After a lot of careful thought and consideration, I’ve decided to officially resign from being an adult.
I know, I know, it’s been a little sketchy whether I’ve always acted like one anyway. But after lengthy meetings with management and my team of advisors, I’ve decided to make it official.
I’m going back to being a kid again.
This decision became all too clear while I watched the pre-game warm-ups at Franklin’s basketball game against Valley View Friday night.
There is air of electricity when the Wildcats take the floor, especially these days, and anticipation is high about the excitement that is about to occur.
Players are shooting jumpers, cheerleaders are leading cheers, the music is loud, and the Franklin faithful mill around talking with one another.
But in the middle of it is 9-year-old Isaiah Bales (at left in the photo), the son of Franklin head coach Brian Bales and his wife Jayme. He is with his buddy Jaden Rambo (at right), who is son of Wildcat assistant Brent Rambo. One day, Jaxson Taylor, son of assistant Josh Taylor, will join them.
But for now, because he is the oldest, Isaiah owns the place.
Scott Wallace may be the security manager, and Jake Long might be the site manager, and there are police officers present, along with Franklin city prosecutor Steve Runge and Judge Rupert Ruppert.
But Isaiah runs the show, no question.
We’re in his house.
Isaiah has his own warm-up suit, bright red and zipped up to the chin, the way all the varsity players do. And when the warm-ups come off, he has his own uniform, with No. 2 on the back. And shoes? This boy has some serious kicks.
As all this happens, he stands proudly at center court and dribbles a basketball, often between his legs. He won’t score an official point during the game, or call a specific play, but this is his team. Evan Crowe, Alan Watkins and Luke Kennard, they are not just his idols, they're his teammates.
When tip-off finally comes, he’ll sit on the Franklin bench, right in between guys like Tyler Ross and Jake Daniels.
I want to do that. Why can’t I do that? In the immortal words of John Fogerty, “Put me in, coach. I’m ready to play.”
I’m ready to return to a time in life when a ball game is the most important thing going.
I’m ready to have idols I can look up to and believe in.
I’m ready to feel like I am Superman, who can leap tall buildings with a single bound.
I’m ready to fall into bed, exhausted, all because of the game and not because of complex, adult issues.
I’m ready to dream of a better tomorrow, when a state championship can be won.
I’m ready to love all of the people around me, my teammates, because we are one spirit together.
I’m ready to believe that nothing can ever hurt me.
And I’m ready to once again live under the roof of two paresure my every need is met.
Isaiah, my man, you have inspired me. You’ve made me realize what I want to be when I grow up.
I want to be 9, forever.
So I’m turning in my car keys, my bank card, my pension statements and my all-important prescription card.
I’m resigning from adulthood. I’m going to go hang with Isaiah.
If you want to discuss this with me, you’re going to have to catch up with me.
The ball game starts in just a few minutes.
I know, I know, it’s been a little sketchy whether I’ve always acted like one anyway. But after lengthy meetings with management and my team of advisors, I’ve decided to make it official.
I’m going back to being a kid again.
This decision became all too clear while I watched the pre-game warm-ups at Franklin’s basketball game against Valley View Friday night.
There is air of electricity when the Wildcats take the floor, especially these days, and anticipation is high about the excitement that is about to occur.
Players are shooting jumpers, cheerleaders are leading cheers, the music is loud, and the Franklin faithful mill around talking with one another.
But in the middle of it is 9-year-old Isaiah Bales (at left in the photo), the son of Franklin head coach Brian Bales and his wife Jayme. He is with his buddy Jaden Rambo (at right), who is son of Wildcat assistant Brent Rambo. One day, Jaxson Taylor, son of assistant Josh Taylor, will join them.
But for now, because he is the oldest, Isaiah owns the place.
Scott Wallace may be the security manager, and Jake Long might be the site manager, and there are police officers present, along with Franklin city prosecutor Steve Runge and Judge Rupert Ruppert.
But Isaiah runs the show, no question.
We’re in his house.
Isaiah has his own warm-up suit, bright red and zipped up to the chin, the way all the varsity players do. And when the warm-ups come off, he has his own uniform, with No. 2 on the back. And shoes? This boy has some serious kicks.
As all this happens, he stands proudly at center court and dribbles a basketball, often between his legs. He won’t score an official point during the game, or call a specific play, but this is his team. Evan Crowe, Alan Watkins and Luke Kennard, they are not just his idols, they're his teammates.
When tip-off finally comes, he’ll sit on the Franklin bench, right in between guys like Tyler Ross and Jake Daniels.
I want to do that. Why can’t I do that? In the immortal words of John Fogerty, “Put me in, coach. I’m ready to play.”
I’m ready to return to a time in life when a ball game is the most important thing going.
I’m ready to have idols I can look up to and believe in.
I’m ready to feel like I am Superman, who can leap tall buildings with a single bound.
I’m ready to fall into bed, exhausted, all because of the game and not because of complex, adult issues.
I’m ready to dream of a better tomorrow, when a state championship can be won.
I’m ready to love all of the people around me, my teammates, because we are one spirit together.
I’m ready to believe that nothing can ever hurt me.
And I’m ready to once again live under the roof of two paresure my every need is met.
Isaiah, my man, you have inspired me. You’ve made me realize what I want to be when I grow up.
I want to be 9, forever.
So I’m turning in my car keys, my bank card, my pension statements and my all-important prescription card.
I’m resigning from adulthood. I’m going to go hang with Isaiah.
If you want to discuss this with me, you’re going to have to catch up with me.
The ball game starts in just a few minutes.
