We didn't have access to television at all let alone cable growing up
but I was going through junior high at a time when basketball was
becoming really mainstream on the talents and marketing power of the
consensus best player of all time Michael Jordan. Everyone was
talking about him, even non-fans knew who he was and about his
transcendent talents. I had to get on board with something that cool
but in the pre-internet world television was your only real option to
see Michael in action. My trick to be able to fit myself into sports
conversations was to listen carefully when people were talking about
the game or highlight that they saw an d I would pretend from then on
that I had seen it myself. My dirty secret is that I had never seen a
Bulls basketball game in my life but I wanted so badly to be into
what was cool that I would talk like I was a Jordan expert. This
would get me in trouble whenever a person who had actually seen
whatever sporting performance I was referencing would either ask me
about a specific moment or correct my erroneous retelling. I was so
caught up in the hype that I pent a good deal of my hard earned cash
on Jordan and Bulls related paraphernalia. I had posters, a bulls
basketball, shirts and hats but what I really wanted was a leather
bulls jacket that was in the window at the sports store at the mall
but it was a totally unattainable 250 dollars. I told my mom that I
didn't want anything else for Christmas or my birthday combined then
that one jacket. I hoped, perhaps irrationally, that she would get
the money together somehow and make my Christmas wish come true. A
few weeks before Christmas when I knew that my mom had locked all of
the presents into a unfinished bathroom in the add-on to our house I
jimmyed the lock and took a peak at what was in store for my holiday
surprise. The small room had no lights so I had to look at everything
from the light that would filter through the door. I carefully
searched some of the bags on the ground and didn't find my coveted
prize but then I looked up and hanging from a nail on the wall was a
Bulls Jacket, not the all leather one I had really wanted but a
Letterman looking one with leather sleeves and a big embroidered mull
head on the back. It was awesome, my heart was beating fast and I was
overcome with pure joy as I slipped into the garment and it felt
amazing. I sneaked out to the other bathroom to properly appreciate
my reflection in the three-way mirror, and it was even better then I
had imagined it could be. I reluctantly put the jacket back where I
found it and arranged the bags and boxes the best I could to make
them look undisturbed. It was killing me to wait the couple of weeks
till I could wear my jacket and I was genuinely overjoyed when
Christmas morning came it was not a surprise but there was pure joy
in my reunion. I thanked my mom most copiously and gave her and my
dad a hug, almost in tears about my great fortune. The one great
thing about being poor is that when you finally get something good it
is really good, rich kids just getting one more thing for the pile
cannot understand what having one good thing feels like. I have had
other good Christmas gifts but never one that pleased me so
overwhelmingly.
