Tennis GAWD:
Across from my desk, Dad-Boss plops down. He smugly greets me with a smirk... "The Tennis Pro!" I grit my teeth and utter "that's right!" We gnash our teeth and glare in awkward silence.
I start the conversation. "Did you know that I beat Jeff (brother-in-law) 6-0, 6-0? Yep. That's called a double bagle. We played a third set and I won that one 6-2. So, if you are counting... I won 18 out of 20 games". Dad Boss sneers as if unimpressed. More awkward silence.
On days like this, my spirit is on fire. In fact, I walk around with a little pep in my step. Tonight starts four straight nights of tennis... a sport I rule. No one, not even Dad Boss, can bring me down.
People wonder why I play so much tennis. It's not very hard to figure out. The sport of tennis rewards me. I am triumphant, respected, and feared on the courts. It is something a Dad-Boss has never given me. I am just his strange gay son. Perhaps his greatest embarrassment?
And that is why...
Adidas SITH SHOES: Long have I waited for the last Jedi to fall at my feet.
posted by Brettcajun at Thursday, August 25, 2011
4 Comments:
Why did this post make me a little sad?
You know what, I don't think you're going to get the level of respect from your Old Man that I think you want. Sometimes it's just best to stop trying.
YOU know you're fabulous and that's all that matters.
BTW, nice kicks.
RG, I've been telling him that for almost 20 years and it hasn't sunk in. Then again, I've been trying to get him to understand that no number of tennis victories will ever give him what he really needs, because external validation is always ephemeral and subject to whim.
Deaf ears.
Knock! Knock!
Anybody here?
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