opening game of the finals in dramatic fashion. We were up big in the 4th and blew it at the end. I was invisible offensively and had a costly turnover with under a minute left. Then to top it off I broke my glass water bottle in the locker room. This is the same locker room where I broke the screen of my phone earlier in the year. I need to be very careful of what I bring to that cursed place next game.

I was thinking that night, “I wish there was something I could take to rid myself of this horrible, sinking, aching gloominess.” It gave me a better understanding of how people get hooked on pain killers. Thankfully I didn’t have any narcotics handy. I had to deal with the hurt the old-fashioned way, which for me involves staying on the internet until I literally can’t keep my eyes open and then falling asleep before the negative thoughts can overwhelm me.

The good thing is there has never been a five game series that was won after the first game. We regrouped and won game 2 in double overtime. I played significantly better than the first game, although still nowhere near what I am capable of.

My coach has upped the dramatic speeches big time ever since the finals started, and sometimes it is a struggle to keep a straight face. He has told us that “WE MUST TO MAKE A FOUL,” and that we need to “stuck the player on the scream” (set a good screen.) Before one game he spoke at length about how he felt like a champion when his children were born, and how it made him so happy, and how he hopes we all get to experience that one day, and then he kind of trailed off into other pump-up clichés. Wait, what about the kids thing? Was he saying that winning would be equal to the elation one feels after having a child? That he would sacrifice a child for victory because it meant so much to him? Still not sure. I suppose the important thing is that he is passionate about winning.

Speaking of winning, last night I had a dream we won the championship. I woke up feeling awesome, but then I started thinking about how the last predictive dream I can remember involved me dominating a french test in high school. I ended up failing.

But, I am much better at basketball than I ever was at french (I took 5 years of it and can’t put together a sentence,) so I am going to take the dream as a good omen. Also, seeing this peacock can only be a portent of great things, so I am feeling upbeat about game 3 tomorrow night.

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