Ray Ray's burst of bitterness about supposedly being as good or better than Curtis Brown and all that other fun stuff made me feel a pang of sympathy for him and all of the athletes who genuinely work their asses off for years and years and end up... w/ nothing to show for it. Surely the impulse is strong to find reasons other than their own inadequate skills/athleticism to explain away why they didn't make the show.
Even some of the Cougar-beloved (Sark and Curtis for instance) have been prone to this.
My closest friend from high school is a documentary maker and about 10 years ago he went up to the weed-obsessed town of Humboldt, CA to catch up with four former star athletes from our high school. Three had been All-Section high school players who got football scholarships, two to D1 schools and one to a smaller school. One of the three had really thought he had the chops to make it to the NFL - he was a TE who was 6'3 220 in high school and clocked a legit 4.6 40. The fourth (the drummer, obviously) had been a .450 hitter on our baseball team who ended up playing baseball at LSU.
Only one of the four had finished their degree or seen significant playing time - that was the non-D1 defensive back. Through some weird gravitation all four of them ended up in Humboldt/Arcata - smoking a lot of weed and forming a band that actually didn't suck. I think it was called Mood Sock.
They went from being cleancut sports stars with shining futures, to being in a jam band with chest length goatees.
My buddy's doc was an exploration of the psychological transition from being the stars and centers of attention in the sports culture of a mid-American town to being disillusioned, pot junkies in a rock band. Honestly don't remember if the doc itself was any good but the problem of the transition is something I find pretty interesting.
Even some of the Cougar-beloved (Sark and Curtis for instance) have been prone to this.
My closest friend from high school is a documentary maker and about 10 years ago he went up to the weed-obsessed town of Humboldt, CA to catch up with four former star athletes from our high school. Three had been All-Section high school players who got football scholarships, two to D1 schools and one to a smaller school. One of the three had really thought he had the chops to make it to the NFL - he was a TE who was 6'3 220 in high school and clocked a legit 4.6 40. The fourth (the drummer, obviously) had been a .450 hitter on our baseball team who ended up playing baseball at LSU.
Only one of the four had finished their degree or seen significant playing time - that was the non-D1 defensive back. Through some weird gravitation all four of them ended up in Humboldt/Arcata - smoking a lot of weed and forming a band that actually didn't suck. I think it was called Mood Sock.
They went from being cleancut sports stars with shining futures, to being in a jam band with chest length goatees.
My buddy's doc was an exploration of the psychological transition from being the stars and centers of attention in the sports culture of a mid-American town to being disillusioned, pot junkies in a rock band. Honestly don't remember if the doc itself was any good but the problem of the transition is something I find pretty interesting.
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