Tuesday, March 15, 2011

The Ides of March

1.  Meaning - the middle of March.

2.  Closely associated with the assassination of Julius Caesar.

3.  Immortalized by William Shakespeare when he penned "Beware the ides of March" in his play named for the slain leader. 

4.  Immortalized for me in two things:  basketball and "young love".  (No, not basketball as in that NCAA tournament that's got everyone filling out brackets instead of working today in my office.  Including me.)

Every year, when the 15th of March rolls around, I am taken back to Veteran's Auditorium in Des Moines, Iowa, where my high school was playing in the boys state basketball tournament.  I think that was the day that my love for watching Red Oak basketball was born.  It compelled me to first be a cheerleader in junior high and then later for our varsity boys.  Eventually I found more joy in cheering from the crowd.  During my senior year in high school, I think I made it to nearly every game, always sitting with my friends in the front row.  And always following traditions that most certainly determined the outcome of the game.  I've often tried to get that same passion for basketball while watching another team, or even during March Madness, but the same magic is just not there.  And while I could go on for an entire post about how basketball took over my high school experience, that's just not what this day is about. 

You see, even though I remember being at the state basketball tournament this day, I don't remember much about the game.  I had a good reason, though. 

It was the day I got my first boyfriend.

If you think about the Subway commercial that features a fully grown adult woman talking in a very childish voice to a fully grown adult man who sounds equally juvenile you'll have the basic idea of how the conversation went. 

Of course I was sure that day I had found the love that would take me from "will you be my boyfriend" to happily ever after.  Instead I got a few of months of sitting together on the bus and talking on the phone at night until mom picked up to tell me to go to bed (and then talking ten more minutes before she told me again). 

Eventually this boy and I grew up and realized we were better friends than anything else.  Now he's grown and married with a family and I realize what a special person he was then and is now.  I was lucky to be sitting next to him at that tournament 21 years ago.  So maybe it's not so strange that I think of him every March 15th.  Maybe some people just touch us in a way that we never forget. 

By the way, my team lost 77-42. 


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