The Aviator

I'm a basketball coach... a young basketball coach, and that puts me in a position to teach the game to and play the game with my high school players. One thing, though...

I'm one of the tallest people at my school.

See, I live in Brownsville, TX, which is 90-plus percent Hispanic. And, let's be honest, Hispanics are not known for their "verticalness."

Everyone asks me what it's like to be able to dunk. In a word: AMAZING.

And the next thing they ask is what it's like to dunk on someone.

It's a rush. Almost like flying. Yesterday, I got another sampling of that. I dunked on some kid who's a few inches taller than I (which is correct... I'm an English teacher, too). Now, to his credit, he's young, hasn't fully grown into his limbs, and WHITE. So maybe those rumors will persist. (And maybe Wesley's cleavage just made this a PG-13 blog...)

Before my wife and I moved to Brownsville, I'd never flown (on a plane). I was lucky enough to be on a jet, which means FAST. All I can say is that it was a rush.

When I was in high school, I was a member of the After Hours Jazz Ensemble; we played one of Frank Sinatra's standards. It'd be my theme song, if I were a flight school instructor.

Dunking = being on a jet + "Come Fly With Me"

P.S. No Hispanics were harmed in the posting of this blog... No flight-related incidents to report...