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.

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