Blisters

To whoever out there even mildly interested in the progress of my basketball career, I'd like to send out a little reassurance. That Fat-Ol'-Mama is still treating it a real serious affair, never once failing a single session every Saturday afternoon. And that I am doing well in it and, if you may allow a little further elaboration that you might deem however as bragging, in fact getting better every week.

Let me just put it this way. No one would let me shoot now.

"Good, we got the shooter in the team."

"Pass the ball to her!"

"Don't let her... tiu!"


In fact, in just two months, I've worn out my shoes. And I figured I should pat myself on the back, reward myself, and perhaps invest in some new kicks.

LeBrons, but of course.



And yes, in case you were wondering also, I am still crawling home every Saturday evening.