Sunday, October 10, 2004

Are You There, God? It's Me, Daniel.

Dear God,

Hi. How are you? I’m fine. I know we haven’t spoken much in a forum outside of my own head since the morning of my statistics final in college, but I have something to discuss with you. I don’t have your e-mail address (your inbox is probably jammed anyway) so this seems like the next best method of communication. I’m guessing you read quite a few blogs. Isn’t Dooce.com awesome?

God, you have given me all of the things a man could want – a hot wife who teaches aerobics, a son who is working towards wiping his own tushie, a daughter who worships Barney, a dog who pees on the carpet, and a Honda CRV. I’m grateful for all of these wonderful pieces of my life – more grateful than I can articulate. But, God, I feel the need to press the bet just a little bit and make one additional request of you:

Would it spoil some vast, eternal plan if you bestowed upon me just a little more to work with on the basketball court? God, I suck, God.

You may have been watching cartoons this morning while I was at the gym, so let me briefly describe what happened. I took 20 shots over the course of two hours and made one of them. Every time I tried to grab a rebound, I came down with two hands full of air and on a few plays must have looked like I was trying to give myself a hug. Word of my aimless play began to spread through the whole gym and people poured in to watch me flail. One of my passes hit someone in the ass. And in the ultimate insult, my teammates actually began trying to coach me during the game. “Muscle that ball up to the basket, son! Quit being such a pussy.” I had more Gatorade than dignity this morning. It wasn’t pretty.

I’m at a loss, Lord. I have been playing this game since I was six years old and I haven’t gotten any better. Have I done something to piss you off? Is this about those magazines I kept under my mattress when I was a teenager?

Your Holy Immenseness, if it isn’t too much trouble, could you please find it in your Glory and Truth to bestow upon me some game. If you do, I promise to make you the first person I thank after each game. Just like the pros do.

Keep in touch.

Sincerely,
Daniel Evans

P.S. – Sorry about taking your name in vain the other day, but that canker sore really hurt.

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