I am Retro?

I apologize to take a break from the Olympic games, but the ice was bumpy and I am having some personal problems that have become distractions. I feel these are affecting my work and I hope to reflect on my problem. Besides if you can wait for a cauldron to come out of the ground you can indulge my quick detour.


Maybe I am having a quarter-life crisis, but I have become very disturbed of late thanks to an NBA team and their jerseys. MLB, NBA, and NFL have always had turn back the clock nights, throwback jerseys, old school uniforms, AFL nights etc. etc. all in the name of paying respect to former teams, players, leagues, and most important the all-mighty dollar. I have always enjoyed these nights and thought it was a nice thought for pro athletes to pay respect to their predecessors and to let fans spend more of their hard earned cash on these oldies, but goodies. However, my opinion of these old-time uniforms changed forever a couple of weeks ago.

While watching a basketball game on TNT, which really means waiting for the half-time show with EJ, Charles, and Kenny, my wife brought me quickly into a state of depression. What transpired has kept me up at nights since. Not only has this moment plagued my sleep, it has lead to poor eating habits and destroyed my desire to exercise. It was so traumatic it is still difficult to discuss, but I will do my best. Some of you are probably asking if it is so painful why do I write. Two reasons really: I hope that my expression will provide some sort of therapy; and I hope that my pain will somehow make others similarly miserable, after all misery loves company.

What happened is this, while enjoying my wait for halftime and watching Vince Carter take a jump shot my wife says, “Hun, who is playing?”.

“Orlando Magic.” I mumbled.

“Really?”

“Yeah, you just don’t recognize them because they are wearing retro jerseys.”

“Retro?”

“Yeah like old jerseys.”

Her retort is the root of most if not all of my psychological problems since, at least that is what the therapist thinks.

“I know what retro jerseys are. I was asking because they look like the ones the magic wore when we were kids.”

This hit me like a box of bricks. She was right. The jerseys were from the early 90’s. How was this possible retro jerseys were being introduced from when I was a kid.

Looking at my face she laughed and said, “I guess you’re retro.”

I am now retro. It is not bad enough to celebrate your ten-year reunion while you are still in school, now teams are wearing OLD jerseys from when I was a kid. I no longer have a feeling of freedom and joy. Like the jersey that represents my era, I am only talked about a few times a year when I am pulled out of the archives, dusted off, and get in the game or in reference to the past.

Those of you touched by this story please make a donation to my retirement or therapy fund, cash, money order, check, or credit cards will be accepted regardless of age. We try not to discriminate. For all of you who are now filling pain, I am truly sorry. I thought this would make me feel better or I would find comradeship in your suffering. I was wrong. If I don’t write tomorrow I hope you will understand.