John Stockton's Basketball Camp (Hope You're Insured)
7:30 P.M. -- land in Salt Lake City for John Stockton's Basketball Camp
11:16 P.M. -- leave the hospital after being treated for asthma because my first time in Utah
11:40 P.M. -- meet John and Nada
12:13 A.M. -- John rolls out a cot in his parents' basement next to his weights for me to sleep.
12:15 A.M. --Mr. Stockton almost f*cks me up with a shotgun when he closes the bar and returns home. I tell him what's going on, all the while Stockton is going "INTRUDER!!! SHOOT HIM, DAD!!!"
0400 hours -- I'm woken up by a whistle noise. Stockton is standing there in a blue and yellow Utah Jazz ensemble with kneesocks. He's yelling at me like a drill sergeant to get up and start running laps. He heaves a white replica Dallas Mavericks home jersey at me with the number 12. He orders me to put it on before I do said laps.
0515 hours -- As I return from my two-and-a-half hour jog, Stockton tells me to now do it backpedalling.
6:30 A.M. -- Stockton can tell I snuck off to McDonalds for breakfast. He can see up to five miles all around, he can see behind things, and is a freaking animal thus can smell where McMuffin on my breath and I even used mouthwash.
7:15 A.M. -- Stockton has us watch the movie "Kickboxer" with Jean Claude Van Damme. "Why are we watching the classic action flick Kickboxer?" I ask. He turns to me very seriously. "My bad," he says. "I thought it was a video on defensive drills."
8:10 A.M. -- Stockton waits until Nada isn't looking, pees on the rug, and then points to their dog. "Bad dog," he says sternly.
8:40 A.M. -- After I'm done clipping Stockton's hedges, we play a game of one-on-one. The referee I assume is this flamboyent dude with shades on. Turns out he's blind.
11:10 A.M. -- I return from the hospital for minor bruises and lacerations. Stockton meanwhile is standing out front with Karl Malone. "So I heard John beat you up," he says and laughs. Karl Malone is kind of an a-hole.
11:22 A.M. -- Dennis Rodman shows up. Malone gets on his motorcycle and speeds away. "What's wrong?" I ask John. "Oh, he's embarrassed," John said. "Because Dennis shuts him down all the time."
11:40 A.M. -- Go to pick a movie in Stockton's DVD collection to watch while we eat our lunch of rudimentary syrup and lettuce. I choose the only other DVD he owns -- "How To Clean Your DVD Player"
2:07 P.M. -- We get back from church and the instant Nada gets inside the house, John comes out with a baseball. I assume he's going to tell a baseball story, figuring he must have been good. "Hey man," he says. "You wanna see something cool?" I say sure. And so he puckers his lips and heaves the baseball through the air, it travels literally past like five houses...seconds pass...and we hear a THUMP and some dude down the street yell "OW!!! WHAT THE F***!"
2:30 P.M. Head back to church for mid-evening services.
7:20 P.M. I ask Stockton if he would do me the honor of watching NBA TV with me because they're honoring him all day and I want to hear him tell me some cool inside stuff about everybody. He says he doesn't have NBA TV. He doesn't even have HBO. Or even cable. I say how about CBS? Big Bang Theory's on. He says he had it blacked out with parental controls and he can't remember the code. I say that's bullcrap. You wouldn't forget a detail no matter how small or seemingly insignificant, you're John Stockton. He puckers his lips because he's concentrating, looking around, and then says I can watch it on the TV in the "viewing room".
7:24 P.M. Stockton has one TV in his house, it's an old Magnavox with rabbit ears, UHF, 8 inches and his parents are watching "New York: An Autobiography" on PBS.
9:00 P.M. Good special.
9:05 P.M. Stockton and Nada and the kids all assemble in the living room and ask if we want to go for ice cream.
10:00 P.M. Stockton takes us to the most extravagent, amazing, ritzy ice cream place you've ever seen. The ice cream and gelato and frozen yogurt are all expensive and there's bells and whistles, you need a reservation, and only politicians and Stockton are allowed, and there's 412 freaking ice cream flavors. Amazing ones with interesting colors I've never seen before.
10:01 P.M. Stockton get Rocky Road and promptly takes a seat.
11:00 P.M. Get ready for midnight church services.
1:34 A.M. On the way home, I win Stockton's kids over with my dead-on impersonation of the Utah Jazz radio announcer. "Tonight uh game 1 the n buh a world champpin' ship. It should be a dandy."
2:04 A.M. Stockton tucks me in and I ask if he'll read me a bedtime story. He tells me that Mark Eaton is hiding under my bed and will eat me, and he's very adament about that. "Frank Layden won't eat him, how do you think he got so skinny?" I'm convinced for the rest of the week that Mark Eaton is under my bed. John Stockton is a trip.
Now go look for the hubs entitled "gornerp" at triond.com for stuff I couldn't put on hubpages.
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