Love Lost At The Diamond
Authored By: Bradley Chapline
Page Four
2005
Authored By: Bradley Chapline
Page Four
2005
Later on in this year, after being released from custody, I was working at the local bowling alley. I was still attending school. Nothing had changed. I still wasn't learning. And then, only periodically, I was just putting in an appearance at school. I certainly did not want to go back home. So, I did get my mother's blessing and I moved out. Several blocks away, I rented a room at a boarding home.
An elderly lady ran this home. She came to be what I would then treasure to be my only real mother on the face of this earth. For a while, that is, I became a very responsible young man. I paid my rent on time, bought my groceries, did my laundry, and improved greatly in both my performance and attitude at work. With the help of this boarding home lady, I was even completing homework and other school assignments. My landlady had loaned me her reading glasses so that I could see to do my book work. Every once in a while, my dad, secretly, would come up to visit me. He continually praised me for all the great strides I was making. His respect towards the boarding home lady was overwhelming. But, as usual, this did not last. David had ratted us both out. My mother now knew, thanks to my brother, just how well I was doing. This news all angered my mother. But, nothing more so than the fact that the elderly boarding home lady had become, in my eyes, my dream mother. Since I was underage, my mother called the police and demanded that they bring me back to my mother's to live.
All the advances I had made quickly crumbled. Once again, I got involved with the bad influences of a neighborhood family named Williams. I was eventually fired from the bowling alley, and my grades dropped back to rock bottom again. I only had short reinstatement stints with my high school's varsity baseball and track and field team. I had become like their revolving door. Each time I improved my school work, I was reinstated, and each time my school work faltered I was let go because of continual disciplinary hearings and not meeting academic mandates. To top off everything, because of inconsistent training and development, baseball would surely become a thing of my past. Anyway, I had damaged my right arm and was experiencing severe arm pain. I could not, ever again, throw a baseball even twenty yards in the air.
I then found a new love. It was singing. I joined the high school's concert choir. But, they too did not want me. To them, I could not read music, which was true, and I was a known trouble-maker. I had to listen to the person singing next to me to even get an idea of what range the musical notes were in. I got a lot of help from a nice neighborhood kid named Bob Gage. He was, at best, a geek, but Bob was also a top notch student. He was very religious, and had a tremendous baritone voice. At school, for a short period of time we became very good friends. Bob was a senior, and I was now a junior. Bob took me under his wing and tried his best to transform me. I even began going to church with him. Surprisingly, we wound up singing together in the Baptist church choir.
And then, I joined Bob on the church basketball team. We competed against other church teams throughout the Baltimore area. I learned, from Bob, in a short period of time, how to run an offense as a point guard. I was Bob's backup. It seemed we were becoming inseparable. Although my school work remained rock bottom, I had once again drifted away from the trouble of the Williams' family. My home life was beginning to see some smooth sailings. My mother was missing David, badly. He was now in the Army, and was deployed to Vietnam. I had silent prayer sessions. I begged God to please have the enemy shoot and kill that son-of-a-bitch.
On our church team we had two black basketball players. They were both stars on our high school's varsity basketball team. Were they ever great players! They were also good academic students and were impeccable, as citizens. We had also formed a good friendship. One day after practice at the gym I invited them over to my house. I figured my parents would finally be proud of me for associating myself with such good young men. Upon reaching my house with Bob and my two African-American friends, my mother stood in the doorway, blocking us from coming inside. I explained to my mother that these were the two guys I played basketball with on the church basketball team. Both my mother and father agreed by saying, "No nigger is coming into this house."
An elderly lady ran this home. She came to be what I would then treasure to be my only real mother on the face of this earth. For a while, that is, I became a very responsible young man. I paid my rent on time, bought my groceries, did my laundry, and improved greatly in both my performance and attitude at work. With the help of this boarding home lady, I was even completing homework and other school assignments. My landlady had loaned me her reading glasses so that I could see to do my book work. Every once in a while, my dad, secretly, would come up to visit me. He continually praised me for all the great strides I was making. His respect towards the boarding home lady was overwhelming. But, as usual, this did not last. David had ratted us both out. My mother now knew, thanks to my brother, just how well I was doing. This news all angered my mother. But, nothing more so than the fact that the elderly boarding home lady had become, in my eyes, my dream mother. Since I was underage, my mother called the police and demanded that they bring me back to my mother's to live.
All the advances I had made quickly crumbled. Once again, I got involved with the bad influences of a neighborhood family named Williams. I was eventually fired from the bowling alley, and my grades dropped back to rock bottom again. I only had short reinstatement stints with my high school's varsity baseball and track and field team. I had become like their revolving door. Each time I improved my school work, I was reinstated, and each time my school work faltered I was let go because of continual disciplinary hearings and not meeting academic mandates. To top off everything, because of inconsistent training and development, baseball would surely become a thing of my past. Anyway, I had damaged my right arm and was experiencing severe arm pain. I could not, ever again, throw a baseball even twenty yards in the air.
I then found a new love. It was singing. I joined the high school's concert choir. But, they too did not want me. To them, I could not read music, which was true, and I was a known trouble-maker. I had to listen to the person singing next to me to even get an idea of what range the musical notes were in. I got a lot of help from a nice neighborhood kid named Bob Gage. He was, at best, a geek, but Bob was also a top notch student. He was very religious, and had a tremendous baritone voice. At school, for a short period of time we became very good friends. Bob was a senior, and I was now a junior. Bob took me under his wing and tried his best to transform me. I even began going to church with him. Surprisingly, we wound up singing together in the Baptist church choir.
And then, I joined Bob on the church basketball team. We competed against other church teams throughout the Baltimore area. I learned, from Bob, in a short period of time, how to run an offense as a point guard. I was Bob's backup. It seemed we were becoming inseparable. Although my school work remained rock bottom, I had once again drifted away from the trouble of the Williams' family. My home life was beginning to see some smooth sailings. My mother was missing David, badly. He was now in the Army, and was deployed to Vietnam. I had silent prayer sessions. I begged God to please have the enemy shoot and kill that son-of-a-bitch.
On our church team we had two black basketball players. They were both stars on our high school's varsity basketball team. Were they ever great players! They were also good academic students and were impeccable, as citizens. We had also formed a good friendship. One day after practice at the gym I invited them over to my house. I figured my parents would finally be proud of me for associating myself with such good young men. Upon reaching my house with Bob and my two African-American friends, my mother stood in the doorway, blocking us from coming inside. I explained to my mother that these were the two guys I played basketball with on the church basketball team. Both my mother and father agreed by saying, "No nigger is coming into this house."
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