It's All In The Eye(s)

I was telling my father about how his oldest grandson, Asa, really showed out at basketball practice.

How, during a water break, two boys were trying to steal the ball from him and how he just goofed around and toyed with them a bit as they fell all over themselves.

I told my Dad how proud (as his coach and his father) I was of his confidence and focus and ability to have fun with his little 5 and 6-year-old friends. He works hard to be good, and he helps others who are weaker.

My Dad laughed and then, as he's apt to do, drew a semi-sort-of-appertaining comparison. One of those not-so-seamless-but-still-kind-of-related segues.

He told me how there was this guy when he was a teenager who was the best guard at Fairfield Central High School.

This guy, my Dad told me, had crazy eyes. One eye went this-a-way, the other eye went that-a-way. Only one eye was good, but you never could remember which one was real and which one was fake.

Dad told me how this guy just dominated the court, because -- get this -- people would look at his eyes and not know which we he was going.

Now, whether that's actually true or just something to say, I don't know. And I have no idea why my father told me that story in response to me bragging on his grandson.

All I know is, whatever the reason, I'm glad I heard that one.

And I'm going to have to coach the kids on dribbling with their eyes crossed.