The Butt Pat

Today I went to the gym to do my normal routine (start off with basketball to get my heart rate up, move to weights, do 20 to 30 minutes of cardio on bike or running, finish with abs), but I got caught up playing basketball. Whenever I get a chance to run some games, whether they are 1 on 1 (myself vs. Colver), 2 on 2, or even a full court 5 on 5, I take it. I was just practicing shooting when someone asked me if I wanted to play 2 on 2, so the rest of the work out went away essentially.

Now the point of this blog post is not to identify my workout habits. That would be a very, very lame blog post. Not that this isn't necessarily, but I do find this topic to be vaguely amusing. No, the topic of this is the title, which is the Butt Pat.

I was playing against this one guy in his 30's who plays often and is pretty solid, and then the other guy (the guy I was guarding and was guarding me) was a guy probably in his 60's who was wearing a Scottie Pippen Portland Trailblazers jersey. Of course, the guy who was guarding me, Scottie as he will be remembered, was a person who was a big time proponent of the butt pat, which is a tactic often used by teammates or opponents to congratulate someone for a job well done or nice try...or really anything of that sort.

After years and years of playing sports, I've gotten used to that. But when people are doing that randomly during the game and repeatedly, even if literally nothing has happened, well...that is just weird. He was doing this pretty much all the time. Looking back on it, I find it hilarious (especially given a certain friend of mine's travels on Craig's List in which she found out that the Alaska Club West - where this took place - is apparently frequented by many gay men). It was definitely a little weird...not that there is anything wrong with that.

I did get my revenge however, as his apparent focus on the butt pat led me to have open threes towards the end of the game, and we went from being down 12-7 to winning 16-14, largely in part because of myself catching fire. 4's threes and a turnaround jumper to win it. Count it!

Quick side note in here, entirely unrelated. A little while back I made a post about my coworker asking me if I got in a fight, because she thought I had a black eye. This was of course because the bags under my eyes were so intense it looked like that. This happened again today. Good lord, I'm a freak.

Maybe this happened because it's 10:52 pm and instead of going to bed, I'm writing a blog. Sometimes the answers to questions we have are pretty easy to figure out.