But apparently, not getting invited to things has been passed on to my son. He’s been to about 6 birthday parties in his life. Maybe 7. He’s got lots of acquaintances I guess, but not enough friends that would invite him to their parties. Wonder how long he’ll be burdened by my no-invitation gene. Hopefully he’ll overcome it eventually.
The other thing that seems to be in my genes more than I think, is the lack of respect I get athletically. Now, I’m not super athletic – I enjoy finishing other people’s meals too much for that – but I still think people look at me and sell me short. I ended up creating a whole 4 team 3×3 basketball tourney at work, just so I could straighten out a few things I thought were uh, misperceptions.
It was the first time I was going to be playing basketball since my knee surgery. Probably not the wisest time to test out the knee, given the stakes (perceptions…) and I did call a few people earlier in the day to try and make sure I didn’t need a brace (they called me back during the games, saying I didn’t need one – if I was gonna bust it again, I’d bust it again, regardless of whether I was wearing a brace).
So 10 seconds into the game, I get the ball, pump fake, get Brian up into the air, try and pivot under him, to go upon the right, he swipes the ball with his left hand, and then there’s a shriek. Dislocated shoulder. Brian’s down. 45 minutes later, he’s getting put into an ambulance and taken to the hospital where they’ll put his shoulder back together the right way.
Perception still is that there’s a gonna be an injury around me…
But the games went on and now I’ve got some basketball cred in the group.
Next challenge – Sandy’s son – Ethan, who’s in incredible shape, playing soccer and tennis non-stop over the last year. Sandy and her daughter both think he can beat me in racquetball, within the first 4 games we play. He’s never played before. And not that he’s not a naturally gifted athlete, but there’s some geometry that goes into the game and it takes a little while to get that down.
Doesn’t matter to them though. They think he can beat me. We’ve bet a Cicero’s pizza on it. I end up
telling the story to Catherine and talk about how we can win a pizza from them (it’s one of her favorite pizzas) and I end with – don’t you think it’ll be cake beating Ethan? And then there was that long, telling pause.
So I’m gonna win a pizza from them and Catherine…
And It all seems so crazy to me, how I keep having these perception issues, until our last trip to Disneyland, where there are some photos of me and I’m able to see me how others see me – and I realize why I get no respect…I look like (and possibly am) just a big, clumsy oaf.
A big oaf that’s gonna be eating some free pizza that is.
Selling you short on your basketball abilities? I think you can take all the credit for that. 2nd tier within the group, you said. We weren’t fooled.
Ha. Okay, so it wasn’t all completely everyone else’s perception – I helped shape it a little. But I didn’t do nearly the “un-hype” job that others did hyping themselves up. And it was their hype that the tourney was really focused around. I just wanted to come in under the radar. Low expectations are the way to go, I just sometimes get surprised at how low they are.