End of the fourth quarter. Twenty-six point four seconds on the clock. Heat up by three and Bulls are about to inbound the ball. Chicago has no more time-outs.
Robinson brought it up. Held my breath as Nate took his first three-point shot. Rims out. Booz got the rebound. Passed to Rip. To Noah. Back to Rip. RIp to Nate, who passed out to Butler. No one’s covering Butler! Clock winding down to 5, 4, 3… Shoy. Misses. Zero. Game over.
Been holding off on writing about basketball with the hopes that my last line would be: “And the Bulls beat the Nets in the first round of the NBA Playoffs in five games!” Didn’t happen. “In Six Games!” So close… Bulls lost by three. Saturday is Game Seven. Hoping the exhausted Bulls can fuel up and get back in the game and close up this extremely well-played series!
Thought hard about why I wanted to wait for a win before I wrote it down. I guess as much as I plug the journey, the climb, the processes in life, I can’t help, like many of us, to notice the score. At the end of a game.
The Glen Cove Hospital puts together an employee team for an annual basketball game against the Grenville Baker Boys and Girls’ Club Staff. I don’t technically work for the hospital, but I get to jump in for a few minutes here and there as the “girl” on the team. This marks the tenth year, I believe, we’ve played each other and right now, the Hospital team has only won twice. One year, the Hospital beat the club with a buzzer beater shot from the half, pushing us just one point ahead.
The following year, after three over times, the Club came back to settle the score and beat the Docs and company. Two years ago, we (the medical peeps) got an on-court whoopin’! We came to play, but the Club showed up. And showed us they weren’t afraid to rock it out to keep their title.
And last year, it got brutal, but the Club took the win. In the final quarter, a scuffle for the ball under the basket lead to an elbow to the face of Marc Bilbry, the Associate Director of the club. There was blood. On the court. And Marc headed to the hospital for stitches. Of course the joke in the stands was, “Is there a doctor in the house?” Well, sure, but no one carries a doctor kit around anymore. I think. Continue reading →
Tummies full of Ethiopian yummies, iPhone fully charged, Hubs and I head out of the restaurant Awash with one goal. Each. Hubs wants to get to Barclay’s early to watch the Bulls warm up. I want dessert.
Cuz what’s a birthday without cake. But I want something better. Rice pudding. But not just any rice pudding. The delicious, out of this world, original concoctions of Rice to Riches, the best (besides my mom’s) rice pudding on earth. Or at least in New York City.
It’s only 4:30PM and the game doesn’t start till 7:00PM so I feel like we have a lot to time to make a pit stop.
“I want to be at the stadium by 5:00PM.” Hubs has a schedule.
“Look! Rice to Riches is on the same train line. It’s perfect.” I’m thrilled. Hubs rolls his eyes. Continue reading →
Trying to capture the swan in the Central Park pond.
Left Alice’s Tea Cup, tummy full of tea and sparkles in my hair. Off to Central park we go, to walk off pumpkin pancake calories and to share one spot in New York City we still get lost in. And for that reason, we actually walk down the west side of Central Park for some time, from 74th to 103rd, just chatting about life, kids, this and that. The sun is shining and my hand is tucked through Hub’s arm, in his sweatshirt pocket. Love this time we can just stroll arm in arm without a care in the world. No where to rush to. No one to answer to.
Until nature calls. All that tea… It was inevitable. So we venture into the park in search of a public bathroom. The closest one is behind the tennis courts and as Hubs heads toward the men’s room, he says, “Five minutes. You have five minutes to write your next blog.” Continue reading →
Basketball Battles are on the upswing now that more and more games are being nationally televised. While some run red lights to catch the opening minutes of Downtown Abby, those of us without the DVR feature on their cable box, that is, the Paulus crew rushes home to take the stands. Court-side couch seats never felt so cozy.
Best part, none of our Knicks fan neighbors can throw tomatoes or dirty looks at us when the Bulls hit a buzzer beater three and we’re doing a Benny the Bull jiggy on our living room dance floor.
Creeeeek! [That’s the sound of brakes on my fingertaps.] It’s 9:09! There’s something I’m forgetting. FLU Shot appointment at 9:00 AM. That was nine minutes ago! Siri!! Why you gotta play me like that? Ring! Beep! Something!
Tell me, “Stop typing, Hot Mama, because it will take you exactly three minutes and twenty-two seconds to drive to your doctor’s office. Then leave an extra forty-seven seconds to park and walk in the door and sign in. Yes. You will be late.”
WhenBethany JettofThe Cinderella Ruleasked me to participate in a Blog Hop, my only hesitation was if it involved a public display of jumping. Because I can jump. Your basic lifting of both feet off the floor, but if you knew the history behind my long-jumping track days, let’s just say, you wouldn’t want me on your team. Yeah. Not a good memory.
I met the gorgeous Bethany Jett in Chicago during a MacGregor Literary weekend and because she was wearing purple, I knew we would be friends!
It helped that we both love teens and have a heart for teen girls and their journey through some of life’s toughest years. Bethany’s soon to be released book gives girls a map to navigate the crazy world of young love. And all things dating. And I’m all about Young Adults and healthy relationships so when she asked me to Hop on…
I said yes! And so below, you’ll find my answers to the questions each of the authors has answered or will answer as the hop keeps happening. So swing back those arms, bend your knees, and take a leap into a sneak-peek of my writing world. And make sure to hop on over to the other writer pages and discover some stellar story tellers!
“You’re on the edge…of glory” played as we walked out of Aunt Chilada’s on Hilton Head Island, South Carolina. Having just watched the Bulls lose to the Sixers by one point. Marking the end of their 2011-2012 season, the year Chicago was predicted by so many to fight Miami for the Eastern Conference Championship. And some went so far as to call them the future NBA champs of this season marked with more injuries than I can ever recall in any given period. Continue reading →
I’m no sports announcer, but I love to scream. Especially at a basketball game. I’m loud when the Bull’s play, but even louder when my girls are running the floor. I coach so I can scream. As hubby’s assistant coach this year, he has actually banned me to the bleachers during the games. He says I scream too loudly, making it impossible for him to think. And I thought I was easily distracted.
Married or not, if you’re an Asian living in New York, you know you have a crush on our boy Jeremy Lin. I mean come on, when’s the last time you saw the definition of arms like that on an Asian man. Every Asian guy out there is doing push-ups right now, now that they know they have competition. Continue reading →
I didn’t know I loved basketball. Until one day in fifth grade, two semi-coordinated students were chosen to train with the middle school team in my hometown of Windsor, Ontario. My best friend J. and I were those two students. Neither of us knew how to dribble or shoot, but we were fairly tall for our age, and the coach saw potential and gave us a chance. I’m not sure how far J. took her balling career, because she moved away before we started high school.
The peak of my career occurred in eighth grade when my team unanimously chose me for captain that year. I anticipated a few passes, cut the lanes, and hit my lay-ups. Pretty consistently. Plus I got along with everyone on the team. I never did the click thing, until I was forced into a click of non-clickers by the clickees who excluded me. Continue reading →