The Real Nespo: Sports Fan

I attended my first Celtics game on Friday, April 23, 1993. I was 9 years old. Want to talk about a dream? Original Boston Garden. 2nd row. Courtside. Yeah…I know….

I was so close I actually reached out and touched Chief. I didn’t wash my hand for a month. Yeah….I know….

It was Kevin McHale’s last regular season home game before he retired. He was unbelievable, finishing the game with 17 pts and 11 rebounds in a 107-99 winning effort against the 54 win Cleveland Cavaliers and their wiley guard Mark Price. Good enough to earn him him Player of the Game honors (sponsored by Budweiser?).

I’m from a little hick town in of 10,000 people in Pennsylvania. It was during that game that I decided I was going to move 400 miles to live in Boston and root for the greatest sports team ever – the Boston Celtics.

15 years, 10 losing seasons, one Reggie Lewis death, one “he who shall not be named” (hint: rhymes with Dick Shitino) and a heavily Celtics-influenced decision to attend Babson College (Wellesley, MA) later, I finally made it to Boston – just in time for the first banner season in 22 years.

And it was worth it.

Haiti needs our help. So does the United States.

I've got a lot of mixed emotions on our nation's unbelievably inspiring response to the crisis taking place in Haiti.

On one hand, I am extremely proud of the individuals responsible for our response to the devastation that took place in Haiti. I recognize that the United States has the ability to help....we as individuals often have the ability to help....and I feel that gives us, as human beings, the obligation to do what we're capable of.

On the other hand, I'm deeply saddened that it takes a tragedy of this level to bring people together and inspire those with means to contribute. The truth is, this outflow of generosity and giving needs to happen EVERY day. ... See More

There are over 80,000 kids under the age of 12 in MASSACHUSETTTS who are homeless. To me, with the resources we have in this country going unused, is unacceptable. What our country has done for Haiti is phenomenal. It's necessary. Anyone who denounces it should be ashamed of themselves. But why does it have to begin and end with tragedy? Why can't these same people who are stepping up now recognize the problems we have here at home and do something about it?

Fate is nothing but the opportunities life places before us. Destiny, on the other hand, is determined by what we choose to do with those opportunities. Our character determines our destiny. It's our choice. Choose wisely....second chances are not guaranteed. Rarely even promised. Almost never deserved.......

How Long Should We Mourn the Death of a Dream?

Have you ever been wrong? I don't mean wrong like stating that Wilt Chamerbalin was the greatest player of his era, when it is very clearly (and rather undebateable) Bill Russell. I'm not even referring to someone asking you a question that you think you know the answer to but you're just flat out incorrect.

I'm talking about never being so sure of something in your entire life - so sure, in fact, that it was an important factor in many of your life decisions - only to find out that everything you thought you knew...was wrong. Everything you thought existed was an illusion - a lie. Have you ever been THAT wrong?

Wow... What then? What comes next?

How long do we allow ourselves to mourn for the death of a dream? To lament the loss of our last thread of innocence before complete sinicism assumes control?

How long do we get to feel sorry for ourselves for being a fool before it's time to pick ourselves up and find a new dream?

Is one day enough? A year too much?

It's interesting what the freedom of being wrong can bring with it. When we are THAT wrong we can suddenly find ourselves with absolutely nothing to hold us back from pursuing some of the life paths we have put on hold. No ties. No obligations. No longer paralyzed by a false sense of hope.

In a way, dreams can be blinding. Don't get me wrong, without dreams we have nothing. But dreams based on a fallacy or miscalculation (a dream of the worst kind - doomed to fail from the very beginning because of our own mistake) can blind us to any semblance of truth. These kind of dreams can allow us to create our own reality where anything can be taken as a sign that only pulls us in deeper. Where the truth, that we're on the wrong track, can smack us in the face over and over again - but in our warped state of mind, driven by blind ambition and certainty that we know something no one else does, we accept these truths at nothing more than another challenge to our goal. Just one more little obstacle to overcome. And how glorious will it be when we can show everyone just how wrong they were.....

I was wrong once. So wrong, in fact, that on far more than one occassion I let what I thought I knew get in the way of my ultimate life goals. A few years later I finally learned what I knew was wrong. It took me all of a few hours after that to realize how stupid I had been, and just how much time I had lost, before I started putting myself back on track for where I want my life to lead. Within hours I was planning the next phase of my life, and I was surprised to see how little it had to do with where I was actually at. Suddenly I was free - and motivated again - to retake the reigns of my life and start living up to the potential I was told I had.

But I haven't yet forgiven myself for my foolishness - for all of the time wasted. In many ways it saddens me. Which is why I ask the question: How long can we mourn the death of a dream? Is one day enough? A year too much?

Foolish is the man who puts himself in a position to be made a fool.

Embrace the mysteries of life

Life is full of mysteries. Some are strange. Some are ordinary. Many people try to make sense out of the insensible. Sometimes I find myself wondering whether or not we really want to know all the answers. Do we really want to understand everything? I don't think I do.

These mysteries add excitement to our lives. Sometimes they garner a sense of awe. Why do we harp over understanding the unknown? The truth limits the imagination. Not knowing allows us to dream - to make-believe and to fantasize.

When I was a kid I used to lay awake at night for hours just looking at the stars through my bedroom window - completely captivated by their beauty, and enthralled by their possibilities. When my first close relative died, I comforted myself by imagining those very stars that watched over me at night were loved ones in heaven, shining flashlights on us to light our night sky. Learning that they're really just balls of burning gas didn't add one tenth of the value of what my imagination allowed me to believe was possible.

Everyone's got an opinion, to which their entitled. Here's mine: Too often people agonize over every little detail of life. I say why not just sit back and enjoy some of these gifts of mystery that have been given to us? Embrace the possibilities.

Downpour

12 a.m.
and the rain is a freezing pool of confusion.
within wanders a single soul
drenched in perplexity, tormented by desire.
Weighed down by futility.
A single trait,
once a virtue, now his shame.
But the color grey imprinted on his mind.
Hope don't let go.
Dance this night again,
where two are as one.
A connection. Broken by virtue.
To be saved by the truth.
And the truth...
Fear not the chill of difference, but rather
relish in the warmth of connection.