Washing machines
Years ago, little Omaha, NE hosted a professional basketball exhibition game sponsored by the bank I worked for. 2003 says the interweb. It featured the Minnesota Timberwolves and their young star, Kevin Garnett. I had a young basketball prodigy of my own, a seven year old son who was burning up the metro YMCA league. Seeing an opportunity to expose him to some of the best ballers in the world, I bought tickets near the floor.
In my head, I imagined him seeing a larger than life superstar under the bright lights hitting step back three pointers, swatting opponent's shots into the stands, and, of course, putting on a dunk show that shook the rafters.
If you've never been to a pro-basketball game, like most professional sports, it's an experience. The players are bigger, faster, stronger, and better than you can imagine. Some people say the pros don't put in an effort, but when you're on the floor with them, they make everything look easy. My son and I settled into our seats, stuffed ourselves with popcorn and soda, and watched these men put on a show which concluded with the superstar seven footer, Kevin Garnett, slamming an impressive dunk home to end the event. It was awesome. I was glowing, my son was sweaty with excitement, and I just knew that he was now inspired to put in the years of practice in the driveway required to be a superstar.
As we waited in the car to exit the auditorium, I looked in the rearview mirror at my flushed but happy boy in the backseat and asked, "Well, what was your favorite part?"
He thought for a minute, then said, "The washing machine."
My mind raced. Washing machine? Was that a nickname for one of the players? The name of the Kevin Garnett windmill dunk?
"What washing machine?" I said.
"You know, the one that was dancing," he said.
The dancing washing machine? I racked my brain, searching my memory bank. "Do you mean the ATM?"
He nodded. The bank had a big box ATM mascot that danced in front of us during timeouts, throwing foam balls and tshirts into the stands. Eighty bucks worth of tickets and his favorite part was the dancing box?
"Yeah," I said, "the dancing washing machine was great."
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