Sports

I've been watching a lot of the Little League World Series recently (the house I currently live in doesn't have cable, so the majority of the sports I watch are on ESPN3 through our XBox 360).  As I watched, it made me think about my own youth sports experience and how many random memories I have...

I remember making a stretch play at first base on a ground ball back to the pitcher on the first baseball team I ever played on.

I remember making my scoring my first two points on the first basketball team I played on, and having my dad tell me afterward that I shouldn't throw my hands up in the air after I score.

I remember wanting to play center my first year of organized football, because that's what my dad played.

I remember swatting the bejesus out of a friend's shot in a basketball game, getting called for a foul, and then literally laughing on the court with my friend.

I remember hitting a single and scoring a run in a championship game in baseball (it was probably my second or third hit all year).

I remember losing a semifinal game in basketball my second year, in which we nearly came back and lost by 2.  I remember going to bed, then going to my parents crying because I was afraid I would never win a championship in anything.  I think I was 8 or 9 at the time.

I remember winning a championship in basketball the next year, and my coach calling me the "Shaquille O'Neal" of the league as he handed me my trophy.

I remember getting licked while practicing on side kicks by one of the hardest hitting kids on my team.  Then laughing about it with the coaches and the kid.

I remember making a snap tag on a throw up the line the last year I played baseball.  I also remember another mother commending me for being so positive and encouraging.

I remember a basketball practice in 5th grade where we were all so out of control that we eventually had a dog pile at half court, and feeling bad because the coach couldn't stop us.

I remember leaving a middle school dance early so I could go to bed, then losing to one of my best friend's team in basketball the next day.

I remember throwing a ball from deep right field all the way to the plate to save a kid from getting a home run in the last inning.  We lost anyways.

I remember finding out that I would get to play tight end in 8th grade, and being pretty pumped.

I remember when my 7th grade basketball team scored 75 points in a 32 minute game, and contributing 16. 

I remember making a sliding one handed grab in one of our first football games, and the ref calling it incomplete (it wasn't).

I remember getting fouled at the end of a close game in 8th grade when we were down by one.  I remember looking at the crowd, then at the bench in a panic.  Then I remember looking at my friend underneath the basket pointing at me and laughing.  I made both free throws and we won.  He later told me he was just glad it wasn't him.

I remember getting my first and only interception on a screen pass that I read.  I remember running towards the end zone with no one in front of me, then getting caught by the fastest player on the other team after about 15 yards (maybe).

I remember getting a clean line to the quarterback late in a close game.  I remember hitting him, and then apparently I got up and danced.  I got yelled at, but I literally don't remember dancing, just hitting him and getting yelled at.

I could go on and on, through all my phenomenal memories of high school basketball, to pick up football and sandlot baseball.  And as you may know, I love sports.  I was the kid who would wake up and watch Sportscenter twice through.  I love the Baltimore Ravens and the Orioles, Georgetown and Temple basketball, and just watching the games in general.  Hopefully, some day, my life and career will incorporate sports in some way.  But I hope I never lose all those memories, and I'm glad those kids at the Little League World Series helped remind me.

Expectations and Motivation

This one might be a long one, just a heads up.  So I just got a new job last week busing tables at a restaurant.  Now I have no problem busing tables, because I needed a job and have no qualms about cleaning up after people.  But it did make me start thinking about some things.

If I could go back in time four years, or eight, or ten, and ask my younger self what I thought about my future, I'm not sure what I would've said.  I'm very much a go-with-the-flow type guy, and don't worry too much about what the future holds.  I probably would've assumed that I would be teaching, or working for some business, making plenty of money and being a stable adult.  If I had known that I would be living in South Philly, not making much money, and generally living, as my friend refers to it, "in a fantasy world", I would've never believed it.

I also wonder what people who I used to know might think of me now.  High school classmates and teachers, college friends and professors.  Would they believe that I still had long, shaggy hair and a thick beard?  Or that I sit on my stoop for a few hours a day chatting with neighbors and smoking hand rolled cigarettes?  I doubt any of them envisioned that as my future.  But what does it all mean exactly?

I don't view myself as a failure in any way, shape, or form.  Would I like to be making more money?  Of course, but so would most people.  Would I like to get a job that I loved doing?  Absolutely, but I know that is a luxury for most of the world.  And am I happy with my life?  Certainly, at least most of the time.  Which leads me to the "motivation" part.

I am incredibly envious of people who seem to have it figured out.  My little sister is currently in San Diego, working for a non-profit that she feels passionately about.  And while I couldn't be happier for her, I'm also jealous that she has found something she loves doing.  There are things in this world that I believe in, and things in this world that I really enjoy doing.  But I don't know that I've found something that I have that kind of passion for yet.  I'm not sure if it's because I'm still growing up, or because I haven't tried hard enough, or if that thing just hasn't come along in my life yet.  But I think it would be really cool to have that thing to push me.

As I said, I am very happy with the life I lead.  I realize what a great life I've lead, and couldn't ask for much more.  I just can't help but wonder, if life has taken me down this path that I never expected already, what's next?

Where I Live

It's been a while since I've written anything, mostly because I've been pretty busy, but also just because I haven't made time for it.  Now that I'm semi-unemployed, I should be writing more, so here goes nothing.

I have been fortunate enough to live in South Philly for two years now, and have loved pretty much every minute of it.  I live in a large house with 5 other wonderful roommates, although two of them are rarely around.  Some of those roommates have come and gone, or are on their way out, or are new, but in general, everyone who has lived here while I have has been awesome.

I'm also lucky enough to live on a superb block.  I know my neighbors, and they know me, and we all get along swimmingly.  I can generally sit on my stoop and find someone to have a conversation with anytime of day or night, and it's pretty fantastic.  I've made plenty of friends, and had some crazy experiences that I wouldn't trade for anything.

I think now that we have been here for two years, we are pretty well entrenched in the community.  Me especially.  Part of the reason is that I'm on the stoop anywhere from 2-8 hours a day, partially because I'm smoking or drinking with my neighbors, and in part because I just enjoy it.  Our stoop can be an escape, in a people-watching, chilling sense, not a middle-of-the-woods sense.  And that's what it has been for me these past few years.

I can go out on my stoop, smoke a cigarette, and just think.  About whatever problems I may have, about family and friends, about life in general.  Sometimes my neighbors help me take my mind of things by coming over, drinking a beer or two, and discussing anything from sports to neighbors to race relations and beyond.  And it's fantastic.

I know that at some point, probably sooner rather than later, this great ride is going to come to an end.  As I said, roommates have already come and gone, and most are closer to leaving now.  I myself may be closer to leaving than I even know, who knows?  But I do know that I will cherish this time in my life, and the friends I have made, and wish that it never had to end (at risk of sounding cliche).

The moral of this story, I think, is that there are certain parts about growing up that suck.  As I get older, and come to grips with that, and prepare for another part of my life, I find myself becoming more and more reminiscent, missing people and times and places, and worrying about difficult goodbyes.

I hope this doesn't come off as too sad, because that was not my intention.  I am super thankful for the experiences I've had and the people I've met here in South Philly.  I've been just about as lucky as anyone could ask for.  I know that I have nothing but good times ahead, and look forward to them.  I'm just in a reflective mood, and I know that when I leave, whenever that is, I'm going to miss the hell out of Wharton School for the Gifted.

Intro

So I have been contemplating starting a blog for a while, and now I'm doing it.  I figured the best way to start would be to write about myself, and although I know pretty much everyone who reads this will know me, I'm going to do it anyways.

-The name of this blog is a combination of two of my nicknames, "Waters" and "The Big Cat".  It is not meant to be poetic.  How did I get those nicknames?  I don't really know.  I also go by RaRa, Rah-rah Lah-hah, R-Dawg, or just Rorie.

-I was born in Baltimore, and grew up in Severna Park, Maryland.  For now I live in South Philadelphia, and I love it.

-I have an awesome family and a really great group of friends from both my hometown and here in Philadelphia.  I am also terrible at keeping in touch, and they don't hold it against me, which makes them even more awesome.

-I am a terrible morning person.  Or more generally, a terrible waking up person.  As in, I never want to wake up, and not in a depressing, can't get out of bed kind of way.

-I like sports, a lot.  I will probably write about sports on this blog sometimes.  However I don't have cable, so my opinions are based on whatever I can see/read whenever I can.

-I am open about lots of things, but not everything.  I am easy-going and open-minded, and generally like just about everybody, so if I don't like you, there must be something really wrong with you (just kidding).

-It's hard for me to be mean, even jokingly (see above fact).

-I very rarely reread what I write, so I don't edit what I write.  Don't hold it against me.

-I procrastinate, and am consistently late.  I like to consider myself always "fashionably late".

-I like drinking beer, sometimes too much for my own good.

-I'd like to think I'm a pretty smart guy and a pretty decent writer.  You may disagree.  That's okay.  I'm aware that I am neither the smartest nor the best writer ever.  It's okay.  I'm over it.

-I have a beard, and I love it.  But not in an obsessive, "I'll never shave it" kind of way.  Once upon a time, I had some pretty terrible mustaches.  Photo evidence does exist.  I'm not ashamed.

-I will try to post here somewhat frequently, especially early on.  I may also stop posting after two weeks, in which case I'm sure you will be terribly disappointed.  I'm sorry.  I go with the flow, so I write when I feel like it.

That's about all I've got for now.  Hope that wasn't too long (I'm still learning this whole blogging thing)...