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...

"But patience is a virtue, being anxious just might hurt you..."

*This post has been chillin as a draft since September 30th! *tsk tsk* Well, I don't have anything else to do...so here it goes.*

Well, December will make three years since the last time I had a relaxer. See...I didn't do it to try to seem "more black". I mean, I'm light-skinned...and tans fade away. So, technically...I can't get "more black"!

This whole going natural thing started off as me trying to see how long I could go without a relaxer. After a year, I decided to just *points to barrel of water* gon' head & keep the party going. Now I'm debating on if I want locs, eventually.

But before I do that, I'm the process of growing out this "custom" color my beautician put in my head beginning in '07. I say "custom" because that's exactly what my beautician said when I asked her the name of the color. Look, I don't need folk to lie to me to make me feel special. I see the damn color on a Dark 'N Lovely kit at Soo Kim' Beauty Supply. Don't do me, lady! *side eye* So anywho, after this color is grown out, then I'll decide on what's next. That's alot of waiting...alot of patience!

As I approach the 24th year* of my life (Sagittarians, stand up!) I realize more and more each day that if you really want something, it's not going to come to you when you want. It's going to come on God's time. So in the meantime, you gotta practice patience. From joining a sorority to finally being able to take a tap dance class 20 years after seeing "Tap"...I have the patience of an effing** saint!

It's in my blood son!

K to the...

*iLie again.
** Is it blasphemous to use this euphemism before the word "saint"?

P.S. Cool points to whomever can tell me from what song this post's title comes.