Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Bobby Brown

I just wanted to tell you about me when I was 10 years old. The year was 1989 and I attended Hillsdale Elementary. I wasn't very cool or popular. I didn't get to wear sweats to school and roll them up to my knees, like the Shawn Castles, or the Randy Devies, or the Sam Johnsons. Nope. I had to wear my jeans with the Tuffskins patches because I was so hard on the knees. I was the teachers pet and damn proud of it.

It was about this time I fell in love with Sports. My brother Jim made me like the Celtics, Bears and Mets because he liked them, and I had to do what my cool older brother told me to do. Looking back on photos, my cool older brother wore his baseball cap tilted up just so his feathery hair-sprayed bangs could stick out of the front, but no matter.

I started to collect baseball cards in epoch proportions and instantly fell in love with the statistics on the backs of the cards. I would go into my room and memorize the numbers. I got pretty good at this and could tell you that Darryl Strawberry's career high in Homer Runs was 39 and that Dwight Gooden once went 24-4 with 268 strikeouts(his career high was 276 I believe) and a 1.53 ERA. George Brett's career high was 20 triples. (I didn't look any of those up, but they are probably right.)

Being a huge nerd and a butt picker (my brothers tell the story that I was always picking my butt and chewing on my shirt, much to their embarrasment), I would spend hours at a time in my room alone, devising insane games with the statistics, creating fantasy players and whole careers out of the numbers. At some point, this deviated into a game with dice and pencils (don't ask) and Lord knows what else.

You may wonder where this is coming from, and all I can say is from the song Tender Roni by Bobby Brown. See, I was driving in to work today and that song came on my Ipod. Yes, I have that song on my Ipod. "My heart belongs to Tender Roni she's my only love." I'm going to be frank, and it may get wierd. When I was ten, I effin worshipped Bobby Brown. I thought he was the baddest man alive because he rapped in his songs. This dude was hard core to me. He had that flat top and in his song My Prerogative, he said damn like twice. You can't imagine the thrill it gave this Mormon boy, sitting in his room alone with his baseball cards, dice and pencils, to sing "they say I'm nasty, but I don't give a damn." It was like I was a voyeur into an evil and forbidden world.

Of course, my obsession with Bobby lasted about as long as his success did, and I soon moved on to other things, but every so often, just as a reminder of my youth and the simple days when you could roll 6 dice to figure out the ERA of Ed Johnson, one of Bobby's songs will shuffle on my MP3 and put a smile of my face, just like it did this morning.


Anonymous said...

you sure cuss a lot for a mormon boy

Anonymous said...

It was "my prerogative" to wear my bangs out the front of my hat so step off!

Anonymous said...

are you sure you're a mormon boy?

i see a whole lot of camel toe trying to hide in those sweats...