Social Hour

Countdown to the end-of-season banquet: 7 days.

Just one week until I get to sit through hours of small talk, long speeches about winning, and awkward encounters like this.









I. Can't. Wait.

Culture-ized

The holy trinity of distractions for any college student. F.Y.R.: Facebook, Youtube, Reality television

People frequently ask me what I do with the free time that is commonly associated with being unemployed. Rekindling old friendships? Focusing on my studies? Am I at least doing something productive? Not quite. Actually, I've been facebook stalking, sifting through thousands of pointless youtube videos, and watching way too much of The Real World. You see. I want all of you, my loyal blog followers, to be on the same page. So I put together a "Best Of The Best" of Pop Culture if you will... Filled with things I love and why I love them. Hopefully you'll enjoy this as much as I enjoyed "researching" for it.

Facebook Groups I've Strongly Considered Joining:

1. "Yup. I'm a Women's Basketball Manager" The category it falls under is "Just for Fun - Inside Jokes" and the description reads: "A support group for all of the women's basketball managers of the NCAA. Share your stories about life on the road, and anything else related to being a manager. Manager Convention- is currently in process!" I've considered requesting to join, but the group currently has a measly 11 members, half of which probably work for the same school. And I'm a bit bitter that I didn't think of the idea of making a facebook group first.

2. "Getting Nervous At Airport Security Even Though You're Not A Terrorist" After being spoiled with the basketball team's charter flights, I find it very difficult to fly commercial anymore. Last time I flew solo, I tried to bring a water bottle through security. Big mistake. Probably because I'm so used to carrying that 24-pack of water and gatorade onto the plane for the basketball players. (You know, in case they get thirsty on our 45 minute flight to the state-next-door.) The only thing that kept me from joining this group is the fact that the FBI probably monitors every single member because this is exactly the type of group a terrorist would join.

3. "I Love It When Bus Drivers Wave At Each Other" Something about bus driver camaraderie really makes me jealous. I've spent a lot of time with the bus drivers on the road with the basketball team. They always have great stories about the bus driver "brotherhood" that exists out there. Among basketball managers, no such brotherhood exists. There are so many times I want to give an opposing team's manager an "I hate my job" look, but they always avoid eye contact. Starting next season, I'm going to wave obnoxiously at all managers until they acknowledge my presence.

My Favorite Youtube Videos:

1. Ellen Degeneres Scares Taylor Swift I would give anything for a hidden camera and free-reign to hide in the Women's Basketball Office and repeatedly scare the coaches without consequences.

2. You Forgot The Blueberries - For every funny video on youtube, there are 100,000 stupid videos. When I first started watching this one, I really thought it was going to be just like all the other videos that parents post of their kids being "cute." But take my word for it, watch this ALL the way through and you will find yourself laughing (or crying) hysterically.

3. Marcel The Shell With Shoes On - I normally find "cute" youtube videos - like the sneezing panda and the giggling babies - nauseating, but this video is equally cute and hilarious.

Reality Shows I Secretly Love(d):

1. More To Love - If you didn't see this reality show that aired in the summer of 2009, boy, you missed out. More to Love was like the Bachelor, but for fat people. When they weren't busy crying and dealing with their self-esteem issues, the contestants tried and convince 23 yr old, 330 lb bachelor Luke that they had the right junk in their trunk. The best moment of this show came in episode 1 (better known as the fake prom episode that made all the contestants cry about their tormented high school days): when Dani, a contestant, dove into the pool in her black evening gown and other contestants likened the scene to a Shamu exhibit.

2. When I Was 17 - Besides being great for seeing shockingly embarrassing pictures of Jersey Shore's The Situation, this show is perfect for distinguishing which celebrities are interesting and which are not. I firmly believe that most celebrities are no more interesting than say, a basketball manager. And by following them, we are only encouraging more boring, not-funny people to go into showbiz. For example, Snooki was a cheerleader when she was 17 - unremarkable. Khloe Kardashian stole her mom's Range Rover and accidentally caught it on fire when she was 17 - pretty darn interesting. Nick Cannon got fired from his job at Wienerschnitzel Hot Dogs because he would use the drive-thru intercom to tell jokes - interesting AND inspiring.

3. Real Housewives of __________ - New Jersey. Atlanta. New York. Orange County. This series is kind of like semi-sophisticated reality television for grown ups. Critics complain about the lack of morals that the ladies on this show possess, but I've come out of all-day Real Housewives marathons with several life lessons imprinted on my mind. Don't be tardy for the party. Money can't buy you class. And don't get hair extensions if you aren't prepared to have them ripped out in a cat fight. If we all watched this show around Mother's Day, we'd all appreciate our actual moms a little bit more. (For not being psychopaths, that is)

(Thanks to Viktor H at Designers Couch for the logos used in this entry.)

Swagger

(The following post is more of a social commentary than anything else. Now that we are fully immersed in the post-postseason, I have time to write about other things. But don't worry, I still use my experiences as a manager as the basis for everything. And even though my hours have been reduced, my job still sucks. I actually spent last Wednesday faxing transcript requests. For 4 hours straight. With no chair. (anyone that knows me, knows how much I hate standing))

There are two types of people in this world.

Person Type A: (Also known as a P.A.L. - Perfect-at-Lifer) The P.A.L. is the one that everyone wants to be like. They are usually described with one or more of the following adjectives: funny, smart, pretty, talented, awesome. If you have been in the newspaper more times than you can remember, have your own "highlight" video, and/or have your own fan club on facebook - congratulations, you've definitely made it. If people ask you for your autograph, are eager to spend time with you, or write nice things about you on the bathroom walls, that's a pretty good indication that you are in this category.

Person Type B: These are the type of people that spend their whole lives trying to achieve that level of notoriety associated with Person Type A. They may dream big, but they attempt little and achieve even less. They are generally described by the following adjectives: nice, average, boring. I won't go into much detail here, because Person Type B generally knows that they are Person Type B. My pet peeve is people who lack self-esteem. My pet peeve is Person Type B. (DISCLAIMER: There is a subgroup not being discussed here. Person Type B-S: These are the individuals that act like they are "the S#&^" but in fact, they are not.)

Now, I know what you're thinking. How could I simplify the complexity of humankind into just two categories? And furthermore, divide people based on looks and talent? That's just horrible! But I think you're missing the point. I'm not saying you have to be a superstar athlete, a genius, or a movie star to be Person Type A. Sure, it helps. But there is a loophole. The only difference between Person Type A and Person Type B is how they carry themselves. All it takes is the proper amount of confidence. Or, as the kids are calling it these days, "swagger."

To demonstrate my point, I will finally get to the event that inspired this whole post. I recently witnessed a basketball player (under age 21) get into a bar by saying "I'm on the women's basketball team!" Those six short words, delivered with the proper swagger, were enough to get her past the bouncer and onto the dance floor. And to think, the rest of the world has spent time, money, and effort on acquiring fake ID's. Ha! Now, do I actually think she got into the bar because she was on the women's basketball team? No. (Studies have shown that the only people that actually care about women's basketball are ... well, women's basketball players, their immediate family members, and several nursing homes in Indiana.) Do I think she got in for her dance moves? Maybe. The bouncer didn't let this underclassman into the bar because she could make a lay-up or teach him how to dougie, he let her in cause she had enough confidence to demand entrance. And that's exactly the type of person you want in your bar!

So I suggest you follow my lead. I intend to carry myself with the utmost coolness. My autographs will only be on receipts and consent forms. My "highlight" videos are the embarrassing homemade music videos I produce with my friends. Next time I head out on the town, I think I'm going to try "No. I don't have an ID. I'm the women's basketball team manager!" just because I can. And because anything is socially acceptable with enough confidence, right? As perhaps the most famous P.A.L., Beyonce, once sang, "if you got it, flaunt it, boy I know you want it." I firmly believe that we've all got "it", and it's just a matter of how we flaunt it that determines how our life will turn out. And trust me, this is coming from someone whose Mom still cuts clippings out of the newspaper when I place in the Turkey Trot 5K every fall.

Job Hunting

Well, ladies and gentlemen, the season is officially over. We have entered what I like to call the post-postseason. Obviously, it's an abrupt change for anyone involved in the basketball organization when the season ends. It requires a shifting of gears for the players, the coaches, and of course, the managers. As I watched the seconds tick off the clock in the final game of the season, I also watched my job disappear. There is no demand for a manager in the post-postseason (Except for the office work I'm going to be dragged into every few weeks between now and summer vacation). I am sad to see the season come to an end because this also means I have to leave the luxurious and disillusioned world of college basketball (where the only important thing is getting the W) and return to the real world (where people expect me to be productive with my time: volunteer, study, work, etc) ... And let me tell you, adjusting can be very difficult. No matter what job I find, they probably won't let me wear sweatpants and t-shirts all the time. Very few employers will feed me as well as the basketball department. Not to mention, I have to apply for these jobs. The application process for becoming a manager was very simple and took place via email:

Me: Hi there. I would like to be a manager.
Boss: Sure! Come on in and we'll set up your work schedule!

In hindsight, I should've been slightly more skeptical of a job that was so easy to obtain. I now know for future reference that a job that does not require an application, a letter of recommendation, or even an interview is probably a job that nobody wants.

But that is beside the point. I've taken some time in these past few weeks to apply for a few summer internships/jobs/etc. and I've had the same problem on all of them... It is nearly impossible to make "college basketball manager" sound legitimate. No matter how I sugarcoat it, my job is just a slew of menial tasks that require little/no brainpower. Most of the job applications have a section titled "Previous Work Experience" and as I fill it out, I wrestle with wording and exaggerations to try and cover up the truth about my joke of a "job." I'll show you some examples.

Job Title
What I Wrote: ______ University Women's Basketball Team Manager
What I Should Write: ______ University Women's Basketball Indentured Servant

Dates of Employment
What I Wrote: September 2009 - Present
What I Should Write: September 2009-March 2010 [6 month break] September 2010 - March 2011

Major Responsibilities
What I Wrote: Assisting with practice: setting up, rebounding, running the clock. Capturing and editing film. Assisting with office work.
What I Should Write: Assisting with practice: standing around with a basketball in my hands, fetching basketballs out of the bleachers, googling random things for Coach (like the time he wanted me to find out what type of monkey lives in the Mayan Riviera valley of Mexico). Addressing envelopes and folding camp brochures. In general, avoiding all film and office work and hope that the other managers pick up the slack. And of course, my most important responsibility: Making sure all the players are hydrated at all times.

As I wait to hear from my potential summer employers, I sit back and watch the managers that are lucky enough to still be employed (hopefully your March Madness bracket looks nothing like mine). I'll admit that I am slightly jealous of the Duke managers, even though they probably work 100x harder than I do. And I can only imagine what it would be like to be a manager for uConn - talk about job security!

My Song

Since some members of the team I work for have an (unhealthy) obsession with Taylor Swift, I thought it might be appropriate that I simultaneously pay tribute to my job and the great country star whose music consistently shows up on long road trips. Now, I'll be the first to admit that my parody song-writing skills are subpar ... but the basic idea is there. Enjoy.

(For those of you who don't know how the actual song goes... you should probably climb out from under that rock you are living under and click here)

MY SONG

I was riding shotgun, with my polo on

In an empty charter bus

It’s a shopping trip, got my list in grip,

Getting food for us

I shop around, put the junk food down

Boss says “Only granola please”

I say nothing, I am just thinking

About post-game munchies

And I think

My song is a buzzer-beating shot

Sneaking out late, trying not to get caught

When I’m at the store again, I thought

Who drank the Gatorade that I bought?

My song is a buzzing scoreboard

The first game “Man, I didn’t see it when that b&#)@ scored”

And when I got home ‘fore I said amen

Asking God if we could play them again.

I was walking to the charter bus

After shootaround one day

Went extra long, the bus smelled wrong

Like the trash I’d thrown away

Got to the Hilton, ready to run

To my hotel bed

I almost didn’t notice all the coaches

Who made me carry their luggage

My song is a buzzer-beating shot

Sneaking out late, trying not to get caught

When I’m at the store again, I thought

Who drank the Gatorade that I bought?

My song is a buzzing scoreboard

The first game “Man, I didn’t see it when that b&#)@ scored”

And when I got home ‘fore I said amen

Asking God if we could play them again.

I’ve been to every city, jumped on all the hotel beds

Waiting for something to come along

That was as good as my song.

My song is a buzzer-beating shot

Sneaking out late, trying not to get caught

When I’m at the store again, I thought

Who drank the Gatorade that I bought?

My song is a buzzing scoreboard

The first game “Man, I didn’t see it when that b&#)@ scored”

And when I got home ‘fore I said amen

Asking God if we could play them again.

I was riding shotgun, with my polo on

In an empty charter bus

I grabbed a pen and an old napkin

And I wrote down my song.

Daydreams

My apologies. It's been awhile since my last post. It was finals week. And as I have always said: Academics first, blog second. (Manager third)

When I became a manager, so did two of my friends (Shout out to LK and Scwhartzy... Misery (and miserable jobs) loves company.) And like any good group of college freshmen, we always traveled in packs. We developed a sort of buddy system so that we never worked alone and that made practices much easier to get through. We would sit behind the clock and chat about normal manager things. We would come up with elaborate plans for how we were going to make the basketball players our friends, even the intimidating ones. We would talk about what we wanted to be when we grow up. We would play lots of games. Like "Who Can Fold 50 Camp Brochures Faster?" One of my favorites was The "Question" Game. For hours, we would go back-and-forth with questions like these:

- "Which coach would you want to be your mom?" (Obviously not the crazy one)

- "If you had to be stranded on a desert island with one of the players, which one would it be?" (One that doesn't snore)

- "Which player would be the best older sister?" (Doesn't matter, Mom & Dad would love them more because they're talented)

- "How many shots do you think they have taken in their lifetime?" (We figure about 500,000)

- "Factoring in clothes, food, free trips, how much do you suppose we make per hour?" (... Then we realized we would make more in a Chinese sweat shop)

Keep in mind, it’s not that I have a lot of free time. It’s that my job requires me to sit there and do nothing but wait to be needed. I never thought being a basketball manager would require so much time and so little work... And now that my manager-friends have moved on to bigger and better things, I have to take on the task of entertaining myself during those long practices. So with one hand on the shot clock and a blank stare on my face, I delve into a dream world where anything is possible...

1. In dream world, being a basketball manager means getting a badge, a pager, and a moped.

2. In dream world, female basketball players can dunk.

3. In dream world, the other manager doesn't fall off his chair and isn't a total spaz.

4. In dream world, all the players make all their shots. I never get hit in the face with an airball and I never have to chase a long rebound into the stands.

5. In dream world, I can pull pranks without getting in trouble... I would glue all the marker caps to the markers and then watch the coaches struggle to pull them off. I would put on coach's jacket after he throws it to the ground and continue to distribute water and towels in it (see below: Throwing Things). I would write "That Wasn't Water..." on the inside of all the water cups (I'm definitely going to do this one. Dream world or not. I'm just waiting for a non-toxic, waterproof marker). And I would address all players as "Miss (insert state name here) Basketball" and bow graciously for an entire day.

Boom. My boss slams 100 purple envelopes and a silver sharpie down in front of me. "Address these, please" and I'm back in the real world.

Rudy

Ever seen the movie Rudy? It's the sports movie about the under-sized, under-skilled football player who overcomes adversity and eventually walks on the the Notre Dame football team in 1975. In the final home game of his senior season, Rudy gets a chance to get into the game and he sacks the quarterback. He is carried off the field. Everyone chants his name. He's a hero. Beautiful story, right?

It's because of over-achievers like Rudy that I can't go a week without being asked if I took my job as a manager as part of a ploy to get on to the team. Now, if you know me, just the idea of this is hysterical. To give you an idea of my skill level: I stand at 5'7'' with shoes on. In high school, I was more known for my glowing personality than my talent. As the starting point guard, I averaged more assists than points. I once ate a Snickers bar during a free throw. I often performed a choreographed dance to "Soulja Boy" during halftime of home games. Granted, I was heavily recruited by Loras College... (DIII, Dubuque, IA, Mascot: Duhawk?) But I'm also pretty sure my brother set up a fake email account, pretended to be my coach, and gave them my mailing address as a joke. Meanwhile, girls on the basketball team stand well over 6 feet tall. While I have multiple "Most Improved" awards and participation medals, they have multiple state championships and MVP trophies. They received legitimate scholarship offers from several DI schools. I think it's safe to say they take their basketball careers slightly more seriously than I do. So nowadays when people ask me if I plan to walk on to the team, I can only laugh and say "You've obviously never seen my jump shot." I am very content with sitting behind the bench rather than on it. But to be honest, I haven't completely ruled out the idea of trying out for the team...

I will join the team if all of the following conditions have been met:

1. It's the championship game.
2. The star of the team gets injured and I get to wear her jersey.
3. I take (and make) the game-winning shot.
4. Someone makes a movie about it titled "Remember the Manager".

Okay, okay. So realistically, this will probably never happen. But that doesn't stop my dad and I from joking that I will one day make the transition from manager to walk-on Division I basketball player. Usually brought up at family gatherings and dinner parties, it goes something like this:

Dad: (loudly) So, tell Grandma, when is the NCAA going to clear you to play?
Me: (loudly and proudly) Soon as I pass the drug test, Pops! *Fingers Crossed*
Mom: *shakes head, disapprovingly*

Reliable for a few laughs here and there, it's a good way to remind people that I in fact have absolutely no desire to play college basketball (not like I have a choice, I don't think college basketball wants me either). I value my sanity, my freedom to eat desserts, and my Saturday nights/Sunday mornings way too much to give them up. Sure, it would be cool to say that I played college basketball. But there are over 3,000 female college basketball players in the NCAA and only a few hundred college basketball managers. It should technically be cooler and more impressive to say I'm a manager, right? (Don't worry. I know it's not. I'm just saying it should be.) So for now, I think I'll stick with trying to find dates instead of lifting weights... At least until Warner Bros and I work out the movie rights.