If You're Good At It, And You

But Something Magical Happened To Me When I Went To Reardan. Overnight I Became A Good Player. I Suppose It Had Something To Do With Confidence. I Mean, I'd Always Been The Lowest Indian On The Reservation Totem Pole - I Wasn't Expected To Be Good So I Wasn't. But In Reardan, My Coach And The Other Players Wanted Me To Be Good. They Needed Me To Be Good. They Expected Me To Be Good. And So I Became Good. I Wanted To Live Up To The Expectations. I Guess That's What It Comes Down To. The Power Of Expectations. And As They Expected More Of Me, I Expected More Of Myself, And It Just Grew And Grew.

Like Any Good Shaman, Professional Baseball Player, Or Politician, My Mother Always Answered Questions With Questions.

Books And Beer Are The Best And Worst Defense.

Last September 16th, I Was Walking In Downtown Seattle When This Pick-up Truck Pulls Up In Front Of Me. Guy Leans Out The Window And Yells, "go Back To Your Own Country," And I Was Laughing So Hard Because It Wasn't So Much A Hate Crime As A Crime Of Irony.

I'm Quite Aware Of My Differences. I Wouldn't Classify Them As Weird