Of course on the day I forget to brush my teeth, wear sloppy clothes and throw my hair into a pitiful ponytail, I choose to chat up a professional basketball player. I was just running out for diapers!
At the local Target this morning, I recognize someone I had classes with in college. Remembering that he got drafted into the NBA, I was surprised to see him here. At Target. Of course, I should go and talk to him. Obviously, completely forgetting my wrecked state.
As I ask his name and talk about why he might be in the area, my boy is running snot from nose to lip and my girl is coughing and and sniffling. A perfect picture of rural family right? Hardly matches the glamorous world of what might be the NBA. And one might wonder why a player would choose to live near our town on, what I can only imagine is, a 6-figure income. Incredibly down-to-earth and choosing to live the summers in his home town of Enumclaw, Brian Scalabrine unknowingly created a new basketball fan. Even though I needed him to tell me that he plays for one of the better teams in the league, the Boston Celtics. (player info) But I never claimed to follow basketball anyway.
I get surprisingly nervous and giddy at the idea of a major player, or well-known talent. Whether it be Mr. Scalabrine or the recent meeting of several WSOP poker professionals. These people are nothing to me in a personal sense and it shouldn't be anything nerve-wracking to meet them, especially considering the fact that I walk up to them, and not the other way around.
As I check-out and pay for my items, he and his wife are in line behind me and I further flub through my transaction. I couldn't resist asking for an autograph, just in case. He graciously scrawled: "Go T-Birds". Initially I had zero idea what that meant, but a friend reminded me it was our college mascot. Oops. Obviously, I wasn't one for Community College basketball either.
Reflecting on the whole thing, I wish I would have looked a little more "on my game", but I appreciate knowing that I'm not bound by my looks, or my seemingly immature reaction to big names. I apparently have a strong inner confidence that speaks up without me giving it a second thought. I'll take it.
As for the giddy, girlishness of being star-struck? All I can say is, well, who would these guys be without the fans?
He wasn't on his game either. He was missing his jersey....however you were on yours! Kids, wrecked and in Target, that is the game of being a mom! I am sure he was thinking of ways to get you to sign something:-)
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