The older and older I get, the more and more I tend to think about my high school basketball team. Sometimes, if I think hard enough, I can still smell the gym and hear the creaks and moans of the tan floorboards under my Nike Shox. I can hear the “THUD” of the four green doors that led to the hallways of my school. I can still feel the butterflies in the pit of my stomach that I would have every time I got into the lay-up line when we had to face off against our town rival (Plainfield South).
They don’t tell you enough...
