In order for any of this blog to make sense, I must first delve into my early years and what must have went horribly wrong to drive me to where I am today; that of course being me sitting here in the library of the Junior College I attend using their computer lab to start this blog because my Sony Vaio laptop now ceases to work after an unfortunate…..I’m already getting ahead of myself. I digress from that story, which will be told at another time and place, and move onto my origin story. I used to think that my origin story would end up like most hero’s, and my comic book fan boys know EXACTLY what i’m talking about! I figured all the adversity I had dealt with throughout my childhood would culminate in one glorious and triumphant event that would catapult me into greatness and folklore. This however would not be the case, but in fact a cruel joke played on me providing false hopes of what would never come to fruition.
From as early as I can remember I loved sports, and not what millennial’s now-a-days consider love, I mean I would do anything to play, partake, and excel at the sports I loved. Of course for most kids growing up this meant getting good grades and cleaning your room, AKA KEEP YOUR PARENTS HAPPY, so good grades and a spotless room it was Allow me to clarify now that this whole “clean room” business meant it just had to LOOK clean. So sometimes a few clean clothes got thrown into the dirty clothes hamper if I knew I wasn’t going to be wearing that item anytime soon, or instead of fully tucking in the sheets (that were under an enormously over sized comforter) one would simply just throw the sides of the sheets under the comforter and then space out numerous, and I mean numerous, stuffed animals across the bed (thus hiding any sign of the not fully made bed). It wasn’t a crime so SUE ME! Anyways, I pulled straight A’s throughout elementary school excuse me, straight 4’s; for some reason giving a kid a 4 instead of an A or giving a kid a 2 instead of a D or C is somehow magically better and more effective in getting the message across to the kid that they suck, or are amazing, in the classroom. In all honesty I don’t know why this is the case in some places, and I honestly don’t care enough to waste any more time thinking about why a 4 is better than an A, or how it impacts students. That discussion is about as pointless as a Rae Sremmurd music video. Anyway, maintaining these grades at times required me to get up early before school or stay up late after practices to finish homework and study for tests. While most kids would stay up late or get up early to watch some show they were not allowed to watch if Mom and Pops were awake, I was nerding it up in my room learning my multiplication tables and when Columbus sailed the ocean blue; 1492? So as I said, keeping my parents happy throughout my childhood was the goal and I just so happened to be a phenomenal student, friend, and athlete. In short, #missionaccomplished! My parents let me do and play whatever I wanted okay so maybe I wasn’t allowed to do whatever I wanted, but anything I desired in terms of athletics was at my disposal.
I was always one of the better athletes and players on my City League teams for basketball, football, and baseball. Now some of you might be thinking, “You just said the same thing in that last sentence Alex! The best players are always the best athletes!” Well let me be the first to tell you how wrong you really are….later on when I get to a few of the guys I played with in high school. You wont ever jump to that conclusion again, I PROMISE. Regardless of my experiences, you do have a slight point, and in this case you’d be right go ahead and pat yourself on the back you egocentric, stuffy headed Nerf-hearder. When playing against kids my own age I was just flat out better, I understood the game better, I reacted faster, I was more aggressive; in all honesty it really wasn’t fair to any of them. I wasn’t bigger than them or necessarily faster, I just wanted it more. I spent more time working on my game then all of those little snot buckets had spent watching Hey Arnold! that week. This unheralded and never before seen dominance of youth city league sports in Lodi, California thus lead to an enormous false sense of security developing about what my future would hold. It’s origin could be traced back to a single moral that had been instilled in me by my loving parents and family that I honestly believed would propel me toward my future NBA, NFL, and MLB career (Yes, I wanted to do all 3).
Moral #1. You can be anything you want to be when you grow up, as long as you work hard!
Now some of you are reading this and are thinking, “Alex, Seriously? All 3 Major Sports? That isn’t realistic.” Hmm, no shit Sherlock Holmes! You want a damn cookie for pointing that out captain obvious? But you didn’t know me, you can’t sit there behind your computer screen and judge my goals and dreams. If Bo Jackson could pull it off why not me?
Note: If you’re thinking to yourself, “because you’re white” all I have to say to you is *insert clapping emoji to symbolize applause for such a great and original joke*, you racist.
You also did not see me play as a youngster. On our flag football team I played nearly every position and excelled at it. I knew every players responsibility on any play so no kid would back talk me and be like, “You think you can do it better?” Even they knew the answer would be yes, and that I’d prove it as well. That went for any sport. I could literally play every position from age 5 to around age 12 I could of very easily played any position once I got into high school but the coaches put me where THEY thought I best served the team, big mistake; but we will get there. In a flag football game when I was 7, I scored 5 TD’s in a single game. All 5 were scored on pass plays while I was playing QB; I noticed the other team turned around to cover my receivers so I just casually strolled into the end-zone all 5 times. That is some field awareness right there. In basketball I was the leading scorer and best defender on most of my teams. A majority of my points were scored by creating turnovers and getting layups in transition, as well as off my nasty AI style crossover (that is no joke I was given the nickname Lil Iverson at basketball camps because my crossover was that nasty and explosive). In 5th Grade CYO Trinity, while playing for St. Anne’s, I averaged 20 point per game. Even in baseball I was a well-rounded hitter and played any and every position on the field. The hard work was paying off, and I was spending every bit of free time developing and honing my game. During all this record setting and utter dominance of any and every league I played in, I was repeatedly told the 2nd moral that would come to define my personality and lead to an even greater false sense of security.
Moral #2: Good things happen to people who work hard and do things the right way.
So you now mean to tell me that by working hard I can be anything I want, AND that I’ll be halfway to good things happening for me?!!! So the obvious next step was doing things the right way. But there is a lot more to this then the simple phrase infers. This didn’t just mean studying and actually “cleaning my room” but also being a good brother, friend, teammate, leader, not swearing, not cheating in school, not breaking girls hearts, no spitballs, no wedgies or swirlies or purple nurples or wet willies or ear wiggies or Indian rug burns or noogies or flat tires….. Okay so realistically I was a kid so a lot of these were not always followed, especially the pranks; but I did make an honest attempt to only use them on my younger brother, and sister if she decided she was gonna try and act like the older sibling and make me look bad I don’t think so sis. But the underlying meaning behind this moral was being selfless and to do things for others and not for oneself; another word for this is altruistic. This was easy for me because the way I saw it my success would come from the teams success. The equation looked as such: My Goals = Play Well For My Team + Any Team I Play For Has Success x Hard Work.
I thought this equation would lead to achieving all my goals…. and seeing as that couldn’t be any further from the truth, I now call it the Law of False Security (Patent Pending). Any kid, parent, or coach using this equation to motivate your son or daughter is not only a LIAR but a dream killer as well.
*Note* MY parents, luckily for me, were not dream killers because you will come to see what I would later be told and would begin to see for myself.They are however a bunch of no good dirty rotten liars.
There is a lot more that goes into being a Pro Sports Athlete, but I was convinced that I had the foundation laid out for that future. I believed all roads would lead to the hall of fame, championships, and a Scrooge McDuck style vault of gold I could swim in. Much to my surprise, this wouldn’t be the case.
Till next time internet…..
The Irrelevant Journey 