You don’t know who was a baller A dancer Hip hop trip dancing On stages Synchronous with teammates Grown In grown up clothes: Workpants, Dresses, Neckties, Orange vests Bright green labor shirts. Grown. Identified by jobs, Families, Pastimes and hobbies, Passions and problems. Grown. But who knows what is in there still? The dancer, Hours of practice after hours of school Hip hop dancing That skip stop swaying With a synchronous stomping With the tuff dressed team. The baller, Lane shifting spinning swisher Grunting sweating D in your face Floor slapper, chest bumper Feels teammates all around Without seeing them Connected by the ball Courageous for the ball Getting rejected by the ball Then craving it more It’s still inside them You will see it When he grabs the cup Just as it starts to fall without seeming to look; When the ball dribbles off the court, And she scoops it up But instead of tossing it Back to the players She takes a shot Her dress swishing with the net.
We went to the first game of the season last night. I feel so fortunate to have UConn sports in my life. It connects me to my wife, family and so many friends. The communal feeling of being a fan is so valuable to me. I treasure moments, like being in an airport wearing some gear and a stranger says, “Go Huskies!”