Shots From The Darkside

I attended a memorial day party sunday night. It was  group of young sophisticates. the group throwing the party was essentially a group of my closest frat brothers and friends from college. The have some acronym for a name which, to me, seems a bit above their level. they just havent attained acronym status, yet. these are guys i passed out with, pass blunts with, passed girls with. its hard - even at the beginning of the 12th year of our friendship - to take them seriously. i bought my ticket, and believe you me, i was pissed to pay for a function run by people i used to run with. i even considered taking a date. no, not my wife, and not because she wouldnt want to go. she’s never been a part of the secret world. to her Frats and secret societies are stupid. she doesnt get the fraternities and the masons and all the hubbub in a ’supposedly’ secret handshake. i tried explaining to her that this was a function run BY the organization not FOR organization members. so i considered taking a date other than she - which got me silence for all my troubles. i didnt like the way she was smiling…

so i went alone

and ran into some old buddies. like my close friend Ray Green, formally of the Miami Dolphins, formerly of the NY Giants. He was also formerly of Burke High School in Charleston, SC. He was a WR/DB. I was a LB at a school 3 miles up the street. When we became buddies at THE University of South Carolina in late 1997, he refused to admit that i’d planted him in turf. such began our friendship, which continues today if my myspace page is any indication. Ray was the first football player to beat me in chess. He developed or fostered a sideways method of thinking. Tactically, he was unstoppable. Ray knew every form, every set up. When i got tired of losing to him, i began to think strategically. for those who miss the difference, tactics involve maneuvering. strategy involves tactics. stepping away from the table, i realized Ray knew 1001 ways to attack… and that was it. Luring him to traps was easy. time after time i used his greatest asset against him: Ray was Safety and safeties are taught to attack.  A smart safety may not bite on the play action - but the tendency is there. Well trained cats often scratch, the nicest dogs often bite, and even caged birds flap their wings in imitation of flight. the key was getting Ray to bite.

Next i ran into Carlos Powell - a USC basketball player. He attended USC much later than i did. But he and his twin worked at the local Gamecock Bi-Lo. they were good kids. Kinda lazy, though. Carlos is playing basketball for some foreign team - he was this year’s League MVP. i’m quite sure he forgot my name 10 minutes after the party ended, but we had a good conversation nonetheless. I asked him about the Euro player habit of flopping. I referenced Manu Flop-nobili and Dirk Flop-witzky. He rolled his eyes to the ceiling; took a breath and threw back his tequila. ‘I KNOW. its to the point now that i just pull up and knock down the 10 footer. these guys are too busy setting up to fake the charge to even come out and guard me. they play NO defense.‘ Nearly an exact quote from the mouths of Babes.

I think i saw Duce Staley. but he’s gotten too citified for us here in Columbia. He normally just comes back around to promote his newest collection of Rims.

There were a couple of other pro and semi- athletes there, i just cant remember their names. it was dark. the food and liquor were free and i had to get on the floor and remind everyone why i was considered the craziest cat on campus. i woke up yesterday feeling like a fat chick had sat on my head… which isnt too far from what mighta - coulda had happened if things had gone differently. or if my wife hadnt smiled at me when she was supposed be arguing.

I was impressed that so many white people came to the party. though we’ve never been a black-only group - we always had trouble recruiting white guys. back in college we did our best to expand beyond the South’s racial divides. but in my 4 years there, only one white guy ever showed up to an interest meeting. i wonder why that is? usually though, the white men and women who do show up are beyond cool. they were out there on the dance floor leading party hops and steps completely dispelling the stereotype that whites cant dance. i know MANY blacks who cant dance and a decent amount of Hispanics who can only dance salsa or meringue… and thats only because no one here stateside knows the actual steps. we dont know if theyre actually doing a rumba or not.

Yesterday we BBQ’d and shot pool. my homeboy got a 10 foot table for his den for around $700. i was thinking we could buy about 12 tables, rent a bar out and run a pool hall. or maybe that was the liquor talking. BTW, i am an 8-Ball God. 9-Ball not so much. we even played a bit of 4-Ball, which is a ghetto rip off of 9-Ball. that went for 5 dollrs a rack… 4-Ball is to 9-Ball as Tonk and Pit-Pat are to Gin Rummy… or Spades is to Hearts. ok, i’m sure you get it.

i made sure to finish my last drink before midnight and awoke this morning hang-over free.  this is how we do it…

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