The Draft

Recently, someone told me that when you are single in your late 20’s, all that is left are the 2nd round draft picks. Since this individual’s bold declaration almost two weeks ago, the idea has bothered me and I have found myself mulling over it.

Dating, like sports, is competitive in nature. There is the “don’t hate the player, hate the game” sentiment; the baseball analogy as a measure of your ability to score. We recite stats when talking of potential suitors: height, hair color eye color, age, job, etc. We analyze these stats and decide if we want to continue dating either because of them or in spite of them.

If this is the case, why do I find the whole draft theory so disconcerting?

I think my biggest issue with it is the negative connotation. By definition, 2nd round draft picks are inferior to those who go 1st. When comparing stat sheets, you got outranked by someone else. They are better.

I do not find this to be necessarily true. Someone else may be a better fit for the team if the team is lacking in a certain area. This does not reflect on me or comment that I am inept in some way. I may just be skilled in a different area which would not be a good fit.

If you pick up a sport later in life, you just haven’t had as much practice as someone who has been doing it since childhood. You just need more time to develop. People peak at different times. To gain the experience necessary to succeed, sometimes you need to put in a little more effort.

Things don’t naturally come easy to everyone. Maybe you have to play in the minors for a little bit to work up to the pros. Maybe you were sidelined with an injury and have to give yourself time to heal. Whatever the reason, you will value that success when it does happen because you had to work, logging in additional practice hours, in order to be ready. You will recognize opportunity and quality when you see it and you will appreciate it that much more.

In an article I read recently, the author talks about this very thing in conjunction with the NBA draft… “The ‘diamond in the rough’ theory of the NBA draft means several general managers will make a bevy of mistakes in evaluations during the draft, thus allowing the diligent GM who did his homework to find quality players — perhaps even a future All-Star — in the second round.”

Some noteworthy 2nd round draft picks: Cliff Robinson, Brett Favre, Boomer Esiason, and Tiki Barber, to name a few. These are often solid, dependable players. They may not be the flashiest or the most high profile on the team. They are content to sit back and let the others flaunt their showmanship. Their stats speak from themselves.

The Refugee

My tale of my recent tangle with Mother Nature...

A few nights ago, we had one of those severe New England summertime thunderstorms. The type precipitated by 95 degree heat and 100% humidity. Then suddenly, the skies grow dark and all hell breaks loose. I was walking to my car after work as the clouds rolled in. Luckily, I got in before the assault began.

I hate thunderstorms. I always have and always will. The ominous sound of the rumbling thunder, the giant bolts of high voltage electricity reigning down from the sky, hail the size of a Hostess cupcake. This is not an enjoyable experience for me.

It took me almost 40 minutes to drive the 8.6 miles home. The roads were pure anarchy…it was everyman for himself. As the bolts of lightning touched ground all around me, all I could think was “I am going to get struck by lightning and I don’t have insurance.”

When I finally made it home, I was greeted by complete and total darkness. This was when I learned that I do not own a flashlight. Thankfully I do have mass quantities of candles (leftover from all of my romantic evening interludes...or bridal showers)

Having spent 4 years working at the Electric Company, I often took outage calls from customers. Being on the recieving end and hearing "We have no estimated time when your power will be restored" is the last piece of inforamtion you want. But that is exactly what I got.

I realized just how much of an integral part of my life electricity is. I didn’t know what to do with myself in the dark. I gave myself a pedicure, I organized my photos and I tried reading by candlelight. Finally, I just succumbed to my natural instincts…I took a nap.

After my nap, I went out to dinner and then for a shopping excursion with Eboogie. I figured by the time I got home, the power would be back on.

Apparently I am an optimist.

Eboogie and I traipsed through the darkened hallways with my newly purchased flashlights. She turned to me and said “I will not allow you to sleep here alone tonight with no power. You are coming to sleep at my house.”

I protested for about half a second about how I am an adult and I can stay home alone if I want to in the dark before my overactive imagination got the best of me. I knew that within 10 minutes of sitting in the dark by myself, I would have concocted some sort of psycho killer scenario and completely freaked myself out. So I put down my head, packed a bag by the glow of my flashlight and headed home with my big sister to sleep in my old room.

Thankfully, the power was back the next day and I only had to throw away my container of feta cheese which was the only food in my fridge.

And now, I plan to start work on my ark completele with it's own generator so I will never find myself in the dark again.

Just a Number

I turn 27 on Saturday. I am excited about this for a couple of reasons.

1. It is a day where you realize just how many people are thinking of you. All of the phone calls, emails, texts, cards, etc. That is like crack to someone who likes warm fuzzies.


2. It is my day. Although my father often throws impromptu “McDougall Days,” people get to celebrate me! (McDougall Days are days when he calls me up at work to tell me that it is McDougall Day and that I can ask for whatever I want for dinner and he will make it.)


3. I get presents.


4. Free meals. I have already been taken out to lunch twice this week for my birthday and it isn’t even here yet.


5. Did I mention the presents?

I thought that the leap from the mid-twenties to the late-twenties would be a dramatic one. It isn’t. My mid-twenties, for lack of a better descriptor, completely sucked ass. Why shouldn’t I be happy to leave them behind?

Milestone birthdays are riddled with inherent pressure. At 21, I went out and partied like everyone else. At 25, I lamented the fact that I wasn’t where I imagined myself by 25. I have reserved the same amount of enthusiasm for turning 30 as I have for the impending apocalypse as I am sure I will have set up new goals I want to accomplish by then.

I have no hang ups associated with 27. No pressure, no preconceived notions. Nothing. I can just relax, have a good time and feel the love.

Man, does that feel good....