I’m pretty sure that exactly one week before this, I reported on a Zen-like night of free throw shooting with my Dad … wasn’t particularly fast, but everything just seemed right with the world. Made a high percentage of shots after the season’s first day of snow and, as the kids say, it was all good.
Tonight was exactly the opposite of that.
My poor Dad. Not that the monotony of these foul shooting sessions is ever what I would call carnival-like fun for the rebounder — and they’re certainly not social events, as the necessary focus on the count prohibits much interaction — but tonight he got the extra bonus of me being in a plain old bad mood. Tired, frustrated with the relatively poor shooting, slow, and dare I say bordering on whiny. Even I didn’t like myself. The night’s number was OK … thanks to a few good streaks we put up 1,100 in under 2 hours, but let me tell you … I wouldn’t rebound for me much if that were a typical evening.
The good news is, it wasn’t a typical evening. It’s Sunday morning, and I’m reminding myself that all that has come into place to make this happen is a gift to me, one that I’d better not take for granted. A day at a time, I need to convey my gratitude not by merely saying I’m grateful, but by showing it. I’ll consider it a lesson learned.
(Was that a second consecutive entry of Dr. Phil-ish sentiment? I believe it was.)
And here’s the other good news: over 4 percent! That’s 40,507 down, 959,493 to go.