the chicago bulls.

for those of you that don't know me or know me well.  i need to tell you.  

i love the chicago bulls.  

michael jordan.

scottie pippen.

even dennis rodman.

(hey, he can rebound like nobodies bizzzness!)

i used to have posters in my room...okay banners.  remember when the computers printed out banners?  
i had a banner that said, 'michael jordan, #1.' 

my daddy hated that poster.

i touched michael jordan on the hand once.  
it was my left hand.  
i have not washed it since.  ever.

do you believe me?

i said, "can i have your autograph, can i have your autograph?"
he kept walking.

i feel confident he wanted to stop.

maybe he kept walking because of my outfit.  maybe he was embarrassed.  i should have been.


for it consisted of:


a michael jordan bow.  very large in red.
a white sweatshirt with the black silouette of the jumpman on the front.
red jogging pants.

why am i doing this to myself?

why am i telling you all of this?

air jordan socks.
and a small denim purse to top it all off.

i was twelve, okay?

but i left that day having touched the hand of greatness.

an autograph from phil jackson

and bill cartwright.

on my small denim purse.