Up 98:79 with 19 seconds left, the winning team usually just runs the shot clock out, but when our point guard got the rebound, he immediately kicked the ball out to me and yelled at me to go off a ball screen and shoot. Now you don't have to tell me to shoot twice, usually this is music to my ears, but this is the first time he had told me that all year (unfortunately) and I knew that the fat lady had been singing for a few minutes, so yes, I turned down a shot, and pulled the ball out.
It wasn't until after we had showered when team President came up to me and asked me if I didn't like beer, that I started to figure out what had happened. I was pondering the variety of ways I could answer his question and the various repercussions my response could have on my contract, when he interrupted and reminded me that whoever scores the 100th point has to buy beer for the team. I gave a sigh of relief that I avoided the question, and then immediately went to confront my point guard, who readily admitted that the only reason he had called a ball screen for me was so I would have to pay for his drinks. At least he is honest and has good game-situation awareness.
|Our point guard getting what he deserves for trying to trick me into buying his drinks|
On Monday I took a break from orthopedics at the hospital and went to shadow the gynecology department-it was Valentine's Day after all. The first surgery I saw was the hysterectomy of a legal dwarf, and it didn't get much better after that. Because they can't stop the blood flow to the reproductive organs like they can to a wrist or foot, the surgeries were a lot more bloody than in orthopedics, and because of the nature of the surgeries, they seemed a little more gruesome. Needless to say, it was a slightly less romantic V-day then I am used to, but definitely one I will never forget.