I don’t remember how the conversation started or who started it or how it became about Zach and his childhood dream of playing basketball crushed on the court in 7th grade (or was it 6th?), but suddenly there he was in a heart-to-heart with Mia. He was laying it all open, how he hit every free throw during try-outs and how his friends all told him he would make the team, but he didn’t and instead became the water boy — ahem, team manager. I believe there was some moral to the story and then that was that. Mia and I moved on to something else because basketball can hold a girl’s attention for only so long.
But not Zach. On and on he went, trying to draw us back into his middle school reality. Blah, blah, blah.
“Okay, Daddy, now you’re just letting the words fall out of your brain.”
And he totally was.