Front Office Football Central - View Single Post - FBCB: Passion, Pride and Prestige (Take 2)

Cap Ologist · 07-14-2007, 08:30 PM

I end up in New York. Weird place to go when you want to get away. But my colllege roommate, Morriss, lives there, and so I find myself in the Big Apple to unwind. Caught a few shows, walked the streets. Didn't think about basketball.

Morriss works on Wall Street. To say he's done well would be an understatement. I think about the differences in our lives. Plush apartment, big city, potential to make more money than I could possibly imagine. Shabby apartment, small town in the backwoods of Texas, just hoping to stick around long enough to get the job done.

Central Park is a few blocks away, and I find myself there most afternoons. My last day in the city, I meet Morriss at his office for lunch. Another receptionist staring at me like I don't belong. I'm dreadfully underdressed, just jeans and a t-shirt, and her look tells me not to even think about sitting. He's in a meeting, be a few minutes.

I stand as nonchalantly as possible. Once again, I'm reminded that I'm a nobody in a somebody world. Morriss' voice comes down the hallway. I turn and catch a glimpse of reddish brown hair passing behind Morriss. He's ready. I'm intrigued. Something about the walk, the hair brought back memories.

It takes a second, then I place it. The girl in the airport. Her hair had been the same color. For a moment, I kicked myself again for not going to her table. The pickings in Nacogdoches were slim, and I definitely wouldn't be on the most eligible bachelor list anyway. Who wants to date an overwhelmed basketball coach?

We grab lunch, say good-bye, promise to keep in touch better. Cab ride to the airport. Baggage check, security, boarding. A few hours to myself before I get back to Texas.

I smile to myself as I drift off to sleep, thinking that at least this year, I'll have four guys on the court that I recruited.

Bump. The wheels touch down. Another long drive back to Nacogdoches. Stop by the office, put a few things away. On my desk is a note, #123 recruiting class, once again tops in our conference. The future is looking slightly less grim.

07-14-2007, 08:30 PM	#7
Cap Ologist College Prospect Join Date: Nov 2003 Location: Flower Mound, TX	I end up in New York. Weird place to go when you want to get away. But my colllege roommate, Morriss, lives there, and so I find myself in the Big Apple to unwind. Caught a few shows, walked the streets. Didn't think about basketball. Morriss works on Wall Street. To say he's done well would be an understatement. I think about the differences in our lives. Plush apartment, big city, potential to make more money than I could possibly imagine. Shabby apartment, small town in the backwoods of Texas, just hoping to stick around long enough to get the job done. Central Park is a few blocks away, and I find myself there most afternoons. My last day in the city, I meet Morriss at his office for lunch. Another receptionist staring at me like I don't belong. I'm dreadfully underdressed, just jeans and a t-shirt, and her look tells me not to even think about sitting. He's in a meeting, be a few minutes. I stand as nonchalantly as possible. Once again, I'm reminded that I'm a nobody in a somebody world. Morriss' voice comes down the hallway. I turn and catch a glimpse of reddish brown hair passing behind Morriss. He's ready. I'm intrigued. Something about the walk, the hair brought back memories. It takes a second, then I place it. The girl in the airport. Her hair had been the same color. For a moment, I kicked myself again for not going to her table. The pickings in Nacogdoches were slim, and I definitely wouldn't be on the most eligible bachelor list anyway. Who wants to date an overwhelmed basketball coach? We grab lunch, say good-bye, promise to keep in touch better. Cab ride to the airport. Baggage check, security, boarding. A few hours to myself before I get back to Texas. I smile to myself as I drift off to sleep, thinking that at least this year, I'll have four guys on the court that I recruited. Bump. The wheels touch down. Another long drive back to Nacogdoches. Stop by the office, put a few things away. On my desk is a note, #123 recruiting class, once again tops in our conference. The future is looking slightly less grim.