Legacy Infinite Rap Session: Finality of a Season

“Every family will have their in-house disruptions, but when another team gets the big head, we’ll pull together to put them in the place.  This is Grown Man Ball (GMB)”

The Wild Thing of TTTB

The summer season knows its end when Labor Day is on the horizon.  This change in season usually indicates students returning to class.  The NFL kickoff is at your door and death row basketball is transitioning into it’s post season.  A point where the dominant species of ballers separates themselves from the casual ballers, merely content with extra time on the rec yard.  Na mean?

For me, a trip to the chow hall is anything by casual.  For nearly 2 decades, the trip has been the bridge to my primary source of nourishment.  The environment of the chow hall seems to change whenever death row steps through the threshold.  The tension rises and the unknown is served long before you sit at the steel tables to eat.  SMH.

While standing in line, I shared some words with a beast of a baller, better known as The Wild Thing.  He’s the rugged small forward of The Team To Beat (5-6); a gritty baller who’s always in the mix of any action between the baselines.  And let me just say; he’s intent on using the regular season finale as a measure of intestinal fortitude for his teammates as well as himself.

“Win or lose, this regular season finale should let everyone know that TTTB is not to be taken lightly – going into the postseason.  Its going to take a team to beat us, not one or two men.  So get your house together, and bring you’re A, B, and C game.”

The chow hall is filled with chatter, but as the line slowly progresses forward, the honesty of The Wild Thing bares a distinctive tone that blocks out the cacophony of voices surrounding us.

“MannofStat, you and everyone else on that rec yard, know that I can be a hot head.  This final regular season game will be about taking control of my emotions so that TTTB can have one less of a negative factor bringing us down.” 

We’re briefly distracted by the sound of a tray hitting the floor.  The chow hall becomes an orchestra of complete silence.  When it becomes clear that the distraction is merely the result of an overload of trays in the dish room window, the crescendo of small talk commences.  The Wild Thing shakes his head, then continues. 

“Going into this postseason as a #3 seed will make getting to the finals a tough road to travel.  But every road in life has its cracks and potholes.  I know if we play as a team, TTTB can win this tournament.  We’ve taken some L’s, but we’ve also beaten every team in this tournament.”

At times, the chow hall can be a setback.  The pitch of an officer’s instruction; discrepancies with the food servings; or the filthy cups displayed as suitable for us to drink from, can at any time, lead to disorder and chaos.  As we reach the ice machine, The Wild Thing circumvents any further distractions with a little history about his wild style.

“Street ball was a part of growing up for me.  You get your 5 best, and hood-hop or hit up the rec centers. And that waiting line,” he raises both hands for emphasis. “That waiting line can mean a long day if your team can’t run that rock to stay on the court.  I hate to lose at anything, MannofStat.  So I go hard at all that I do.”

I’m sure certain officers see everyone in a red jumpsuit as an animal.  The sound of the plastic trays sliding across the stainless steel is the reality of our here and now.  The Wild Thing glances at the unrecognizable food portions, on his tray.  He shakes his head, and then leaves me with this thought.  “Every man must fight the war within himself to truly say that he is the controller of his own destiny.”

What more could be said after that?  I mean, a wild thing doesn’t necessarily have to be an un-caged animal.  Sometimes it’s simply the possessor of the grown man logic of how to defeat the cage.  Ya heard?

Be Easy,

MannofStat

Copyright © 2013 by Leroy Elwood Mann