December 31, 1985
The folks were going out somewhere on New Year's Eve. I don't remember where it was. My brother Tim and I were getting bored. It was mid-afternoon, and we took our restless asses and a basketball to a nearby court. There, some guys in their late teens were shooting hoops, and asked us if we wanted to join them. I was pretty much against it; as despite having no nerves, I had no ball handling skills. I had a hell of a nice jump shot, but that was only if it was unimpeded and since I had no ups, the odds of it getting blocked were pretty damn good. But Tim, competitive as his ass was, wanted in. I guess I could just be a passer in the round and get it to a shooter, and I'd be good.
One of these guys on the other team in our little pick-up game looked like a redneck Channing Tatum with a meth issue. He came complete, muscular and shirtless with cut off shorts and a buzz cut. He also had a bad habit of saying "It's in your booty" anytime he scored. Those who know me, know that I have absolutely no fucking patience for that kind of repeated verbal ridiculousness. So, as the game wore on, and the "booties" were piling up, I pulled Tim aside and told him I didn't know how much more I could take of the guy.
That's when Tim started making it rain.
Tim was not a tall guy, but he was quick. He got open, took my passes and began splashing shots from all over the court. He began to glove booty-man on defense to the point where he wasn't saying that stupid phrase anymore. Eventually, the sun gave us a tap on the shoulder and let us know that it was time to go home. The unknown teammates and counterparts said goodnights and happy new year as we headed off.
Except for the "King of putting stuff in your booty". He seemed less than happy, as he gazed at his shoes while we left.
Tim and I got back to the townhouse, called for a Domino's, drank Miller High Life, and watched movies until the New Year rang in. I believe Bruce Lee was sidekicking Bob Wall into a group of seated onlookers as the clock struck twelve. It wasn't a bad New Year's Eve, as Waco, Texas was not exactly the high point of my youth, but it could have been worse.
It was actually pretty damn good. My brother is no longer with us, and times between He and I were always inconsistent, but the dawning of 1986 was actually a pretty damn good day with him.
Happy New Year, Tim.
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