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    Keepin it Classy
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    In 7th grade, I took a basketball camp nearby where I lived. I wasn’t that good at basketball, but I was moderately tall, could kind of play, and had been there for a few years, so I knew the counselors and stuff. I wasn’t really an ideal camper. Seventh grade me was attempting to grow out a mullet for some reason, which I thought was super badass and spent breaks styling. I got yelled at by coaches for doing Magic Johnson style no look passes during basic passing drills. I wore throwback jerseys to every practice despite being the whitest kid ever, and spent most of my time hitting on this one girl. Me and said girl were in a two on two tournament, which we made it to the finals of despite it consisting of me taking the ball in the post and shoulder ramming my opponent until they moved out of the way. I broke a kids glasses and made him cry doing this, which seventh grade me thought was an opportune time to talk some shit. We got put into teams, and I found myself on a terrible team. A good teammate would use this as an opportunity to improve his squad, but seventh grade me wasn’t a good teammate. We proceeded to have one of the worst records in the camp, with our gameplan consisting of me being a selfish ballhog, jacking up shots, yelling for the ball whenever a teammate had it, and yelling at my teammates for sucking all the time. I got suspended for a game because I made fun of this kid and made him cry, was universally hated by my teammates for being a dick and playing only for my own stats, and our season concluded with me jacking up a buzzer beater, missing, and one of my own teammates running at me and literally throwing punches at me while the clock ran down. I was basically a team cancer who was somewhat talented but in no way equipped to lead a team. I even had those Starbury shoes. Those really shitty ones that were poorly made because Stephon Marbury said they were for people who couldn’t afford high quality sneakers? Yeah, 7th grade me rocked those. A pair of red, white, and blue Starburys that 7th grade me thought was the shit. Combining all of these aspects, seventh grade me was kind of a Stephon Marbury/Marshall Henderson/Shaquille O’Neal/Nick Young/Bob McAdoo/Shawn Kemp hybrid. Except as an annoying white kid.

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