Dispatches from the Fury Road: One Small Steph for Man.
I don’t feel like I’m alone in saying the start of 2022 has been a slog.
I watch the events playing out in the Ukraine and suddenly catch myself humming Sting’s 1985 single “Russians”. This is confronting because not only am I thrust back into my Cold War paranoias but I’m also thinking about Sting.
I watch as our Prime Minister attempts to use a welding torch with only the power of Jesus as his safety goggles.
I watch as the New York Times purchases Wordle and creates a global hurdle for us to all overcome through the American’s constant denial of the rights of the letter U to exist peacefully in a word of its own.
There have been personal battles every week for this new year as well. Some are universal. Some are unique. Some I shouldn’t share. Some I don’t care to share. This is not a cry for help as I am more than fine but the chaos that has infected my every waking moment often leaves me sitting on my lounge at night, staring at the moon and wishing that I could just make one small leap to that lunar surface and enjoy a time out.
Essentially I feel wiped out. I am at October patience levels and it isn’t even March yet. I have started to think like Michael Corleone and have begun to make plans for the future that are ruthless and potentially damaging. I don’t like making ultimatums but you have to protect yourself somehow.
Yesterday I watched the NBA All-Star game, a showcase for the greatest basketball players to come together and play the game for fun. It was also a celebration of the top 75 NBA players of all time and it was quite beautiful to see Oscar Robertson rubbing shoulders with Carmello Anthony. It was touching to see Shaquille O’Neal with his arm around Kareem Abdul Jabbar. It was fun to see Michael Jordan take it personally in a good way as he hugged LeBron James.
Then there was the game itself and in particular Steph Curry. My favourite three players of all time are Magic Johnson, Dwyane Wade and Steph. Yesterday he put on a show. On a night of stars old and new, he shone beautifully on the court. He shimmied as he he hit three-pointers. He played up to a Cleveland crowd that still hasn’t forgiven him for denying their Cavaliers three extra championships in four years. He laughed with his great rivals as he played the game they all love.
My favourite moment was from the photo that accompanies this blog. From the corner he attempted a three-pointer and immediately turned his back to the basket. He looked at the crowd and asked if it had gone in. He knew it had swished but he was in showman mode. He was the ultimate entertainer. He was the king of pantomime as the crowd yelled, “The shots behind you!” He’s holding up his hand signalling for three because he knows it is going through the net. Yet for all his flamboyance what brought me a feeling of overwhelming joy was the look on the young boy in the bottom left hand corner. Look at his face. Look at the way he’s staring in awe even as his hands work independently to take a snapshot of a Splash-shot. That is the look of a boy lost in a moment and feeling nothing but love. Awe. Excitement.
The look on the young fella’s face made me happy. With that look of wonder he blew the cobwebs away from the past couple of months and put some pep in my step. From that point I decided to ignore the darkness that had invaded the every day aspect of life and I allowed his enjoyment to hug me like a greeting from a long lost friend. I even began to hum a happy tune. No more Sting for this guy. How long will it last? How long is a piece of string? Mine is about 7 centimetres but yours might differ.
It doesn’t matter how long it will last.
Make the choice and take a win where you can get it.
Then when the bad times encroach again…as they will…you’ll be in a better place to meet the challenge.
Justin Hamilton
Surry Hills
Feb 2022
Original photo from Warriors NBA Instagram page. Link here.