#brysonwashere

This is the league I play in.  And the high scores for each night.  

I think there are 4 games a night.  

This is the page I want to work my way onto.

I've never appeared on the top scorers list, for our league.

My "career high" in this league is 12 points, I believe.

I would also take a win.  A win would feel nice.

I have a game tomorrow.

I should text Danny and try to get him to come.

I'm worried my weed-smoking will hurt my endurance.

__________

Here is a picture of my "dinner" tonight:

I know.  Disgusting.

But what are the odds I'm the exception?

__________

That's one of the keys, I'm learning.

What are the odds -- really -- that I'm the exception to the rule?

__________

That's what I've told myself for years.

If I didn't want to eat right, 

then I would hear about

Steve Nash getting tons of sleep,

and Kobe Bryant giving up soda,

and how players improved their games by improving their habits,

And I would think to myself,

"Yeah.  But I'm the exception."

__________

For years, older players have been giving me clues.

Leaving scraps behind, 

for me, the younger player.

And I stubbornly said to myself,

almost condescending,

"Yeah.  And good for you.  But don't tell me how 'bodies' work.

Because mine is the exception."

__________

"I don't have to eat right.

I don't have to keep my elbow in when I shoot.

I don't have to do leg lifts.

I don't have to count my makes and misses during practice.

I don't have to learn the rules.

I don't have to 

I don't have to 

I don't have to--

I'm the exception.

__________

I'm not the exception.

I need to get into shape.

Legitimate shape.

I need to take some of those crazy spinning classes or something.

I need to get started.

I don't know how good of shape I can get into.

But I know I need to get into shape.

I need to build up my endurance.

__________

A week or two ago,

I was working on dribbling,

during a morning workout.

I decided to really go hard, at a level I don't normally reach:

100 percent.

I dribbled big -- like a six-foot-three point guard should.

I galloped down the court,

with the fullest force and speed my body would allow.

I think I made it about 12 seconds.

__________

I am not.  The exception.

__________

__________

It's Tuesday evening.

So far this week,

I've kept track of my makes and misses,

as I do shooting workouts.

I don't have pictures now,

but I'll post one later this week.

__________

That's a trick tool I learned from YouTube.

Every young basketball should spend time 

learning about the game

on YouTube.

__________

Let yourself be a nerd

for what you love.

__________

That tool was suggested by 

"the greatest basketball shooter ever not in the NBA,"

Dave Hopla.

I've adopted a few of the shooting strategies in that video,

and so far,

I'm happy with the results.

__________

__________

13 points may not seem like much.

But for me,

that shows some real improvement.

__________

At the beginning of this post,

I mentioned Danny.

Danny is the best player I've ever played on the same court with.

In the playoffs,

as I mentioned in a previous post,

Danny put up 42.

I played all 40 minutes.

And scored one point.

Danny almost single-handedly kept us in the game.

I almost single-handedly took us out of it.

After that game,

at the end of last season,

I was pretty bummed.

Understandably, so was Danny.

__________

I actually don't know if Danny was bummed or not.

I don't know where his head was at.

Earlier in the season,

we looked like we were headed for the 'chip.

("chip" means Championship, for the losers out there like me)

__________

I was the 5th wheel on that team.

Early in the season, I put up 12 points in a game,

and added 13 rebounds.

I was shocked with myself.

Then because of a couple cancellations,

we took 3 weeks off, 

and I didn't touch a basketball during the break.

When we came back,

it was the most embarrassed I've ever been on a basketball court.

It was like a bad nightmare,

like my own personal Charles Smith moment,

but an entire game long.

Just imagine 40 straight minutes of this.

__________

The next game was the first time in my life 

I got iced.

Hakeem,

the dude who would get signed by the Pistons two weeks later,

refused to pass me the ball, 

the entire next game.

That was how bad I was.

__________

On some level,

I feel like 16 year-old Bryson,

would think it was pretty awesome

I even got to share the court with a D-league player.

(And don't blame the dude.  You didn't see me play)

__________

Oh yeah, back to the story.

Danny's story.

__________

So there's Danny,

ready to "Team with 'Keem" (we should have made shirts)

and bring home the 'Chip.

And then 'Keem disappeared.

And it was Danny,

all by himself.

__________

We had other guys on the team,

don't get me wrong.

And they weren't bad players.

But they also weren't pro-level players.

Danny could play pro ball.

I don't know if he's an NBA-caliber point guard,

Because I've never been to an NBA game.

But all I'll say is,

Danny is the best player I've ever been on the same court with.

__________

__________

When I played so poorly in our opening-round loss last season,

it crossed my mind to quit.

It really did.

But I got amazing advice from Butterfly.

__________

"You can let a setback end your dream.

But not the first setback."

__________

She was right.

That playoff game came

3 weeks 

after I'd decided to try to play in the NBA.

I'd been working my butt off

(or so I felt, at the time).

And so to play even worse than usual,

it felt terrible.

I remember missing a lay-up,

off a full-court pass from Danny,

that should have been an assist for him.

__________

And just whiffing on the lay-up.

And then getting blocked from behind,

on another lay-up,

by a dude I found out later goes by

"Tony is Danger."

(who is actually a super, super good dude,

and doesn't live that far from me.

What up Danger, if you're reading.)

__________

Let's just say for me, 

he was more than dangerous--

he was deadly.

__________

I remember re-injuring the ring finger on my left hand,

when he blocked me.

Uggh.  Nevermind.

No excuses.  The game was an absolute bummer.

__________

Like I said,

Danny put up a heroic 42 in that game.

The rest of our team managed 23.

We lost 71-65.

__________

I can't make the game fun for Danny.

But I can at least text him.

I can at least make him feel like a teammate.

THAT.

THAT was the most depressing part of it all.

Danny is an amazing teammate.

He didn't "ice" me.

He doesn't do any of that bullshit.

He was a good teammate, to the end.

He was as supportive a teammate as I've ever had.

And I didn't always earn that.

But the dude just has "point guard" in his DNA.

Great teammate.

Cocky as fuck when plays,

humble as fuck in the huddle.

Cocky again, when he re-tells stories.

Hahaha.

Danny was a good dude.

If we never play a game together again,

it was a blast being that dude's teammate.

And I wish him the best.

(What up, Danny,

if you're reading.

I'll do my best to spread the legend)

__________

I seriously do think he could play in the NBA, by the way.

Andre' Miller is a point guard in the NBA.

He turns 38 in March.

He's listed at 6 foot 2,

but he was never a jumper.

He was just a smart-as-hell player

__________

Danny is about 5 foot 10.

He's as athletic as Andre' Miller ever was.

I've seen him catch alley-oops on the fast break.

I've seen him demoralize people with chase-down blocks

that would make LeBron queasy.

I've seen him hit Three threes in a row, 

in a dude's eye.

Danny has as much a chance to make the NBA

as Andre' Miller.

__________

Andre' Miller didn't debut in the NBA til he was 23-and-a-half years old.

He has made 64 million dollars in the NBA,

since he turned 30.

__________

Wait a second.

Fuck Danny.

I could be Andre' Miller.

I'm 30 now.

I just ate a plate of carrots and hummus for dinner.

I spent 3 hours at the gym this morning,

working on my game.

For the first time in my life,

I was playing 2-on-2,

and my teammate was a dude who played 4 years of college ball.

And I held my own with him,

as my teammate.

There was a time,

playing to 16.

We were up 12-11.

Every basket counts as 1.

He passed to me,

and my dude was playing off me.

And I'd spent an hour-plus that morning,

before any of them got there,

working on wing-3s.

And so I shot, from my position on the left wing.

Money.

13-11.

Griff (the So-Cal baller that just moved to Brooklyn),

Griff checked it in again.

Pass to me.

Same spot on the wing.

Dude gave me the same space.

Dared me to shoot.

I shot like I was shrugging at him.

"I guess we'll find out together," my shot said.

Money.

__________

14-11.

__________

Dude's gotta play up on me now.

Right?

Check again.

Griff feeds me the rock,

which you do, after a dude nails 2 in a row,

in a dude's eye.

My dude is maybe a half-step tighter.

Still plenty of room to shoot.

Should I tempt fate?

Should I let my teammate have a turn?

"But man, this dude is giving me a lot of room,"

my brain pointed out.

I faced the hoop.

"I don't know if this will go in.  But I know this dude deserves to have it go in.

Again."

I fired.

Left-wing 3.  Third time in a row.

__________

No swish.

But if you're wondering,

yes.

Yes, it found the bottom.

Money.

15-11.

__________

__________

Did I make the game-point shot, from NBA range?

Definitely not.

Not even close.

But hey.

Sometimes, you gotta heat check.

__________

In the past 3 months,

since I stated my goal of winning the NBA MVP award,

life has been better, for me.

I'm a better basketball player, than I've ever been.

The dudes I played with at the gym today were 

shocked

when I told them I was 30.

__________

That's not a starting point guard gig in the NBA.

But I'm not gonna lie--

it feels good.

Three 3's in a dude's eye.

Not bad for a dude that

Coach Schmidt

cut from the 8th grade team.

__________

Not that that's motivation or anything.

__________

It's 7:18 in the morning.  Christmas Eve.

I just clocked in.  With that previous sentence.

Do I want to be at work?  

Honestly?  Yes.  

And no.

__________

Being a comedian is a dream job.  So is being a writer.  For me.

What is your dream job, Reader?  Is it what you're doing now?

If it's not, then I suggest you start doing what I'm starting to do:

Start your career.  Before you can.

_________

Scratch that.  I don't have the womb to carry that type of burden.

_________

Womb vs. Balls

I always say it takes "a lot of balls" to do something gutsy.  Or "big balls." 

It hasn't felt quite right for a while.  Not because it's "offensive," really.  Just because it feels...inaccurate.  

I've tried to start using "ovaries" in their place.  "It took some huge ovaries, for grandma to say that.  I don't care how bad Obamacare is going."

But even that has felt more like a reactionary term.  Like it's a response to "balls," more than a term I would have come up with on my own.  

I wouldn't have thought of it "apropo of nothing," as they say

(which I learned literally during the taping of my first special, "Undone" -- available now at brysonturner.com)

__________

Womb.  I don't have the womb, to tell everyone to start the career they love, while they still have the job they don't.

But if I did have a bigger womb, I'd do it.  I'd say get started.

I'd say, "Just...do it." 

Because if it really is the career you've always wanted, then part of the reason you've always wanted it -- is because you would love waking up every day, and doing it.

You'd hate it too, of course.  The getting up in the morning part.  Especially on cold days.  When the blood doesn't fully circulate to your fingers, as you type.

When your neck is sore, from writing as you lean all your weight on one elbow.

When your eye hurts, because you slept on the bad one, and now it's all puffy

Some of these will be for just me, by the way.

__________

Yesterday, I woke up in Bed-Stuy.  I got up with my girlfriend, who has to be at work at 7 in the morning.  

Today, I woke up in Bellevue, a small town outside of Pittsburgh.  I woke up on my brother's couch, which would have pulled out into a nice futon bed, if I could have figured out how.

This morning, as I woke up inspired to write, I tried to move the couch closer to the coffee table, to write better.  Instead, I heard the sound of some velcro peel apart somewhere, and it immediately flattened into a bed.

Which I lie on now, as I write.  All weight on my left elbow.  Fingers freezing, though being warmed slightly by the excitement of a blog being written,

especially one about them.   sadfljasdfasdfglaslkdgj   v vv

(that was just for them)

(us)

__________

It's Christmas Eve, and again, my girl woke up this morning, got dressed, and willed herself to the hospital where she works.  (Just keep swimming.  Just keep swimming)

People die at 7 a.m. just as much as they die at noon.  So once she's there, she can't mail it in.  She can't fake it.

She doesn't have to be there at 7.  Work starts at 7.

__________

I don't make much money for us.  (yet)

But she busts her (great) ass, working two jobs.  In part, so I can focus on my career.  And on making my dream, into my career.

She just texted.  I'm gonna write to her now, instead of you.  

I hope you understand, Reader.

Besides, you should be doing something you love now, anyway.

This is Bryson Turner.  Comic and Writer.  Clocking in.

7:46 a.m.

This is one of the first days since I started using this blog

It's been a really frustrating day.  I slept in until almost 11.  I had breakfast, which was 2 healthy (and happy) banana/tomato/ginger smoothies.

I then went back to my bedroom, lied down, and started listening to B.S. Reports.  And fell asleep, until about 2 pm.  

It's 2:45 in the afternoon.  This hour, I've watched people try to sell things on YouTube.  

Which got overwhelming.  Because that's my dream, too.  My dream is to be a positive force on the internet, and to be able to turn that into the money I need to make a living, and support a family, and buy Christmas gifts for my girlfriend, and to do whatever the hell else I want to, with my money.

And today hasn't been a day I've used well.  Which has been tough.

I didn't take any drugs today. Yet.  I imagine I'll smoke marijuana later.

However, last night, I got home from a comedy show at about midnight.  And I drank a Grape Soda.  I had also had two Cranberry/Ginger Beers earlier in the evening.  

I think it may have been too much sugar.  I woke up this morning like I'd been drugged.

I have to go shower before I go into therapy with Dr. Alan.  I feel like showering almost always helps.  

I should keep working on consistency, and discipline, and developing a schedule.  And hygiene.  And remembering to turn off my phone.  And to turn off my laptop.

I turned off my phone yesterday.  And had a great, forward-moving day.  I was somewhere different, by the end of the day.

Today, that has not been the case.  Yet.

Here are some things that help me, when I'm having a rough day:

1. Showering

2. Jim Rohn

3. My girlfriend Vanessa (can be distracting because of our sexuality, but definitely positive overall.  extremely supportive and loves me with no brakes on the train)

4. Music

5. Writing (I hope)

Time to go shower.  I've been listening to music, as I listen to Jim Rohn, as I write.  I'm headed to therapy, and then I'll come home and meet Vanessa, and we'll get dinner together, and talk about our days.  Then we have a date tonight.

Keep going, Bryson.  Keep going.

Fuck this computer