Deep Calls to Deep: The Me I Want to Be

After getting cut from the basketball team my senior year of high school, I remember only attending one game that season. As much as I would like to believe that I went to the game for some benevolent reason, I only went to berate the coach.

Sitting in the student section, just fifteen feet from the bench, I booed as loudly as I could when the announcer mentioned his name during team introductions. While I don’t remember everything I yelled that night, I know it was an ugly representation of ...