(Not to be confused with “The Way I Are“…)
It’s not a good thing when the title of any blogpost is inspired by Eminem. Basically all his songs are about domestic violence and how angry and messed up he is. And even though I’m totally Angsty!J sometimes, um, I’m not really on that level. So.
Let me just get this out of the way: There are very, very few things in the world I hate more than losing. Like, ignorance, intolerance, hatred, basic bitches, etc. etc., right? Basically just the worst things in the world, and then there’s losing, pretty high up there with the rest of ’em. I can’t stand it. It doesn’t matter what the game is — ultimate, basketball, Scrabble, checkers, whatever — I hate losing. Whether it’s something I’m decently good at (bowling) or something I’m terrible at (running), I don’t like losing. And it’s not so much that I hate losing to someone else, it’s that I hate that I didn’t win. Like, the opponent doesn’t even matter to me about 99% of the time. Does that even make sense? Would saying that I hate “not winning” make more sense than saying that I “hate losing”? I don’t know. I just hate it.
I especially hate when I don’t play well. It makes my blood boil. I’m a perfectionist and a competitor. It’s like, I’m not even that good to begin with, so when I don’t play well I look like the worst ever. And I know how much work goes into my game, and so when I don’t play well I get frustrated. Like I said, it doesn’t matter what it is: practice, scrimmage, summer league, tournament, whatever. I can’t stand not playing as well as I know I can. And I’m the worst kind of person in that all I think about are the things that I’ve done wrong or messed up (although I generally fret less over these things when my team wins :P). You name a tournament I’ve played in and I can name you at least half the turns I was responsible for for that particular tourney.
Put both of those things together with my bad temper and you have a powder keg of anger and violence. That sounds like an exaggeration, but it’s not, I assure you. I have a nasty temper. Not towards other people, but towards myself. I’ve had an outburst or two at other people, I won’t lie, but those are honestly quite few and far between. About 99% of the time, all of my anger is directed towards myself. And it can get so bad that I’ll have rage blackouts from time to time. I’ll say or do things that I won’t remember and even worse — don’t mean to do or say. The most destructive thing I ever remember doing is just straight punching the hell out of the endzone at CCC. I mean, I was wailing (both meanings, probably) on that ground. After that weekend I thought maybe I had broken my hand, I went at it so hard (pause). I mean, in retrospect: what a dumbshit thing to do, y’know? But in that moment I was SO LIVID. I think that if I could have burst into flames, I probably would have.
Sometimes I take my anger and do really productive things with it. Sometimes it makes me more focused on D, or it’ll energize me on O. I’ll be in my player’s pants, or I’ll be running her ragged all over the field because I’m running on anger and adrenaline. But other times, like that time at CCC, my anger will take me off my game. I’ll be out of control and inconsolable and just taken out of the game entirely. But the most destructive thing about that is that it affects my teammates, and I really hate that about myself. My teammates don’t know if I’m going to be able to just walk and breath it out, or if I’m gonna go hulksmash. I can only imagine that it’s like playing with Ron Artest — what crazy shit is he gonna do next? It’s distracting and takes the focus away from the game you’re trying to win.
And oh man, I love when my team wins. I’ve learned that there’s almost nothing more rewarding than winning something and accomplishing something as a team — to get that many moving parts to work at their best and to work together is really challenging, and so when you finally do get it right, it’s an amazing feeling. So it makes me feel like a grade A douche-b that I can so often just fly off the handle and take my team’s attention away from the action on the field and to me punching some poor patch of ground. It was especially bad when I was team captain my senior year. As a leader, your teammates are looking to you to set the tone of the game. When you lose your shit like that and just lose all semblance of composure, your teammates can not only sense it (when I make it obvious as I did), but they feed off of that. I mean honestly, how many of you would wholeheartedly follow Ron Artest into battle of any sort? Unless it was a battle of the crazies, I’m not sure that any of you would feel confident about him leading you.
Not just that, but I totally get that it’s off-putting and reflects poorly on me as an athlete and a person. The thing is that I’m not that kind of person who can’t be happy for people who win. Like I said, I’m not mad at the other team for winning, I’m mad at myself for losing. I try my best to lose and win with humility, and to genuinely mean it when I shake my opponent’s hand and say “good game” at the end of it all. And I’m not a violent or aggressive person. I’m really not. Alright, I take that back. I’m an aggressive driver, but person, no. I think the worst possible thing you could ever call someone is a pooface, and I’m sometimes too scared to start conversations with three year olds who can hardly talk. (Good thing I overcame that fear momentarily, as you’ll read about later.) But someone who is watching me play ultimate might never get that about me. I’m willing to bet that so many people watch me play (read: about three people) and think to themselves, “What a jerk. Wouldn’t want that kid on my team.” And I wouldn’t blame them because I behave like a petulant six year old sometimes.
Last Monday at summer league, I played possibly the most horrific game of my ultimate career. I am aware that it’s only summer league, but whatever, you know? I hate sucking. I can’t even begin to think about all the stupid turnovers I committed, because then my skin starts crawling. Like getting broken for that huge upfield throw. Or that horrendous “huck” — I can’t even call it that. I don’t know what to call it, but it looked like I had turned around, closed my eyes, and just chucked the thing backwards over my head. It was ugly. And oh yeah, I threw a mothereffin’ callahan. Like, I didn’t even have the presence of mind to at least turn it upfield, I had to throw it backwards to a dump for a callahan. I can feel the vomit of hatred coming up my throat right now, I’m so livid looking back on it. And that night, I lay in bed thinking about each and every single one of those turnovers. The next day during my workout, I thought about nothing but those turns. I did extra reps and sets for each and every single one of those dumb things and I was at the gym and at the lakefront for about five hours. It was horrendous. I found myself still beating myself up over it Tuesday and Wednesday nights, and then finally I lay in bed thinking to myself, “You know what, self? You are a real piece of work, you know that? Like honestly? You played a bad game. At summer league. It fuckin’ happens. You didn’t have to go shit your pants over it, honestly. Get over it. It has little to no consequence on the rest of your life. And you know what, while we’re at it? This whole ‘chip on your shoulder’ thing is getting really fuckin’ old. Like, not everyone thinks you’re terrible, and not everyone looks at you and automatically thinks ‘short, slow, asthmatic, unathletic midget’, y’know? So quit doing this stupid, annoying thing where you feel like you have to prove yourself at every turn. It’s really tired, and frankly very irritating.” And I slept so well.
I make it a goal every single season to control my temper. To do five burpees or do a sprint or whatever and just get over it, no more thinking or talking about whatever it was that caused the anger. Obviously, that is once again my goal this season, so we’ll see how I do.
On the one hand, it’s that fire and it’s that constant obsession with getting better, being the best player I can be, and proving myself — to others and to me — that shaped me into the competitor that I am today. But I’m aware that it’s that same fire that pushes me over the edge sometimes. And here it is — you knew it was coming — the inevitable, terrible, cheesy fire double entendre: I’d like to figure out a way to keep that fire without getting burned, y’know? (Boom.)
I’ll tell you how this all shakes out, and whether my blood pressure benefits because of it.
Anyway, on a much lighter note, a bunch of things have been rolling around up in the old noggin since I’ve been away. Thought I’d share, since I know you all love them so much.
- I’m an outgoing person trapped in a shy person’s body. Like, I have so many things I want to learn about people and talk to them about, but I’m so socially awkward and shy that I don’t know how to approach people or strike up conversations. Like, I am one of those people who is so bad at starting conversations with strangers I want to talk to that I awkwardly start them by saying something like, “Not to be creepy but…”, thereby making everything I say super creepy. *foghorn*
- Also, if someone I like/someone I’m unfamiliar with/a complete stranger says something that I don’t quite catch, instead of saying “Pardon?” I just get really nervous and laugh and say, “Oh, you too!” Of course, about 98% of the time that response doesn’t even apply. I mean, what? Who does that? *foghorn*
- It wasn’t just me, right? Everyone else thought the NBA Draft sucked? Alright, good. The only redeeming bit was that the Bulls didn’t select Kyle Singler. But don’t worry, Josh McRoberts. I *still* hate you most of all! You make Kyle Singler look good, honestly, you big doucher.
- Since I linked that video, did y’all see my boy Stacey King on ESPN after LeBoohoo and his boys lost in the Finals? Love that guy. I can’t wait until the season starts up again (fangers crossed) so I can listen to him and the dude Funk. They should have Scottie with them full-time, plus throw in my first white boy crush, Steve Kerr. *dreamy sigh*
- Also, was I the only doucher who was all, “Jon Diebler? Really?” How did rat face get drafted before David Lighty? I guess Portland wanted the poor man’s hideous, gross version of Kyle Korver.
- I hooped for the first time in years last weekend and let me tell you, it was evident that I am a. old, b. rusty, and c. terrible at basketball. It took a few airballs before I was hitting shots. I played in two pickup games and I want to say that I was shooting like 40%, so better than both teams who made the finals of the NCAA Men’s Tournament. Of course, that was the only thing I could do back in the day. Shoot, rebound, and play D. I couldn’t handle for shit. I had one “move” with the ball in my hands, and that was the Tim Hardaway-crossover. After aging and weight gain, now it’s more of a leisurely side-shuffle. My team won both games though. It’s been years so I gotta brag a little! Three coolest things done all weekend: Big one-handed rebound over a taller dude (cause I’m mad good at boxing out), three from my sweet spot with a hand in my face, and a drive into the paint from the right elbow, crossover out of the paint, start driving in for what appears to be a right-handed layup, and then went down the baseline instead for a reverse. ‘Sup. (Note: Immediately afterwards, I got posted up three straight times and also clanked a few j’s from the top of the key. Conservation of greatness, y’all.)
- People hate playing pickup with me cause I like to pull up for jumpers and yell “That’s wet!” as I release, especially if I know I’m going to miss. Welp. People also hate playing pickup with me cause I conveniently forget that I have no handle whatsoever and I try to do crazy stuff with the ball, like no-looks and threading passes through defenders (read: instant turnovers). Womp womp.
- I think I’d have a job by now if I didn’t spend so much time watching basketball clips and videos online. I tape games and then rewatch them later and pick ’em apart, telling people that I’m “watching film”. The two players I’ve recently become obsessed with watching “film” of have been Courtney Vandersloot and Tristan Thompson. I didn’t know about either before the beginning of the most recent college season, and both of them just captivated me, The Sloot especially. I’m hopefully gonna get a few chances to see Sloot There It Is play in person this summer, and I’m really excited about what Tristan is gonna do with the Cavs. I really enjoyed watching him play in college, but I’m going to need him to a. develop a better face-up game, b. get stronger, and c. IMPROVE HIS FREE THROW PERCENTAGE. Almost nothing bothers me more than missed free throws. Why leave points on the table like that?
- I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving Paul Konerko. Ever.
- You guys, old people stay SHOUTING on their phones. I mean, they have normal, hearing-safe speaking voices, but just choose not to use them for the purpose of telephone conversations. I mean, fair enough.
- I’m beginning to think that about half of Alaska voted Sarah Palin for governor as a totally hilarious joke, and then she was accidentally elected, exposing the entire world to her utter hilarity. Which: 1. Great tactic and 2. I’m actually not mad about being exposed to one of the most hilarious people in the whole entire universe.
- Speaking of my wolverine hunting, motorcycle riding, Russia viewing trip with my buddy Sarah Palin, I spent a few days in Seattle and had a grand old time. Other than the weather, I thought it was such a dope city. I’d love to live there or at least spend a little more time there exploring one day.
- I went ziplining in Alaska and one of the guides was an ultimate player. He was running to check gear and asked for a leading backhand up the ramp. I obliged (and for possibly the first time in my whole entire life, hit a moving target in stride). He turned around and threw me a flick. It made me giddy. (And now I can say that I’ve thrown in the state of Alaska.)
- I saw mad wild animals! Black and brown bears, tons of bald eagles, puffins, mad whales, seals, mountain goats. No otters though. I only saw captive ones. They were still adorable.
- Speaking of adorable, I made a new friend on the cruise. He’s three years old and possibly the cutest child I’ve ever seen in my whole entire life. *sigh* Miss my buddy Cody.
- Do I have a sign on my forehead that says, “Come hit on me, douchebags. I’ll totally dig it”? I swear, no one remotely cute ever tries to talk to me at the gym. The worst.
- Y’all, speaking of the gym, I understand that people shower and change at the gym. That’s normal. But yo, why do the most unfortunate naked gym incidents involve me? Like the other day, I walked into the locker room and the first thing that greeted my eyeballs was an old naked lady walking out of the shower dripping wet with nothing but her cot dang walker. Just… why?
- Bicyclists and motorcyclists trip so hard sometimes. Y’all take up the least space on the road, yet you demand the most of it. I was driving down a narrow street two-way street yesterday, and this motorcyclist coming from the opposite direction was all up in my lane. He then gave me a dirty look as he drove by. Like, what? You weren’t even on the right side of the road, doucher. Not all bikers/motorcyclists are the worst, mind you, but unforch the bad apples always spoil the bunch for us drivers. And seriously? You can’t switch back and forth from being a pedestrian and a vehicle. You can’t be both. Hate bikers who try to weave through traffic or skip red lights even though there are cars coming.
- Speaking of road annoyances, the transitive property doesn’t apply to stop signs, y’all. Just cause the person in front of you stopped, DOESN’T mean that you also stopped.
- Whoever handles Katy Perry and her bidness is doing a great job (maybe with the exception of those unintentionally hilarious ProActiv commercials). Good call on putting out “Last Friday Night” when they did. Great song for the summer, just like “California Gurls” last year. Sometimes you don’t have to write/record a great song, you just have to know when to release it. Like that Black Eyed Peas song, “I Gotta Feeling”. That song goes on for about two minutes too long and only has about ten words in the song total, but they released it just before summer (if I recall correctly), and it totally blew up.
- While we’re talking about radio play: Y’all know Adele has songs other than “Rolling in the Deep”, right? Cause if I hear that song on the radio one more cot dang time, I’m going to punch a baby in its face *Sarah voice*.
- So the babybro and I were talking about Britney Spears and how totally weird it is that she’s still making (suggestive) music. Like, she was cool when we were 12. So to us, she’s been around forever, but is she even 30 yet? Like, how do her kids feel about the fact that she’s still making music and music videos like that? I wonder if their classmates are like “You guys have a hot mom.” I bet it’s embarrassing. And I bet she still has to do stuff like this to support her kids cause y’all know Kevin Federline isn’t paying child support.
- This is embarrassing, but I kind of dig that Iyaz song, but only the Chicago version. Mostly cause I already know I picked the rightest, prettiest girl in this city: Allison! Love her.
- Lastly, do any of y’all use Google Chrome? Do y’all like it?
