Basketball Chronicles: It's Still There

Back in February, I had drafted a blogpost about how I felt my love for basketball was dwindling. Basketball used to be my refuge from everything. When I was on the court, nothing else mattered. If I couldn't sleep, I would go put up some shots (Oh how I've missed going to a gym opened 24 hours).

It came to point where I was playing solely for cardio; like it was an assignment or something. I was playing with grown ass males who acted like children. I wrote about some of the ish I went through on this blog, but there was a lot of ish I didn't write about. You'd think after 4 years of playing with the same males every week, I wouldn't have to deal with them coming at me sideways every week solely because I am a woman.

So, I started running more. And it seemed running was going to replace basketball as my refuge...until I joined a another gym after moving back to the city. It wasn't that I didn't like playing basketball anymore...I just needed a change of scenery.

I am running the Divine Nine 5K in June, then I will begin training in August for the Hot Chocolate 15K. 

15K. 

9.3 miles.

WHAT AM I DOING!?!?!

After I conquer the 15K, there will be no reason for me to continue running. I have no aspirations to do a half or full marathon. Distance running is cool, but I have come to the conclusion that I really don't like it. I love basketball way more than running.

I am slowly but surely getting back to my refuge. I haven't stepped on the court in 3 weeks. That's 3 weeks too long.

That's how I know the love is still there.

K to the...

Basketball Chronicles: It's Like I have ESP(N)

Around this time last year, I got into a heated argument with a guy at the gym. Dude reminds me of Patty Mills who plays with the Spurs.

So that’s what I’ll be calling him throughout the post.

Patty and I were on opposing teams, and he's yapping the entire game. His team hits a “game-winner” when really, the shot only put them up by 1 point. After a lot of back-and-forth, I just take the loss and go sit down. I’m Sweet Brown to the excessive arguing.

As I’m gathering my items to go home, Patty proceeds to come to sit right by me and continues talking. He goes “These mother****ers…,” and before he could even finish his statement, I calmly go “First of all, I’m no mother***er. I am a grown woman, so you will address me as such.” He’s still talking, being loud and disrespectful…and I’m steady reiterating that he will address me as the woman that I am with some respect. I'm calm, but I'm fuming on the inside because he has came over by me with the intention of starting mess. The one? I am not.

He must have gotten the point that I was making because ever since that day, he is nice to me every time I've seen him; even when I run into him outside of the gym. I’ve seen him get into arguments with multiple people, but he has yet to try that with me again.

Usually when I get into arguments with guys, they ALWAYS try to flirt sometime later. Never. Fails. Well, Patty made a move on me while we were on the court this past Sunday. -__- Before the game begins, he tells me that he might be an asshole on the court, but he’s a sweetheart in person. I just laugh it off. Then the following happens:

Patty: So can I get those digits? Can I take you out sometime?
Me: Don’t you have a baby on the way? Which means you have a boo, right?
Patty: Well, we can go on a dinner date. Can we go on a lunch date? [Note: Our jobs aren't that far from each other. We've run into each while on lunch.]
Me: *scoffs*

As we were all gathering our items so we can leave, my phone was next to me on the bench. He picks it up and goes “I’m just going to put my number in your phone now.” He sees my phone is locked and goes “I don’t even know your passcode.”

And you won't know my number either. Beat it!

K to the...

Basketball Chronicles: Getting all choked up

Some of my favorite classes in undergrad were sociology classes. Every time I go play ball, I feel like I’m in “Sociology 300: Men Who Act Like How ONLY Women Supposedly Act, As If Men Aren’t Human Beings.”

So, there is a game going on, and I can hear this one guy going off on the other end of the court. He does it so much, I don't bother trying to figure out the reason. So, the play comes down to the end of the court where I was shooting around. The guy who was going off gets bumped out of bounds by the person whom, I believe, he fouled on the other end. Rage is fully activated at this point. Someone pass me the popcorn!

Let me back up a bit.

The rager is shorter than me…5’4” at the most. His target? At least 5’11”.

OK, I’m back.

The rager pushes his target. Then proceeds to put his hands around his neck and chokes him as he is pushing him back. I’ve seen this dude go off before, but what was noticeable this time was that NOBODY tried to stop it. I guess folk were tired of his shenanigans. And I definitely wasn’t going to get in between two grown men. Sheeeiiiiiiiid!

The court monitor doesn't say anything. But a lady who works at the front desk just so happens to be in there and sees it. She tells him he has to go. He tries to plead his case or whatever, and walks out of the gym. A few minutes later, he walks back in and the lady who initially told him he had to leave is following him. Words are exchanged, and he then says “you’re a dumbass bitch.”

*screeching wheels*

That might be the last time I see that guy play ball in that place. He just might be banned for life because not only did he disrespect a fellow member; he disrespected an employee.

Maybe he should try some yoga.

K to the…

Basketball Chronicles: Unlike Kevin Gates...

...I'm getting tired.

Because I was woke at 5a Sunday morning (Will cover in another blogpost), I got to the gym extra early and was able to shoot around with no interruptions. There is this guy who is at the gym every Sunday. Whenever I'm shooting by myself, he always offers to rebound for me. I think it's really sweet of him of him to do that. So, because I'm able to just shoot and establish a rhythm, I'm nice and warmed up.

My warm-up pays off because I'm on fire during the first game. The game ends in a tie. Wanting to give myself a "heat check," I say that I'll shoot for the win. The other team shoots, and misses. So, this guy named Alex takes it upon himself to shoot for the win. He misses. No prob...I'll shoot when it's our team's turn again. The other team misses, so the ball bounces to this young ball hog whose name escapes me right now. I have my hands out asking for ball...he passes it to Alex. I say "I'm standing here for a reason." Alex misses the shot. Now, I'm pissed because this could have been over. Yes, I had that much confidence in my shot.

Now we're on the third round of shots, other team misses. Alex brings the ball over to me and puts it by my feet. I kick that shit away and say "Don't try to give it to me now!" Someone hit for our team (I guess it was him. I wasn't looking) because we got the win and are back on the court for the next game. He comes over and tells me that he thought it would be easier if the same person shot for ball. This is utter bullshit because the next time there is a tie game, he misses...then gives the ball to someone else on our team to shoot. Dude misses and we ended up on the sideline.

The other two times I was disrespected was by the same person who calls the same bullshit as "traveling" when I hit someone with a ball fake and dribble around to shoot a shot that will brings my team closer to a win. It's never called when it's the beginning of the game. This is how I know the call is false. So he makes the call and then gets loud, because to him, if he's the loudest...then he's correct. Sunday when he made the call, I had a teammate to speak up for me so I didn't have to say anything. But Monday, I told him about himself. When I continued to talk as he does, then he wants to cut me off. I told him it's OK for him to continue talking about a play, but if someone does it to him, now they have to shut up.

Do you know two games later, he was still talking about that one play? On the sideline whining. I heard him and asked "You're still talking about that?"

I'm tired. I'm tired of the disrespect. I'm tired of these grown ass men cheating. I'm tired of hearing whining from these men who are quick to say another dude is "acting like a female". I'm tired of wondering if some dude is going to get in his feelings because he's threatened by my presence on the court and wants to call false calls.

I'm tired.

K to the...

Nike loves Chicago

On August 14th thru 16th, Nike held the World Basketball Festival in my city, Chi-City. This festival wasn't on the north side; it wasn't downtown. No, this festival was held on the best side of the city...the south side, at the 63rd street beach.

Of course I had to throw on the #8. 

I didn't know what to expect at the festival; I just knew I had to go. I checked out the Tournament of Champions, watching some of the best in the Chi play against some of the best in NYC. I saw hella Chi-town basketball legends. Current NBA players, retired NBA players, and plenty of movers and shakers of the city.

But the highlight for me was the exhibit that gave a history of Nike basketball shoes. From the very first pair of basketball shoes made by Nike, to Forces, to Flights, To Jordans, to Lebrons, to Kevin Durant's...I wish I would have taken pictures of everything. What was so dope about the exhibit was how it was customized for Chicago. When I saw pics of two parks I've frequented as a kid and adult, I couldn't help but to smile.

Seeing these pics took me back to when I first started playing basketball. I didn't even have proper basketball attire, but I was in the alleys on the milk crate trying to establish my game; pretending to be Scottie Pippen in a game we made up called "The Passing Game." When we got older and were able to ride to the parks, we'd go to Avalon, Cole or Tuley Park; wherever we could find a pick-up game. Then, as an adult, I was at Cole, and then 63rd & Hayes when I moved to the South Shore area. Some people got their suntans at the beach. I got mine on the basketball court.

I truly do love this game of basketball. I'm sitting here typing right now with my left forearm on fire after it caught a serious elbow this morning. I don't know. Maybe it's not meant for me to wear heels until I'm 75 like my grandmother. But I do know I can't let this game go. Whether I'm playing or watching...it's in my soul. And it's nothing I can and will do to stop it.

K to the...

Basketball Chronicles: No.

My ex and I are members of the same gym. When we were together, I visited with him a few times and loved it. Obviously, I didn't let a break-up affect where I go to "get it right, get it tight."

Because of previous experiences (click the "basketball" tag below for a recap), I don't get involved with guys from the gym. And, I'm definitely not trying to get involved with ANYONE connected to my ex. I don't care if the connection is a weekly hoop session.

No.

However, someone at the gym has forgotten that stance that I've made perfectly clear when dealing with Lt. Daniels. One of my good male friends says this someone may feel like he's an exception to my rule because he talks to me like I'm one of the fellas. The sexts and pics he's shown me...cheese and rice!

So two weeks ago, this happens

Excuse me?! What happened to asking?

Because of my straightforward response, this past Sunday, I had to hear him whine MULTIPLE TIMES about how I'm not his girl anymore...

...while holding a wall decal I ordered for him that he didn't give me the money for on Sunday because the money for the decal had to be used to pay an unexpected fee at the gym.

He told me that I could have told him why he couldn't come over. Is "OK I guess not" code for "Why"? I don't speak "Man"...someone help me out. After getting annoyed with his whining, I told him "You're being sensitive about this because I don't text you like these strags whose messages you show to me."

Please note, this is the same person who has had people asking him if we've had sex because they see us sitting on the sideline, talking and laughing. If that's the case, I'm juicing a few dudes; including the gentleman who graduated from h.s. before my mom hit puberty that I chat with whenever I see him.

Looks like I have to go back to keeping to myself on Sundays.

K to the...

Basketball Chronicles: Respect

Due to, possibly, the Bears opener, there wasn't a lot of bodies on the court. The hoop session ended about an hour earlier than usual. I wasn't quite ready to leave after getting a win, but I was ready to go watch the Bears.

So, I made a little joke to the guys who were getting ready to leave. Keep in mind, I'm 2-5 years older than the guys I was joking with. I called them "old".

Well, someone felt some type of way about the joke and proceed to downplay what I go through on the court.

"You don't get banged up as much as we do. All you do is stand out there and shoot."

-__-

Let me remind you at 5' 5 1/2", maybe 130 lbs, I am the smallest person on the court. There is a dude shorter than me on the court, but he has more weight. I'm playing against guys faster and stronger than me. I'm playing against guys who have been gassed to think they are post players because they can back me (and only me) down in the paint. I'm playing against guys who challenge me when I'm on offense and when I'm on defense; which I appreciate. I've NEVER asked anyone to show me any type of mercy on the court.

Basically, I PLAY BASKETBALL!!!

I've been playing this game for 20+ years. I won't allow anybody to downplay what I go through when I step on that court.

I guess me wearing an ankle brace and knee band is just for show.

K to the...

#31WriteNow Bonus: Basketball Chronicles Update

On Day 12, I wrote about two older men at the gym who talked smack to me, and only me, while on the court two Sundays ago.

Well, I found out yesterday that Grandpa #1 thought I was another lady who used to come to the court and talk smack on the regular.  He was still in his feelings about whatever she said to him 3 or more years ago and was "getting revenge"...but he had the wrong lady.

LMAOjdakdjfaepurdkag!

Get your baby ass outta here!

Again, how old are we?

K to the...

#31WriteNow Day 12 - Basketball Chronicles: How Old Are We?

As the hoop session was winding down yesterday, we were a couple of players short to run a full.  So, two older guys who usually play half-court decide to joins us.

Game is going, I call out the score every time a team scores.  My team has had the lead for the majority of the game.  So, I call out the score of 9-7.  Now, it's an issue to the older dudes.  I'll refer to them as Grandpa #1 and Grandpa #2.  In #1's mind, the score is 7-7.  Nobody has said anything about the score all game.  Now that the other team is down...they want to complain about the score.

Also known as "cheat".  I can't stand a cheater.

So, everyone (except me) agrees the score is 7-7.  I don't call out the score anymore.  #1 and #2 proceed to talk shit to me for the rest of that game, and the two following games.  Nobody else...just me.  

At one point, #2 mocks my voice.  

Really?

Obviously, it was 1992, and I was on the playground during recess.

K to the...

Basketball Chronicles: My Name is My Name

*Word to Marlo Stansfield*

I don't know what it is about Sunday morning hoop sessions that test my baby gangster...but it was tested once again this past Sunday.

It was the last or second-to-last game of the hoop session.  A guy comes in to replace one of my teammates.  One of my teammates points out everyone on our team:

Jerk:  It's me, [name], [name], [name], and "the girl"
One of the NAMED fellas:  Why does she have to be "the girl"?
Me:  I have a name.  It's Kenya.
Jerk:  It's easier to say "the girl".
Me:  No, it's easier to say "Kenya."
Jerk:  He might not know who "Kenya" is.
Me:  Everybody in here knows who I am. I'm the only lady in here on Sundays.

After the game, he tries to explain why he said "the girl."

Jerk:  I said "the girl" because he may not have known who "Kenya" is.
Me:  But my name is, usually, for a female.  If he heard the name, he would think "Oh, the lady on the court."
Jerk:  I wasn't thinking like that.

Obviously.

There is no logical explanation for referring to me as anything except "Kenya".  Especially since I've been a Sunday regular the past year and a half.

Stupid ish like this is why I stopped hooping on Sundays, for about 3 months.  I felt like my time was being wasted (If certain folk aren't on maugs' team, they don't want to play right) and my game wasn't being respected.  Not only do I have to be strong, physically; I have to be mentally strong, as well.

K to the...

P.S.  Young Money still has no post moves and still can't score on me.  More proof that height and lifting weights don't mean ish if you don't know how to use it.

Swank!

Basketball Chronicles: Ego

I am 5' 5 1/2" (Doctor claims I'm not 5'6". Hmph)...125 lbs...and I play basketball with men weighing 150 lbs and more on a weekly basis.  Yess...everyone is bigger than me.  Keep this tidbit in mind as the blogpost continues. 

Lately, I've noticed lately how funny the male ego is on the basketball court.  I've heard the dumbest arguments.  But I find comedy in the male ego in regards to me.  Now, I've told you my size...which leads to guys getting offended when I play D on them.  I've heard a guy go "Are you serious?"  In his eyes, if I'm playing defense on him, it means that I think I can take him...which means I don't think he's that good.

This is when my ego kicks in.  Now, because you don't think I "deserve" to play D on you, I gotta 1) Prove to myself that I can stick you; 2) Light that auss up when I get the ball.

You'd be amazed by all the ish talked to me on the court.  But when I say something back, it's "Oh, you're talking ish?"  You damn right I am...and I'm gonna try my damnedest to back it up, too.

Ego...such a funny thing.

K to the...

Love & Basketball Chronicles: You gon' learn today!

I'm not the type who talks mess when on the court.  Actually, I don't say much, aside from typical teammate talk ("Shoot the J.  SHOOT IT!") or calling out the score.  However, on a fine Sunday morning following a night of tomfoolery while celebrating another Dirty Flirty Thirty birthday, I was talking.  I was getting fed up with these two dudes who happen to have the same name.  So, to protect the guilty, they'll be referred to as "Young Money" and "Old Money".

Young Money
Young Money is about 6 inches taller, and at least 20 pounds heavier than me.  He constantly talks mess to me on the court and I usually ignore it.  However, on this fine Sunday morning, ignoring him wasn't happening.  YM was trying to get his Baby Shaq on because he just KNEW he could score on me due to this size advantage.  In the midst of all the action, I calmly stated "[YM], you might not wanna underestimate my size or strength. It's not a good look for you."

He laughed.

And scored 0 points when posting me up.  I tried told him!

Old Money
Old Money is in his 50s and is in pretty good shape.  We always end up playing D on each other when we're on opposite teams.  For the past month, I've noticed he's been getting extra frisky with his defense.  One day, I felt hands all over my body, like there was a sign on my glutes that said "FREE FEELS!"  After this instance of on-court molestation, I started to pay more attention to how he plays defense on others.  Yeah...major difference.

So, on this same fine Sunday morning, I was being hacked by OM.  I even heard him say "You're not getting sh*t today" under his breath.  O_O  I got fed up and called a foul on him (something I rarely do).  Then, I spoke up about his hack attacks on me compared to everyone else.  Of course, he denied it, but I wasn't backing down.

The next time he was on defense, he was like 3 feet away from me.

I hope I'm able to go back to my quiet self when I step back on the court.

K to the...

Love & Basketball Chronicles: The Thirst Is Back

I don't know if it's because I've been coming to the gym solo dolo, or if folk are just being bold; but, maugs have been flirting more than usual on the court the past few months.  Per usual, I blow it off.  Thanks to my experiences at the YMCA, I have no interest in conversing with guys outside of the gym.

So yesterday, after a wack hooping session due to not winning any games, I was off to the side watching the half-court games, resting.  This dude - we'll call him Lt. Cedric Daniels - sits near me.  After talking about the games we just finished, he decided to get up in my business.  The conversation goes as follows:

Daniels: Do you have a boyfriend?
Me:  No.  And I'm not looking either.
Daniels: Don't wanna be bothered?
Me:  Nope, not at all
Daniels:  We should hook up. You should hang with me at the lakefront
Me: *acts like I'm so into the game I'm watching that I don't hear him.*
Daniels: So, can we hook up?  What's your name?
Me: Kenya
Daniels: I'm [redacted]
Me: ...
Daniels: So can we hook up?
Me:  I don't hook up with anyone I hoop with up here.
Daniels: I don't really go here.  Someone hooked me up with this gym.  I just started going here.  You've been here longer than me, right?
Me: About a year.
Daniels:  So we can't hook-up?

Thankfully, at this point, someone came over talking ish and joking around.  So, I was able to successfully Euro-step out that unnecessary auss convo.  He also thought because I was shooting around with this one dude who comes on the court smelling like molded cheese from 1998, that the stinky guy was my boyfriend.  Negroid, GO GET SOME BUSINESS!

I need guys to understand that not all women want to be in a relationship.  If I say I don't want to be bothered, that doesn't mean try harder.  Maybe if he still thought I was 18, I wouldn't have dealt with this.

K to the...

Love & Basketball Chronicles...9.20.10 pt. deux

Like I've said before, I've come across different types of men at the gym. I was so disgusted by the guys I would see, that any "gym rat", was NOT boyfriend potential, for me.

Well, my theory was proven wrong. Maybe because he doesn't have a membership at the Y. It's something about the level "bitch" in those Y cats that...

Wait, what was I saying?

Anywho, I used to be too friendly when it came to giving out my phone number. I would give guys my number, thinking they'll be cool...but then they'll turn out to be crazy, like this cat here.

So I stopped doing that ish. But I'd notice that some guys would just give me their numbers, without me asking; the same guys I had NO interest in.

Let's take it back...way back...but not really. Let's rewind to LAST YEAR (that's right, 2009).

I'm walking to my car as I'm leaving the gym and this guy walks out with me. He willingly gives me his number...I said I MIGHT call him. MIGHT! I think I may have seen him once or twice after that.

Now fast forward to July of THIS YEAR.

I see him and I say "what's up?"

He rolls his eyes at me.

O__O

I mean he rolled them so hard I should have hit him with the "You can roll em, you can control em, but you sholl can't..."

We ended up on the same team. He'll say what was necessary (ya know simple ish like "shoot the J...SHOOT IT!"1), but once the game is over, he still wouldn't speak to me.

It wasn't until last week when I was chatting with the Young Blood that he decides to speak.

So I hit him with the "now you wanna speak?" This is when he said he was mad at me because I didn't call him...LAST YEAR! He said he'll speak next time I see him....after he tried to give me his number, again!!!

What did we learn today, boys and girls?

Some men wear briefs...then you have some that wear panties. lol

K to the...

1. I was shullbitting. lol

Love & Basketball Chronicles: Hate Edition 9.20.10

Hello there, sports fans.

Time for another installment in “The Love & Basketball Chronicles: Hate edition”.

This post is about the "Young Meat". For those who didn’t read my blogpost on what a young meat is, here’s a quick review.

After a two week hiatus due to the basketball courts being closed, the gym is back open. So last week, as I was waiting for my game, I went off to the side to shoot some free throws. Well, this young gentleman, who we’ll call “Young Blood” decides to shoot around with me. No problem. Then, it turns into a series of free throw shooting contests, best out of 5. I’m thinking it’s all good (as in no flirting) because this Y.B. is aware of my age.

I was wrong.

So it gets to the tie breaking shot, and he goes “7-7-3.” I laugh it off like “I know he isn’t tryna ask for my number on the sly.

He was.

And he repeats it again. I wave him off, because I AIN'T GOING!!!

Before we left the gym, he says “You owe me!” I told him I owe him a Gatorade for losing.

Better to restore your electrolytes, rather than have your ego shattered by me NOT giving you my digits.

K to the...

Hate & Basketball

What up yall! Welcome to the 2nd blogpost of the day. :-)

This is the 2nd installment in my chronicles on the court entitled "Hate & Basketball". I thought it would be ideal to share with my 5 readers my experiences at the gym.

Today, we're going to focus on the different types of guys I encounter at the gym.

1. The "Young Meat"

This is usually a young phallus-carrier between the ages of 16 and 23. He tries to holla, lowkey. It starts with a little flirting while on the court with me, then when I'm sitting down, he comes over and 99.999% of the time, the convo goes like this:

YM: What h.s. you go to?
Me: I graduated
YM: What college you go to?
Me: I graduated

2. The "Coach"

I put this in quotation marks because this person isn't a damn coach. He usually falls in the "Young Meat" category; but he feels that because he has a phallus, he has better knowledge of the game. Whereas, I have a vagina and don't know what I'm doing, besides run and make sure I dribble. He's usually the one saying:

"You've got to shoot more. Don't hesitate, just let it ride."
"I'm gonna set a screen for you and you're gonna shoot it"
"Let's run a play...Computer Blue"

Ok, maybe not the last line, but you get the point. How bout you shut up! I've been playing longer than you've been on Earth.

3. The "Underestimator"

Just this past Tuesday, my team was on a winning streak. During the 1st game, I was a bit sluggish since I hadn't hooped in over a month and was extra lax while on the court. So this "Young Meat" gets on the court and say "I'm gonna stick the girl. She's only gonna shoot...not much running around."

Ha!

I ran dude all over the court...and jizzed on him, dropping 3s all in his face.

4. The "Whiner"

This is the dude who is constantly complaining. I mean, I'm 5'6"...135lbs. You damn right I'm moving out the way when 6'12"...185lbs is charging towards the hoop, knees up. Negro gon' tell me "step in front him". What, and have a mastectomy & hysterectomy? I like my mams and uterus, thank you very much.

Every trip to the court has me either cracking up or side-eyeing until my ocular muscles can't take it anymore. But I love it...and I love the game. *shrug*

K to the...

Introducing...

Hey guys!

It's unofficially the summer here in the Chi. The hoodrats are out and the White Castle on 79th St. has been jumping.

That's right...summertime Chi!

Well, summertime seems to be when I hoop more than usual. I'm not being vain, but being one of the only cute, look-like-a-female females who be hooping at the Y, I encounter alot of guys trying to hit on me.

From 15 (yeah, I said it) to almost 40.

I decided I would blog share with my 4 readers what I see/hear/encounter when I'm at the gym. So ladies and gents, I introduce to you...

"Lust and Basketball"

Today's post starts with a guy who just doesn't take no for answer. We'll call him Possum Aloysius...or P.A. for short.

I've had my membership at this particular YMCA since 2005. I think I met P.A. back in 2006. This is when I was in my friendly stage. Ya know...give a guy number if he asks...chit chat on the phone as friends.

Well, P.A. was starting to become a bit too possessive for me. I mean, would get upset if I'm conversing with another guy while waiting for my "next"...or go play 1-on-1 with someone else (Will save the 1-on-1 stories for another post). Sir, you've never seen me in anything besides a Bradley Athletics t-shirt, shorts and Nike Shox. Go satcho auss down, nah!

Anywho, P.A. start getting a little crazy...talking to me any type of way, so I ignored his auss! He'll call...I wouldn't answer. After a while, he got a clue. *Praise Moses*

Fast forward to Spring 2009, I see him at the gym. He had moved to Iowa, but was still in Chicago on the weekends or...som'n. I don't remember...which shows how much I cared, right? Anywho, he apologize for what happened in '06 and then tried to make his move, asking if we can try again.

Try what, sir?

Um...no.

Fast forward to last month. Now when I see him, it's annoying. Everywhere I am, he just so happens to be near me. I'm sitting on the floor, dripping in sweat waiting for the next game, here he comes to talk to the guy running the court about some young negroid who he schooled a few days ago.

Sir, nobody cares.

Below is a conversation that we had the last time I went to hoop. This convo is going on as I'm shooting around, waiting for the next 5 to get on the court (My team was ON on this day)

P.A.: What are you doing when you leave here?
Me: Going to get something to eat, then going home?
P.A.: Can I take you to dinner
Me: No
P.A.: Why not?
Me: Because when I go home, I'm taking a shower, then going to sleep
P.A.: We can go out to eat after you take your shower
Me: No
*sidenote: gym doesn't close till 10. At this point, it's almost 9p*
P.A.: When can I take you out?
Me: I don't want to go out with you
P.A.: Can we exchange numbers again?
Me: No
P.A.: Why not? Because of last time?
Me: I'm just not interested
P.A.: Well, how bout I give you my number, then you can call me if you want.
Me: I guess

I made sure he didn't see me when I left the gym. lol

K to the...