Day: June 6, 2010

The waves of heat rising from the near liquefied asphalt blurred perception of the 3 basketball courts beyond the one we were on in a flat parking lot of Stonehill College. It was circa 1975, and somehow my single-Mom financed not one, but two weeks at the Sam Jones – John Killilea Basketball Camp. Now for any Celtics fan of a certain vintage, Sam Jones has name recognition. His shooting clinic was just that, a clinic. The man started by sitting on the floor directly under a basket and arched a shot up and in. He proceeded to bush himself back about three feet at a time and still sitting, rained down shot after shot until the last one from the top of the key! Then he stood up and really started shooting. He also took about 8 of us “2-weekers” to Burger King on the Saturday night between weeks. Yep, Sam is the man, but as his teammate, Bill Russell once said, “Defense wins championships,” and John Killilea was a defensive genius who earned two NBA championship rings as an assistant coach with the Celtics.

The 30 or so teenagers were already hot when Coach Killilea took five minutes to teach us the proper defensive position. Legs spread a little more than shoulder-width, knees bent so your thighs are parallel with the hot surface below and with arms extended out to the sides and heads up. Simple right? Why don’t you try it right now? The coach went on to talk to us about defense. For the next 45 minutes of the clinic. He’d occasionally have us shuffle side to side, up or back, but for the most part, we were expected to assume the position and stay in it while feet, thighs and backs burned. Coach raged at anyone that let their ass defy gravity, “What are you doing? You look like you’re trying to shit against a wall! Get your ass down!” Kids were crying. A couple gave up and at least one I recall collapsed (he was OK). With about 5 minutes left in the clinic, Coach Killilea let us stand up and relax, but he kept talking. I’ll never forget what I learned in that clinic. He talked about how everyone wants to be the hero and score baskets, but not everyone wants to put that same effort into defense.

Finally, pointing at his chest, he said, “What you did today takes heart. This is what defense is about. It’s about heart. It’s about who wants it.” Then he walked away.

Tonight we’ll find out about the heart of this Celtics team.

As a single mom of a 2 year old, a 4 year degree was a long road to self-sufficiency, so last summer Megan took it upon herself to enroll in cosmetology school. Every day she got up early to prepare twin blondes, dropped one at day-care and then commuted 40 minutes to school. By early this year, she passed her boards, floated a new resume and landed a gig at Jathar, an upscale salon in Waltham. There was a period between finishing school and getting the job where she did… well, I’m not really sure what she did, but that’s not important right now…

I know my girl was nervous about telling me her plan last year. She knows I’m an education snob and she thought I’d be disappointed that she wasn’t pursuing a more, I don’t know, academic curriculum. I wasn’t. She has a little blond priority and her decision was based on that and I believe a real passion for the work. At the time I remember identifying her intelligence, personality and creativity as attributes that would take her far in whatever vocation she chose. The fact she’s gorgeous and a very hard worker aren’t hurting either…

This weekend there were graduations in the area. On Friday night, Kyle attended his high schools event to watch some of his classmates graduate, and yesterday, Joyce wrestled 18 years of memories while watching her son Nick hobble (soccer injury) across his stage wearing the badge of the National Honor Society. These events reminded this absent minded dad that I’d done nothing to note the achievement of my own daughter. I needed a plan.

Megan had made a few noises about an iPad, so yesterday Kyle, “Babycakes” and I… Wait, let me clarify… At some point yesterday, I called Maddy “baby cakes,” which caused her to giggle like a pre-school girl and then refuse to answer to any other name… “No, Papa. I’m baby cakes!” OK then. Anyway, the big 3 took small bites of back roads to a mall in NH till we reached the core of the Apple… store. I wonder if Apple keeps numbers on how many potential iPad customers end up buying MacBooks because, um, THEY DON’T HAVE ANY FREAKIN IPADS!

Sure, Megan can use the laptop and it actually wasn’t much more than an iPad, but I really only needed it as a communication device for my plot. While Megan told Joyce the wonderful news about her accelerating career opportunities, I sent Megan an email she could open once she opened the Mac. Megan was already gushing about how it was the best day of her life (as a PITA dad, I had to remind her of Maddy’s birthday…), when I said, “See if your email works.”  “Oh my god. Oh my god… What is this? OH MY GOD!!! I got Lady Gaga tickets!!!”

Reading Facebook this morning, I think Megan slept with her computer… She must love it.

Megan: “ Unreal. It’s been over a month & we can’t cap this? We can split atoms & land on the moon but we can’t cap an oil spill? Late night research. Must go to sleep.”
Stacy : “get a life aside from the laptizzzzop, i know your excited buuuut NERD alert 🙂 🙂 its 3am”
Megan: “Lol I love this thing I can’t get off of it!”