Overtime
"Bad pass," he mumbles.
"Aw man, what are you doing?"
"Oh my gosh, come on Rubio!"
"Pass it to him, Mitchell, pass it to him!"
"Tons of time..."
I'm visiting home and listening to Dad as he's in his own world watching the game. It's a sound that is just familiar as the front door I walk through. Tonight it's Jazz vs. Spurs. Living here in Utah, we're definitely a Jazz family. Have been for years.
He scratches his head excitedly. The energy exuding from his fingertips.
He's standing now. Fist pump, "Yes!" The game is tied.
He walks back and forth between the TV and the kitchen, Ove Glove secured on right hand, as he checks the pizza and comes back in the room to check the game score.
My sister funky dances into the room and stands between me and the TV (which is fine because I'm only half watching). I can see the bright uniforms zipping around in high contrast behind her as she excitedly talks to me with her hands. She leaves the room briefly.
Arms crossed, Dad rocks back and forth on his heels, still standing.
Breath forced out. He sits on the couch. 17 seconds left as the Jazz drop a deep three. "He traveled! He traveled! He can't walk across there! He traveled!" 1 point game, Jazz are down, 15 seconds to go.
My sister reappears out of nowhere with three dresses on hangers. My attention goes back and forth between the dresses and the TV.
"That was a classic Ginobili flop... Flop master..." Time out, Quin Snyder.
My sister comes back in and sits with a plate fully of hot cheesy bread and continues telling me about her week of networking. I multi-task and listen to her talk about a possible date she's been set up on after a golf event at work and Mom appears, teasingly asking if he's called yet.
Even my heart picked up a few paces as, I see in the background, the clock drops to 10 seconds, we're down three. I watch as Mitchell rattles in a three-point shot to tie the game! I involuntarily interrupt my sister's story with a squeal.
"That was amazing," Dad says laughing.
We're going into overtime, but now we're also all sitting here going into overtime together. Win or lose.
"Aw man, what are you doing?"
"Oh my gosh, come on Rubio!"
"Pass it to him, Mitchell, pass it to him!"
"Tons of time..."
I'm visiting home and listening to Dad as he's in his own world watching the game. It's a sound that is just familiar as the front door I walk through. Tonight it's Jazz vs. Spurs. Living here in Utah, we're definitely a Jazz family. Have been for years.
He scratches his head excitedly. The energy exuding from his fingertips.
He's standing now. Fist pump, "Yes!" The game is tied.
He walks back and forth between the TV and the kitchen, Ove Glove secured on right hand, as he checks the pizza and comes back in the room to check the game score.
My sister funky dances into the room and stands between me and the TV (which is fine because I'm only half watching). I can see the bright uniforms zipping around in high contrast behind her as she excitedly talks to me with her hands. She leaves the room briefly.
Arms crossed, Dad rocks back and forth on his heels, still standing.
Breath forced out. He sits on the couch. 17 seconds left as the Jazz drop a deep three. "He traveled! He traveled! He can't walk across there! He traveled!" 1 point game, Jazz are down, 15 seconds to go.
My sister reappears out of nowhere with three dresses on hangers. My attention goes back and forth between the dresses and the TV.
"That was a classic Ginobili flop... Flop master..." Time out, Quin Snyder.
My sister comes back in and sits with a plate fully of hot cheesy bread and continues telling me about her week of networking. I multi-task and listen to her talk about a possible date she's been set up on after a golf event at work and Mom appears, teasingly asking if he's called yet.
Even my heart picked up a few paces as, I see in the background, the clock drops to 10 seconds, we're down three. I watch as Mitchell rattles in a three-point shot to tie the game! I involuntarily interrupt my sister's story with a squeal.
"That was amazing," Dad says laughing.
We're going into overtime, but now we're also all sitting here going into overtime together. Win or lose.
Ahh! Such fun to enjoy the game as a family. We enjoyed the Cavs in person last night. Basketball is such an exciting sport. I love how you shared all the goings on in the moment while adding details of the game. It’s difficult to write with such layering-you did it well!
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