For the Love of the Game…and my momThe third week of June 2008, two very big events took place: the end of the NBA playoffs and my mom visited me in Santa Monica. Both events brought a little pleasure and pain. The pleasing part of the playoffs was watching the Lakers get to game six, the painful part: the loss. Ow! Sorry Laker fans.
My editor asked if I had a recipe to fix a broken heart. At first I thought, “Who hurt him? Poor thing”. But then he admitted that his heart was broken over the Laker’s, not over the loss of Love. So typical of a man, to be more upset over sports than a woman. I can’t really judge though, B-ball is or was my game. I played most of my young life until I hit high school measuring in at only a bit above five feet tall. I simply could not hang, so I hung up my “semi-pro” sneaks and opted for powerfliting. I still shoot hoops though, even perfected my three pointer.







