Posted on Thursday, 27th August 2009 by Mario Prache
A 38-year old man sits inside a small High School gym in Wisconsin watching his son and his son’s peers play basketball. It’s a sunny summer day on the outside, but air conditioning keeps the gym cool on the inside. You can hear a slight murmur from the crowd and the dribble of a basketball, but little else. From most accounts, this is a perfectly comfortable Sunday afternoon. But this man isn’t one of those accounts. He fidgets and sweats as if he was being placed in an oven. The man complains of hearing ringing, but no refs are blowing their whistle, no buzzers are going off. The other parents attempt to make small talk with the man, but he quickly feels overwhelmed and is forced to politely excuse himself. He gingerly steps down the wooden bleachers, looking as uncoordinated as someone who just finished a weekend bender. The man pauses at the door before reaching the hallway and watches his son fire up a shot as the first half nears a close.
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