Now for the real kicker, that I left out intentionally... she had gotten her mission call before leaving to Wisconsin for the summer. So to summarize the entire fiasco up to this point in a single sentence... She cheated on me, felt guilty, finally told me, turned down her mission call, married the guy she cheated on me with, and moved back to Arizona.
3 months later I returned home for a break between semesters and attended my home ward. Much to my chagrin she and her husband had not only journeyed back to Arizona, but were now full pledged members of my home ward. To say that the first time seeing them was akward would be the understatement of modern time.
Well now... what would a yearbook be without some photos? This first one was taken by my friend Megan, who eventually chalked herself up as my second "real" girlfriend, but you'll have to wait for the 2006 yearbook for that story! This picture, to me, defines my life. Simply put, I fly by the seat of my pants!
Intramurals at BYU-Idaho run about as smooth as a car with no tires. From completely inexperienced referees to weekly scheduling errors that cause teams to stand out in below freezing temperatures for 20 minutes waiting for a game to start only to find out that the intramural office forgot to call and tell you your game was cancelled. I've lost track of how many times this "convienant" error on their part has occured over the last 6 years.
In 2002, when Ricks College became 4 Year University and changed to BYU-Idaho they did away with all of their sports programs. They continued with intramurals but the school was packed with incredible athletes starving for a way to stand out. Their solution was inappropriately called, the competitive sports program. Inappropriate because the competition has been anything but competitive since the program was instituted. Never the less I decided to give the "competitive" basketball league a shot. My team was decent, nothing to brag about off the court, but decent. The refs however, were everything but decent. I swear to you they were the most inexperienced, completely unkowledgeable excuse for officials that the school could scrounge up.
Now for the story ya'll have been dying to hear. The one about me being "politely removed" from a basketball game for the third time in my life. But first let me debrief you on the other two times I was a bit out of control and had to be sent out!
Growing up I played basketball in all kinds of leagues, but the Boys and Girls Club was by far my favorite. It seemed to have the most talent. This coming from the mind of the youngest talent scout in the league... ME! HAHA! But seriously, I can still recall some classic moments in the Boys and Girls Club, like the first time I dunked a basketball! However, no memory is more classic than the time I was kicked out of a game. It began with a typical technical foul for arguing a call. The foul call I was arguing also happened to be my 5th foul of the game, so I had officially fouled out. The personal disappointment of fouling out in combination with receiving a technical foul led me to rip my jersey off and chuck it into the stands. Much to my surprise I heard another whistle and the same clown off a referee signaled for another technical foul and screamed in my face, "Get out of the gym!" hahahaha.
So there you go, that was the first time. The second time being kicked out took place at where else, a church basketball game. The unique thing about this experience is I wasn't playing, I was coaching the 12-17 year old young men. Words cannot truly do this story justice but I'll give it my best shot. There happened to be only one referee in this game so naturally I gave him a new level of sympathy. Unfortunately my level of sympathy didn't last very long. The pathetic excuse for a ref never walked more than 5 feet on either side of half court. Meaning he attempted to a ref the entire game while standing at half court. There are two, 20 minute halves in church basketball. He did not call a SINGLE foul for the first 38 minutes of the game. NOT A SINGLE ONE! Kids were getting tripped, hit, run over, and flat out hammered, with zero consequnce.
Finally, after a kid was pretty much thrown to the ground with 2 minutes left in the game he blew the whistle. I spent the next 30 seconds sarcastically complimenting the ref on finally blowing the whistle. Shortly after I started exchanging words with the referee, who happened to be half my size and three times my age. I dared him on more than one occasion to physically remove me from the gym. You could tell he was thinking about it but instead told me over and over again I needed to leave and he wouldn't restart the game until I was gone. I'm glad he exercised some self-control and didn't lay a hand on me because I would have felt pretty bad if I punched a man who wears shorts that sit above his knees. I eventually left to please the masses, but it took me a while to cool down.
Now for the third time... the most memorable of them all. If you look at the picture below you'll notice I have 15 stiches and a missing eyebrow. I wish I could say it came from a wicked fight but it came from something a bit less dramatic. I was playing in a competitive basketball game and I was basically run over by the other teams star player. In the process we collided heads. Well, more of his head and my eye. My eye busted open and started pooring blood like a faucet. The kid who ran me over layed on the floor holding his head. Everyone else? Unfortunately, (and to the credit of the referees) everyone else was running down to the other end of the court. Play continued for a good 15 seconds while me and that kid laid on the other end of the court. One of the refs finally blew the whistle and decided they better stop the game.
By this point my hands were cupped under my eye quickly filling up with blood until I gave up and just threw it all over the court and let out a stran of cuss words. I started to get really faint as I made my way to the sideline just in time to here one of the refs say, "Why are we stopping the game?" I turned to him, pointed at my eye and screamed and said "I don't know you freekin retard, possibly because I was just run over and my eye got busted open and I just dumped a handful of blood on the court?!?!" Can you guess what happened next? Yup, I was "politely removed" from that game too. Not that I wasn't on my way out anyways... on my way out to the hospital!
So here ya go, a low quality picture of my 15 stitches and missing eyebrow!
I'm not sure if having one eyebrow looked better with the stitches in or the stitches out. My vote is for "in" because people looked at me and said, "dang dude your eye is jacked up" and everyone wanted to know the story. But after the stitches came out people saw me and thought, "Why the crap did that kid only shave one eyebrow?" Never the less it made for some interesting pics like this one...
Over the past 11 semesters I have vented plenty about BYU-Idaho, and about how lame the town of Rexburg is, but my intention is never to make you think I hate everything about Idaho. I love the outdoors, and Idaho's got more outdoor activities than I know what to do with. On top of having plenty to do, mother nature helps Idaho produce some of the greatest sunset's I've ever seen. My camera fails to do these sunsets justice but here are a few from 2005. The first two were taken from the porch of my uncle's cabin, and the third was taken from outside my apartment.