As I sit here on a Sunday afternoon, I realized I have a confession to make…
Remember all of our formative years, in that scary place we all came to know and love, grade school, everyone was always so cliquey, and we tended to fall right where we belonged. The Jocks were with the jocks, the band kids much the same, and the artsy kids tended to hang out in tiny groups where Monet was more important than Madonna, But I always existed in a sort of limbo.
An art fanatic, who’s one true passion was basketball.
Although I never played past eighth grade, the thrill of the court left a lasting impression on my life. I was the one who idolized people such as Lebron James (pre-jersey burning) but still kept in touch with his creative bearing. With this divide, I had become eclectic being that strives to find this happy medium.
Basketball truly has taught me valuable lessons on how to treat other people, and the lust of competitions sweet trophy-laden honor, to help me become the person I am today.
If watching basketball is a crime, count me as acquitted.
So as i sit here on a Sunday evening, watching the playoffs, i ask you this; what is your guilty pleasure?