Saturday, January 9, 2010

And Now For Something Completely Different...

I'm the one on the left in the long shorts.

Some guy touched my butt today.

I really should explain, though I am contemplating leaving that statement just as-is for a bit of mystery.

Playing basketball at the church has been something I haven't done since we made differentiation between teams with shirt-vs-skins. Being that I was a bean pole and I didn't have a chest or anything on it, I always had something else to do when the guys got together at young men's. I stopped playing sports as a deacon which wasn't a very long career because I had just started as a deacon the week before. Never did I play team sports again with one brief exception of a half a season of boys volleyball until the unfortunate erection episode of '85. You may have heard about it.

So, playing ball, or even wanting to play ball anywhere is difficult for me.

Today my home teacher, Matt, who is in the elders quorum presidency, called me frantically to tell me that there were only four men from the team at the stake center ready to play, and that if there wasn't someone else in five minutes that they (We) would have to forfeit. "So, forfeit", I say. Who needs the stress? If you show up to play the outcome of the game is still in question. If you forfeit, then it's done and over with sooner with no tension at all. However, he pulled a quilt trip on me, which is like a guilt trip only more strings attached, and guess where I was in five minutes - with shorts and shoes and three layers of tee shirts so that if I had to take one of them off there would still be two to cover what has filled out to be enough chest for three of younger-deacon-me.

Now, the thing is, I can't play basketball. I am tall, yes, and I watch a lot of B-ball on TV with my boys, but I don't play.

I just pass the ball. If I just need someone to pass the thing around, then I am your man. Or cheer lead, yes, I'll be there with the manliest pom poms around. Or to stand there in shorts. I can still do that. But "dribbling" is something I usually have to clean up at home. If I really have to block a guy from shooting, I do a Liza impression.

But Matt the Elders Quorum man didn't need me to play. He needed me to stand there and be counted as number 5 so "We" wouldn't forfeit. Standing I can do. So while standing there being number five, I happened to trip up the opposing team-guy who fell flat on his face and was then charged with fouling me. That's what happens when you mess with the dude with the pecs, three tee shirts & a tan who is camping just above the key.
That's when it happened. Some guy smacked my butt and said “nice job, man”.

I have never had a guy touch my hiney to get my attention only to then run off. It was a dude from my ward - the one with the fauxhawk and the little girl who screams bloody murder in sacrament meeting.

This guy ran off and turned to give me a thumbs-up. He booked it across the court like he had just been burned by acid, or like he was waiting for a fast break, which, in retrospect, I suppose he was. Not one from me though. I was busy standing there looking good. That was my job.

And I felt like a guy for the first time in a long time. Some straight guy smacked my butt, and suddenly I was one of the guys - something I have wanted to be all my life.

I don't think I will be washing my left cheek for a long time.


  1. That's great! although my favorite part was that your hometeacher gave you a "quilt" trip.! :p

  2. Thanks BB. I made the correction. I spell about as well as I plat Bball.

  3. I get the whole play with the guys thing. For me being a Homo means that I want interaction with guys. Playing ball, having appropriate contact, and I love contact, fills a nitch I don't get at Meetings.

  4. This cracks me up, mostly because I've told all the straight guys in the area that if they are ever planning a sporting event of any kind of suddenly think, "Hey, we should invite Mike to play," that they should stop, recheck their silly little minds, and find an alternative.