10:35pm. The Phone Rings. Coach answers.
It is his mother (Gramma).
Gramma: What game was it that you were playing blah blah blah and scored blah blah blah. Was that the game they asked you to play Varsity as a Freshman or was that the blah blah....?
Coach: I scored 42 pts at blah blah during my sophomore year the freshman game I scored blah blah, during blah blah quarter...
(Conversation continues for several minutes..)
Gramma: Ok... me and dad were just having a debate about which game they blah blah Varsity blah blah... points scored... blah blah... you are amazing blah... so glad you are my superstar son blah blah...
Coach: I really AM amazing.. blah... call anytime to talk about my awesomeness... blah... I remember every single basket, as if those moments were the greatest of my life.. blah.
I interrupt from the corner:
Why don't you ask you mother, to ask you...if you can remember on what evening, our garbage man picks up our garbage, on the same night each and every week.... I'll bet that detail, escapes your memory.
They laugh and giggle about how sarcastic I am!! Ha... your wife is amusing... blah... she's no star like you... blah. Thanks again for being born, son... you are our shining light... blah.. blah.
They hang up.
Coach re-enters the room:
Weird, of mom to be the one, to call about that.
Me: You know what's really weird? Usually, when a 66 year old parent calls a child's home after 10:35pm, on a week night... it's to tell them someone died.
NOT to discuss their high school basketball game.