Admitting I Am Partly Crazy

Ladies and Gentleman, I have something to announce.

I am an obsessive.

I obsess.

If you know me well enough, this proclamation is the equivalent to announcing that the sky is blue. You already knew this.

But in the case you didn't, my personality throughout my entire existence has lead me around to become extremely passionate about certain subjects for a particular length...and then skip along to the next obsession.

What do I obsess about? Well, the truth is quite embarrassing and can lead to conclusions about me as a person that point to the fact that I am indeed, against everything i was ever told to believe in elementary self esteem sessions, not a genius. Evidence would actually make one inclined to assume that my mental abilities are never to exceed a giddy 8th grade girls.

Thanks to my new co-workers and recent conversations we have had, I have been re-contemplating my past obsessions and for you, my non-existent reader, I have complied a list of my top obsessions through my short life thus far.
But I will break these top 5 obsessions into a multiple article blog, writing a new one every day for the next five days.

Maybe after this list I will have a huge epiphany about who I am and what these obsessions mean for my future, but most likely they will just reconfirm that I am part crazy :

1) John Houston Stockton.



Everyone finds this humorous. I find this nothing of the sort.
The man was my childhood hero and probably the most intense of all my obsessions. I considered making a video for MTV's fanatic (I hope you remember this show) in hopes that I can get on the show and meet my short short wearing hero. I taped over 20 VHS tapes full of Utah Jazz games, I collected sports illustrated articles about this man, I memorized his birthday, career states, and life biography. I can still tell you the names of his children in order of age. I cried when the Utah Jazz didn't win the NBA finals, both years. I was known as the Utah Jazz fan both at my Jr. High School and at High School. I loved John Stockton.

It is creepy.

I only can attribute the intensity of my obsession to the ages at which it occurred. Which was 6th thru 10th grade. Only at such a young and impressionable age in your life, can a love for some hero be so pure and so intense. Think about it, these are the times in most kids lives where they plaster their bedroom walls with some sort of hero/icons face and kiss it goodnight, or praise its worthiness and hope that one day they can grow up to be half the adult they are.

I did both. I was a fan of John Stockton both in a romantic sense, but more so in a "I hope I can be as good of a person as he is" sense. He was loyal, hard-working, strong, modest, made everyone around him better, and very agreeable. Put him against the backdrop of other basketball superstars, he was an outcast because he was old fashioned, dependable, pleasing, a little boring, and kind of nerdy. Kind of like the kid I was, out casted because I simply wanted to do my best and be a good person.


HONORABLE MENTIONS in the SPORTS OBSESSIONS CATAGOREY:
1. Brett Favre (8th grade)
2. Jeff Gordon (9th Grade, yeah...embarrassing I know)
3. Bob Costas ( 6-7th grade)
4. Steve Nash (now, kind of like Stockton I realize but a bit edgier, Canadian, and involved in charity works.)