Open Road/ Three's

Done the right way, driving, with its sense of accomplishment and feelings of gettting somewhere, is, in my estimation, perhaps one of the most pleasing tasks a man can do.

I bring this up because yesterday I got the urge. The urge to drive. "Ball the Jack" as Kerouac said. Cruise and let mind wander back towards clarity. I've also been wanting to get out to one of my cousin Cole's basketball games all season. But due to scheduling conflicts, I haven't been able to make the 3 hour drive to the Quad City area. Last night his team started regional play and yesterday I didn't have work. So, simply, the urge could not be denied.

I drove alone, radio off, balling the jack into the sunset. I made the three hour drive in a hair over two; at one point wondering why they don't just make cars that only go 65.

I met up with Uncle Greg and Cousin Robert at the Erickson Chevrolet showlot in Milan, Illinois. As I pulled in, I realized I had been in the same lot once before. It was the Fall of 2000 and the Iowa Phi Delts were on pledge skip. Myself and a few other actives were traveling with 20 pledges from Iowa City to Purdue University in the back of a U-haul outfitted with our chapter room couches, two kegs of Busch heavy, and a pair of funnels. One funnel, affixed to a tube leading out the back of the truck, we pissed into, the other was for beer bongs. I can't say whether the two were ever mixed up.

But off we were for our yearly weekend of pillage, beer drinking and philanthropy. Right around the Quad Cities I received a call from the kid driving our rig explaining that we were 'on E.' We got off on the nearest exit and had the guys following us in their car go get a little fillerup-can. We came to a stop and I told everyone to shush as I lifted the back gate a hair to slide out. I found myself in the brightly lit front drive of Erickson Chevy of Milan. Being the ranking elder on the journey, I took all ambassadorial duties upon myself. I met a fine young man to whom I explained our little hiccup, assuring him we'd soon be on our way. He agreed to not call the cops and as promised, we were soon off his property. We remembered to fuel up at regular intervals the rest of the trip. And during our Boilermaker weekend, I report that we also managed to accomplish all philanthropic agenda points.

But the game was in Aledo, not Milan. So I left my Jeep in the Erickson showlot and hopped in with Greg and Bob for the half hour drive into the sticks. I sensed that they were unsure why I would want to spend my day and night driving to see one basketball game. But they asked no questions. I felt obliged to explain myself, and mumbled something about needing to get out of Dodge. In truth, besides the driving part, which compared to nip/tuck city traffic, was a wide-open ice-cream-sundae of a drive, I wanted badly to see Cole play basketball.

He is the youngest of 13 cousins and will be the last, by far, to graduate high school. I think Cole feels like he missed the boat on some of the cousin stuff: The majority of us are within four years of each other. But on the other hand, he has proven to be the smartest and most athletically gifted us, earning straight A's forever and possessing Allen Iverson skills on the court. So I wanted to see Cole in his element. Bob had been telling me about Cole's 24 point scoring games all winter and I wanted to see it with my own eyes. After all, the best game I ever had was 13 points in a park district game (ironically, later that afternoon I claimed I had just played the game of my life, expecting I hadn't.)

We arrived and parked in the gravel lot adjacent to the gym. The inside of Aledo's old gym may have looked straight out of the movie 'Hoosiers,' but the kids pouring into the stands looked straight out of Cameron Indoor Stadium. I could tell a few outfits were being borrowed from Duke's Crazies after three guys walked in with huge afros, tight 80's era ball-hugger shorts, and painted green torsos. Then I caught my first glimpse of Cole, he looked like a high school kid, with touch of swagger. The program had him listed at 6'0". (By golly, I'm still the tallest in the family.) Before the game, they held the 3-point competition and Cole shot 5th. He made 2 of 15 shots, good enough to come in dead last.

The game began as most have all season for Cole. He was sitting next to the head coach on the bench. The amazing thing about those 24 point games he had this year is that they were off the bench. Cole is his team's 6th man. He got into the game at the 5:30 mark in the 1st quarter. But he was cold. He missed a few runners and bricked a couple three's in the first half but Erie still managed to go into the locker room with a 5 point lead. Robert told me that Erie hadn't won a close game all year, and most of the games they lost, they held a 5 point lead at half time.

Cole began the second half on the bench again but came in after 2 minutes. And from there on, he didn't leave the game. He made his first jump shot with about 4 minutes left in the third. Good, at least he scored. Then he took a three over an outstretched defender and banked in the ugliest shot I've ever seen. It was nothing but backboard, rim, and a little net. Okay, Robert told me, he couldn't cheer for that. A night like Cole was having would've made me emotionally crumble in high school. But Cole came out of nowhere in the 4th quarter and proceeded to go lights-out. His 15 4th quarter points is the most impressive athletic thing I've ever seen or heard one of our family members do. He simply caught fire. He was draining three's, making gritty turnaround jumpers, slashing for buckets, hitting free throws. It was a production. And considering that I crumbled under the pressure of high school athletics. Cole going lights-out at the key moment in a playoff game is that much more impressive. He was even playing to the crowd, looking like he was going straight to the League from his junior year. He sure-as-shit had me going. I'm told he was in a slump going into the game. I would say he broke out of that in a huge way. I'm writing it down here as a record of the hugest 4th quarter this side of Mike.

...After all the excitement, Greg dropped me and Bob back at Erickson and the two of us drove to Erie for a beer before I took off back home. We went to The Other Place and had two before the bartender closed up shop. I dropped Bob off and ended our good conversation and took off for 88. With the big clear moon as my guide, I hit the cruise control and enjoyed an easy ride back home to Chicago. Let my thoughts drift and reflect on everything. Slowly, the silver soybean fields gave way to the orange glow of the city. I rolled in earlier than most nights out with the guys. Took a long shower and crawled into bed. The day felt like a swish. I slept like a brick.