Every once in a while when I start believe my own hype, my ego gets ahead of itself and then reality brings me crashing back down.
I already have three other blogs written and was going to post one of them now, but I think posting a blog that has nothing to do with Japan and everything to do with humanity takes precedence.
Sometimes, like recently I've contemplated stopping this blog and others and maybe find some other outlet. Then I give myself a shake and say, screw it. I'll do what I always do and plod on.
It is true that I become self-absorbed in my own minutiae thinking that whoa is me and here's another effing curve ball thrown at me because yet again, I'm not getting my way. You think I would be used to it. The whole decade of the 1990s, I was like Ferris Bueller and could do no wrong. Before and since... ahhh, not so much.
And it pisses me off royally when I contemplate what I don't have or what I have failed to accomplish.
And then I here about some stupid news story which makes me realize what a complete and utter jackass I am.
Even those this story has nothing to do with Japan, I would like to share it with you in the hopes you will share it with others. Or just recall it when you feel down.
This is a story that transcends borders. It is a story about humanity, and how not everyone is a liar or a cheat or a dick or pick your own colorful term.
It's a story about a basketball team. Or maybe it's about the team's coach. Or maybe it's about the team's fans. Or maybe it's about the opposing team. Or maybe its about one person on that team. Or maybe it's all that and more.
It's about one simple basket. Two stinking points in a high school basketball in which the outcome was not in doubt point wise but was in doubt heart wise.
It's the story of Mitchell Marcus, 18, who is a developmentally-disabled student.
It's about his basketball team - the Coronado T-Birds from El Paso Texas - who knew Mitchell loved basketball so much they named him the General Manager.
It's about Mitchell never complaining and getting the players water bottles and towels during the practices and games.
It's about his coach and teammates agreeing to allow Mitchell to dress for their final game - not as General Manager - but as a bench player.
It's about the coach actually planning to not only get Mitchell into a game, but to keep him in the game until he scored a basket.
It's about not caring if they lost or if they won.
It's about the coach keeping his word and inserting Mitchell onto the floor with two minutes left in the game.
It's about his teammates constantly feeding him the ball even though he would bobble passes or miss easy shots.
It's about not caring what the score was.
It's about the fans - other Coronado high school students cheering and groaning as Mitchell missed opportunity after opportunity - but not because the team needed the points.
It's about how with seconds left and Coronado not having possession of the ball, the opposing player called to Mitchell and inbounded the ball to him. On purpose. Giving the ball away to the opposition.
It's about Mitchell putting the ball up and in getting nothing but net.
It's about the team and the crowd jumping onto the basketball court to celebrate Mitchell's achievement.
It's about a happy mother.
It's about Mitchell being the happiest kid in the world for that moment.
But really, it's all about Jon Montanez who made the best turnover in the world in passing the ball to Mitchell - the most unselfish thing I have seen in a long, long time.
It's about Jon Montanez restoring my faith in humanity and making me feel happy and selfish all at the same time.
I watched the video below once about 30 minutes ago, and have been bawling my stupid eyes out while I write this.
It's beautiful.
And... if you are keeping score - shame on you - but Coronado won by 15 or something like that. I don;t even know Jon Montanez's team name. Whatever.
Jon Montanez... you can play on any team of mine you want.
Thanks, man.
Cheers
Andrew Joseph
I already have three other blogs written and was going to post one of them now, but I think posting a blog that has nothing to do with Japan and everything to do with humanity takes precedence.
Sometimes, like recently I've contemplated stopping this blog and others and maybe find some other outlet. Then I give myself a shake and say, screw it. I'll do what I always do and plod on.
It is true that I become self-absorbed in my own minutiae thinking that whoa is me and here's another effing curve ball thrown at me because yet again, I'm not getting my way. You think I would be used to it. The whole decade of the 1990s, I was like Ferris Bueller and could do no wrong. Before and since... ahhh, not so much.
And it pisses me off royally when I contemplate what I don't have or what I have failed to accomplish.
And then I here about some stupid news story which makes me realize what a complete and utter jackass I am.
Even those this story has nothing to do with Japan, I would like to share it with you in the hopes you will share it with others. Or just recall it when you feel down.
This is a story that transcends borders. It is a story about humanity, and how not everyone is a liar or a cheat or a dick or pick your own colorful term.
It's a story about a basketball team. Or maybe it's about the team's coach. Or maybe it's about the team's fans. Or maybe it's about the opposing team. Or maybe its about one person on that team. Or maybe it's all that and more.
It's about one simple basket. Two stinking points in a high school basketball in which the outcome was not in doubt point wise but was in doubt heart wise.
It's the story of Mitchell Marcus, 18, who is a developmentally-disabled student.
It's about his basketball team - the Coronado T-Birds from El Paso Texas - who knew Mitchell loved basketball so much they named him the General Manager.
It's about Mitchell never complaining and getting the players water bottles and towels during the practices and games.
It's about his coach and teammates agreeing to allow Mitchell to dress for their final game - not as General Manager - but as a bench player.
It's about the coach actually planning to not only get Mitchell into a game, but to keep him in the game until he scored a basket.
It's about not caring if they lost or if they won.
It's about the coach keeping his word and inserting Mitchell onto the floor with two minutes left in the game.
It's about his teammates constantly feeding him the ball even though he would bobble passes or miss easy shots.
It's about not caring what the score was.
It's about the fans - other Coronado high school students cheering and groaning as Mitchell missed opportunity after opportunity - but not because the team needed the points.
It's about how with seconds left and Coronado not having possession of the ball, the opposing player called to Mitchell and inbounded the ball to him. On purpose. Giving the ball away to the opposition.
It's about Mitchell putting the ball up and in getting nothing but net.
It's about the team and the crowd jumping onto the basketball court to celebrate Mitchell's achievement.
It's about a happy mother.
It's about Mitchell being the happiest kid in the world for that moment.
But really, it's all about Jon Montanez who made the best turnover in the world in passing the ball to Mitchell - the most unselfish thing I have seen in a long, long time.
It's about Jon Montanez restoring my faith in humanity and making me feel happy and selfish all at the same time.
I watched the video below once about 30 minutes ago, and have been bawling my stupid eyes out while I write this.
It's beautiful.
And... if you are keeping score - shame on you - but Coronado won by 15 or something like that. I don;t even know Jon Montanez's team name. Whatever.
Jon Montanez... you can play on any team of mine you want.
Thanks, man.
Cheers
Andrew Joseph
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