We Ought To Celebrate Beauty In All Things

Sunday morning basketball and Team Furp* -- current and former teachers all -- plays the kind of team defense that causes grown men to weep.

After a screen, M. comes off his man to trap the ballhandler, I run over to cover M.'s man and denying the pass, while S. sprints from the weakside, steps in front of my man and knocks the ball out of bounce. Da Vinci, Shakespeare, a sunset at the beach... and us.


* a furp is the quasi-medical term given to that gastronomical release that may be a burp, or may be vomit; nothing is revealed until relase.