This essay sounds like it was the same tournament Sherman wrote about in his first book, The Business of Fancydancing. There was a racist policeman in that one.
I was a teacher on the Cheyenne River Reservation in SD. I am a lifelong wrestler, but I was in my early twenties, fit, and a longtime pickup basketball player. I was recruited to play with some teachers in the adult night league in the school gym at Takini HS. There were ninth graders on other teams, and they took great joy in blocking my fast break layups from behind. I don't know that I scored more than one basket all season. The Lakota know how to play, and I would be humbled a second time in class the next day when their siblings would let me know how my play the night before had been "weak sh*t".
A motto of sorts that Chekhov is said to have applied to his stories is "Laughter through tears." It sounds very different in Russian (sort of smekh skvoz slyozi, if you can pronounce that!). Similar to what I was told is an old Polish proverb, "After you laugh, you cry." (I don't know how that sounds in Polish.)
Great story. It made me remember a time Native Americans helped me. I was finished with my four month rotation as a medical student on the Navajo reservation. But when I went to start my car to leave my car wouldn't start. Four of my male neighbors came over to help start it. They tried and tried and eventually using some flammable liquid set the engine on fire but the car started and I drove away. Navajo ingenuity. Great people.
Gotta add,?I love picturing you making yourself laugh as you write your own story. I guess that’s really the central concept in this whole sermon. Thank you.
What a well timed nickname! What a well timed story that serves up encouragement, humor, hope and humanity all on the same plate. I could use a big meal of that. This will hold me over.
Oh my god. I love this so much. The game, your three pointers, your dad and brother. Hey 55 points! 💥Love it! My Indian girlfriend tried to pass me (a 6 foot blond haired blue eyed girl white girl) off as Indian to play in a basketball tournament in Long Beach. We were high school seniors. It didn’t work. But the boys sure were cute!
I'm in awe of your swift turns at the end. Beautiful, biting, and hilarious. That last line -- damn.
This brought back memories of playing in the tiny bandbox of a gym in Hot Springs, MT, and how the whole community from Arlee would pack our own little gym in Troy. I once played against the great JR Camel, who might still be coaching for Arlee.
This essay sounds like it was the same tournament Sherman wrote about in his first book, The Business of Fancydancing. There was a racist policeman in that one.
I was a teacher on the Cheyenne River Reservation in SD. I am a lifelong wrestler, but I was in my early twenties, fit, and a longtime pickup basketball player. I was recruited to play with some teachers in the adult night league in the school gym at Takini HS. There were ninth graders on other teams, and they took great joy in blocking my fast break layups from behind. I don't know that I scored more than one basket all season. The Lakota know how to play, and I would be humbled a second time in class the next day when their siblings would let me know how my play the night before had been "weak sh*t".
A motto of sorts that Chekhov is said to have applied to his stories is "Laughter through tears." It sounds very different in Russian (sort of smekh skvoz slyozi, if you can pronounce that!). Similar to what I was told is an old Polish proverb, "After you laugh, you cry." (I don't know how that sounds in Polish.)
"Century of points!" hahahaha
Great story. It made me remember a time Native Americans helped me. I was finished with my four month rotation as a medical student on the Navajo reservation. But when I went to start my car to leave my car wouldn't start. Four of my male neighbors came over to help start it. They tried and tried and eventually using some flammable liquid set the engine on fire but the car started and I drove away. Navajo ingenuity. Great people.
Gotta add,?I love picturing you making yourself laugh as you write your own story. I guess that’s really the central concept in this whole sermon. Thank you.
What a well timed nickname! What a well timed story that serves up encouragement, humor, hope and humanity all on the same plate. I could use a big meal of that. This will hold me over.
Your story reminded me of stressful life events and times when I just had to laugh. Once again you touched my smiling heart.
Oh my god. I love this so much. The game, your three pointers, your dad and brother. Hey 55 points! 💥Love it! My Indian girlfriend tried to pass me (a 6 foot blond haired blue eyed girl white girl) off as Indian to play in a basketball tournament in Long Beach. We were high school seniors. It didn’t work. But the boys sure were cute!
Beautiful, funny, sad, restorative.
The longer I work at a tribal clinic, the more I am in awe of resilience of the People I serve.
Laughing at hardship is a unique take on life.
Thanks, Claudia.
I love so much about this piece Sherman. Thank you.
I'm in awe of your swift turns at the end. Beautiful, biting, and hilarious. That last line -- damn.
This brought back memories of playing in the tiny bandbox of a gym in Hot Springs, MT, and how the whole community from Arlee would pack our own little gym in Troy. I once played against the great JR Camel, who might still be coaching for Arlee.
I love this story. Thank you, Sherman.
Thank you, Kathy.
Love this story!
Thank you, tzlil!
I love it!
Thanks, Linda.
Absolutely excellent , Sherman !
Thanks, Jack.