As hard as it is to believe, when I was young I played sports. I was just this skinny, lanky, clumsy, awkward kid. I had no muscle tone, but that didn’t really matter much because I was tall and fast. I played sports mostly because my parents wanted me to. I was born lazy, and introverted, so I naturally didn’t like going outside or doing things. In fact, it wasn’t until I got out of organized sports and started to see the creativity of passing that I even started liking basketball. If I would have loved it as much when I was a kid, you would be reading this blog of Professional NBA superstar, Bitter Ben.
Okay, let’s not go that far. Remember no matter how much I like something, I like laying on the couch more. My problem is I don’t know when to quit something. I basically didn’t stop playing basketball until like 39, when I announced my retirement to my church ballers. It was an emotional experience for all, if you count emotional people cheering that I wasn’t playing anymore. They were glad my old fossilized carcus was finally out of the way, so they didn’t have to pass it to me anymore or give me my required 5 minutes off the bench.
What they didn’t stop doing to me was throwing shade. In my day, that was called talking smack, or trash talk.
Thanks to basketball, people throwing me shade is no big deal. I’m have this calcified heart that can take the most amount of trash talk could ever throw at me. I’ve heard it all, mostly because I dished it out to others. In fact, if people throw shade at me now, I tell them that I appreciate it very much, because it is really hot outside and I could use some.
My daughter has developed the gift of trash talk, or as she likes to say throwing shade. She’s pretty good at dishing it out to her old man, but she doesn’t realize where she got it from. I’ve been thrown shade since my basketball days. She calls me old of course, but that just rolls off my back. She tells me I’m not funny, but I already know that. I go out of my way to tell her lame jokes, just so she will tell me I’m terrible. When she tells me that, I just treat it as a sign of affection.
I know I’m an outlier these days. It is much trendier to be offended by every word people say. Political correctness is the way of the day. I wish I could get more offended by what people tell me, but I just can’t. I’ve got 99 bitter problems, but getting shade offended isn’t one.
How do you guys feel about smack talk? Trash talk? Throwing shade? Are you offended by every little slight? Or do you just brush everything off?
Bitter Shady Ben