Team

So this year, after coming back from my european course, i joined my "all life" team. The basketball team from my neighbourhood. The difference this year is that some of the player with whom i was playing where the ones i used to train... about 5 or 6 years ago... or more. Now they have grown up. So i just joined them to play sometimes along the week. Not games, just train with them. I didn't want to compromise my saturdays keeping somebody who could play always from doing it.

But after some months, reality is that i am not only playing with them during the week... but also training them, going to their games as coach... And also training a junior team, with one of my senior teammate(too much mmmmms in that word? Drift i need you).

So anyway, there, up in the picture is the junior team that i train. From left to right and up and down: evidently me, Dani, his cousin Javi, Aitor, Iker(his brother and my teamate), Papa(i really don't know his real name), Gotxon(that was the first time i saw him, smart guy he came for the photo), and Valencia.
They are very few, but usually we count with some more players from the category the club has under them.



So they are the bad team, they are really bad, believe me. And the older ones are suppose to be good players. But reality is that as a trainer i have just won two matches with the olders. And all of them with the juniors. The first reason for that is that the juniors, i want to believe, are more serious than the seniors. (The videos are an example of that, the senior team dining.)

The other reason is that the juniors are so bad, and so innocent playing that they don't really have up side downs, like most teams have, during a game. It doesn't matter if the other team plays good or not, they moreless play the same way all the game. And the other team(and last weekend also their parents), finishes frustrated and throws the match to the garbage bin. I like the constant way they have got to play. Is a pity they are so bad, but their mentality is one of the bests i have ever seen in a team trained by me.



The seniors are something different. Much better players, but a really bad team. They don't know how to pass the ball. And that, doesn't matter what they say, is the most important thing for a team that plays basketball. Not the shoot, not the bounce, the pass. And that is something they don't do. Moreover i don't know how they do it... well i know... but we always end every game arguing one with each other... So in general they are all nice people... but... they are some viruses in the team... that don't just make it not work as a team, but also sometimes create a rare ambient.

Anyway... there was no virus in the dinner we had in a "sidreria"... wich is a... typical basque restaurant. Not high "cuicine", but home made... and really expensive. This time we had the luck of meeting a "hen night" or "bachlorette party" or whatever it is called the last party a bride has before her wedding(if that is not correct this time is Tere and Keilah's fault). So the table next to ours was full of mad girls looking for funny guys. And i must recognice that some of my teammates are really funny. The result is in the videos.

Filling the heart

I have always liked that image. Some people think that is a little bit gore... but com'on i am the guy who can't watch "House" or "Grey's Anatomy" cause gets sick when they start talking, and sometimes showing, all that medical stuff... I know better than you what is gore, and that picture isn't.

So i have always liked it, and i think it's because i can feel identified with it from time to time. I mean that from time to time i feel like i have wasted all that's left in me, in my heart, and feel really empty, with the need of filling it up again. I suppose that's something quite normal. If you have lived your day fully, you should feel a little bit empty. Not just tired, but also empty, as if you have given all that was inside of you. And you need to fill your deposit again, because tomorrow a new days awaits... and you would like to live it as fully as today.

But sometimes i feel like my deposit is not enough to arrive to the end of the day. Someone comes to me and asks me a little bit of my fuel cause he has run out of it... and... crap, i am empty, i have nothing else to give. I usually feel a little bit guilty about this. Probably because i don't know how i always achieve to finish my day, to arrive to the goal. But somehow i think that maybe my incapability to give someonelse a little bit of my energy during my trip might make him stay for a long time stopped at the side of the road, waiting for someone with a heart more filled than mine to be a little bit more generous than me.

Probably my problem is that sometimes i am conscious of my limits. You know... i still have energy in me... but is just for me. Is the energy that i need to end my day, if i give it away, even to a beloved one, the one who is going to be lost in the middle of nowhere is going to be me. I suppose that that has got just one name, selfishness. And at the same time lack of trust. Trust that when i am going to be completely empty someone will come and fill me again. I suppose that i have never liked to depend on no one... but i still think my life would be better, if i would accept to empty my heart more usually, and therefore accept to fill it again.

Welcome!!!

Some have to leave, and others arrive. I think that's life. That cute thing you see between a couple of cheeks is called Morgan Grace and is the first baby of one of my mates(my God, he is even younger than me!!!:S)

Anyway... good news have to be spread even more widely than the bad ones. And the arrival of Morgan Grace Smith, and the good helth of her mum, are good news. So.. welcome to the world!!!

One talker aping two.

I usually never quote texts in my blog, but i found this poem in a book i was reading. Is a kind of answer the poet gives to those that think that when we, christians, pray, we make the part of the prayer, and also, the part of the answer. I like very much the last two verses:

They tell me, Lord, that when I seem
To be in speech with you,
Since but one voice is heard, it’s all a dream,
One talker aping two.

Sometimes it is, yet not as they
Conceive it. Rather, I
Seek in myself the things I hoped to say
But lo!, my springs are dry.

Then, seeing me empty, you forsake
The listener’s role and through
My dumb lips breathe and into utterance wake
The thoughts I never knew.

And thus you neither need reply
Nor can; thus, while we seem
Two talkers, thou art One forever, and I
No dreamer, but thy dream.