The Jazz just started their 4 game east coast trip. Last night they played the Miami Heat. As all sport fans know the Heat are the team to beat. With Bosh and Lebron and D. Wade any team that beats them has the privilege to boast. At half time the Jazz were looking poor. At one time they were down by 22! In the third quarter. They stepped it up. They cut the lead and in the 4th they took a lead of 2 points going down the stretch. Then the game turned upside down and the Heat were back up by 8. The fouling began. Then Millsap began. In his NBA career he has recorded 2 three pointers. In the final thirty seconds of the 4th quarter Millsap hit 3 three-pointers and hit the game tying shot with no time left to send it into over time. His 11 points in under thirty seconds is hard to come by. At the end of the game Elson, a pick up in the offseason, hit two game winning free throws to top the Heat. After the game Millsap comments, "I knew I could play. Everyone knew I could play,'' he said. "It was just a matter of getting the chance to do it all the time.''
This evening my brother Travis, huge jazz fan, stopped in from Salt Lake. He greeted me and left quickly. Later on I walk in my room to find a note, on my pillow, with Travis's unmistakable handwriting. "Be a warrior like Millsap," It read. I think this will be my mission's motto.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
My Personal Basketball: A Dad's Silent Love
Basketball runs in my veins. I came from my father. Therefore my veins come from my father. Hence forth basketball has direct connection to my father. I grew up with the name that others feared. The named of Pilling. I recall one night at the church where a mom told her child not to challenge me in basketball because I'm a Pilling. I guess we have somewhat of a corner market.
Peter Pilling grew up fatherless. At times I wonder how he did it? Who taught him how to fill up gas? or put air in the tires? Who was there at his church events? Who gave him high fives? Who would take him up to Idaho to go fly fishing? I couldn't bare the thought of living without my dad. I don't know how he did it.
I attended Canyon View Junior High 7th through 9th grade. In P.E., which I took every year and sometimes twice, my basketball team would win every tournament. I would be the king of the court. I regret not trying out for the school basketball team.
Next year was different I was now attending Meridian School a private school in Provo. There were no cuts from the basketball. They had try-outs just to say that they did. This year I could make a difference, I knew I could lead a team. Around the time of try-outs I was in my Sophomore English class being taught by Mr. Kennington, aka Mr. K., He played basketball as well. He shared with us a story, which we later found out to be a personal story, about a kid who grew up playing basketball. In the story his dad, the bishop of his ward at the time, would set up chairs in the gymnasium for Mr. K. to do drills with while he would attend to bishop's work. The story jumps to high school where Mr. K's dad would never miss a game. He saw every shot taken, every rebound every hustle play. It was the region finals. Mr. K was on the line to put his team ahead in the waning seconds of the game. He glanced to his dad's spot in the stands. It was empty. But he had just been there. Where could dad have gone? He stumbled off the rafters and had a heart attack that killed him. His dad died behind the bleachers. Mr. K's dad died while he was making the biggest free throws of his career.
That story struck me hard. I love my dad. My grandpa Rex, dad's dad, died when my dad was nine years old. When I was nine years old it was the longest breath I've ever held. It was as if the age nine was jinxed and if I made it to ten my dad wouldn't die. When I turned ten my breath was released. I made it. When my little sister was nine I held my breath just the same as I did when I was that age. I didn't want to lose my dad then, nor ever.
During my Sophomore year at Meridian my best friend now and forever, Harrison, was not so good at basketball at the time. I walked into the coach, after try-outs, and told him that I'd like to play and practice with the JV squad because I knew Harrison would be on that team. At practice I was the best. No one else came close to my basketball knowledge. The season did not go so well for me or the team. We were not good. I rarely played in the JV games at the beginning of the year, but towards the end of the season I was starting, and averaging a solid 10 points a game with 2 threes a game. I was making a difference. I consider the decision to practice with the lower squad to be the most regretted decision of my life. If I could have one thing back it would be to practice with the Varsity team.
My junior year I followed Harrison to Karl G. Maeser Preparatory Academy in Lindon. Try outs for this year seemed to be different. Five kids were cut from the team. Although we only played in a charter school league it was still basketball. We started out 1-5. We had a coaching problem which led to the entire team walking out of an unfinished game. We made some changes and I was now a starter. With our record at 1-7 we were on track to play against the undefeated team Pinnacle. All other teams couldn't even come close to winning against them. They came on our home court and our scrappy 1-7 team beat them. Averaging 12 a game with great rebounds and some nice shooting. The game that we had previously walked out on was against Independence. We were back on their court again and we meant business. I got a double-double. Which means double digits in either scoring, assists, steals, blocks and rebounds. I had 13 points and 12 rebounds. I played big. My dad was there and I remember how he always sat the same. His legs crossed with his elbow resting on his top leg. He would rest his head on his hand and would have the smug look of a basketball critic. After each game I would receive a knuckle bump and a "Nice Job." He never told me what I did wrong. That bothered me. I wanted to be better. But he knew, and I knew, that I could only learn if I learned from myself. So I did. I analyzed my game as I played the game. We ended up my junior year with a record of 8-8 and lost in the second round of the tournament.
Senior year. My dad challenged me to score 10 points in one game. This year was the first year that Maeser was in 2a varsity. This was going to be a challenge. On the year we went 1-15. Not I-15 the road but ONE and fifteen. It was the second to last home game. Nothing spectacular about this game. But I loved playing at home. When we were at home the fans were great supporters. They knew we weren't doing great but we had pride. Lion Pride. We could be down 50-20 and I would make a three. The crowd, especially the student section, would go wild! I loved basketball for that reason. So in this game against North Summit I was shooting pretty good. Had a couple shots on target and a pair of threes. I was going to make it to 10. I got the ball on the wing. Pump fake. Fade away shot? Swooshed it. Running down the court I knew my statistics. I had hit ten. I looked up to my dad in his spot, with his legs crossed. I had done it. I flashed all ten of my fingers to him. We both knew I had made my goal. A measly ten points Cj? You're right. Thats not much, but it still brings tears to my eyes knowing that I made my dad proud. He gave an extra knuckle touch after that game. I had made him proud too.
So what? I didn't hit game winning free throws. My dad didn't die while I was on the court. But I didn't need that to happen to make a change in my life. I got my glory and I will forever cherish the feeling of love and pride coming from my own father.
Peter Pilling grew up fatherless. At times I wonder how he did it? Who taught him how to fill up gas? or put air in the tires? Who was there at his church events? Who gave him high fives? Who would take him up to Idaho to go fly fishing? I couldn't bare the thought of living without my dad. I don't know how he did it.
I attended Canyon View Junior High 7th through 9th grade. In P.E., which I took every year and sometimes twice, my basketball team would win every tournament. I would be the king of the court. I regret not trying out for the school basketball team.
Next year was different I was now attending Meridian School a private school in Provo. There were no cuts from the basketball. They had try-outs just to say that they did. This year I could make a difference, I knew I could lead a team. Around the time of try-outs I was in my Sophomore English class being taught by Mr. Kennington, aka Mr. K., He played basketball as well. He shared with us a story, which we later found out to be a personal story, about a kid who grew up playing basketball. In the story his dad, the bishop of his ward at the time, would set up chairs in the gymnasium for Mr. K. to do drills with while he would attend to bishop's work. The story jumps to high school where Mr. K's dad would never miss a game. He saw every shot taken, every rebound every hustle play. It was the region finals. Mr. K was on the line to put his team ahead in the waning seconds of the game. He glanced to his dad's spot in the stands. It was empty. But he had just been there. Where could dad have gone? He stumbled off the rafters and had a heart attack that killed him. His dad died behind the bleachers. Mr. K's dad died while he was making the biggest free throws of his career.
That story struck me hard. I love my dad. My grandpa Rex, dad's dad, died when my dad was nine years old. When I was nine years old it was the longest breath I've ever held. It was as if the age nine was jinxed and if I made it to ten my dad wouldn't die. When I turned ten my breath was released. I made it. When my little sister was nine I held my breath just the same as I did when I was that age. I didn't want to lose my dad then, nor ever.
During my Sophomore year at Meridian my best friend now and forever, Harrison, was not so good at basketball at the time. I walked into the coach, after try-outs, and told him that I'd like to play and practice with the JV squad because I knew Harrison would be on that team. At practice I was the best. No one else came close to my basketball knowledge. The season did not go so well for me or the team. We were not good. I rarely played in the JV games at the beginning of the year, but towards the end of the season I was starting, and averaging a solid 10 points a game with 2 threes a game. I was making a difference. I consider the decision to practice with the lower squad to be the most regretted decision of my life. If I could have one thing back it would be to practice with the Varsity team.
My junior year I followed Harrison to Karl G. Maeser Preparatory Academy in Lindon. Try outs for this year seemed to be different. Five kids were cut from the team. Although we only played in a charter school league it was still basketball. We started out 1-5. We had a coaching problem which led to the entire team walking out of an unfinished game. We made some changes and I was now a starter. With our record at 1-7 we were on track to play against the undefeated team Pinnacle. All other teams couldn't even come close to winning against them. They came on our home court and our scrappy 1-7 team beat them. Averaging 12 a game with great rebounds and some nice shooting. The game that we had previously walked out on was against Independence. We were back on their court again and we meant business. I got a double-double. Which means double digits in either scoring, assists, steals, blocks and rebounds. I had 13 points and 12 rebounds. I played big. My dad was there and I remember how he always sat the same. His legs crossed with his elbow resting on his top leg. He would rest his head on his hand and would have the smug look of a basketball critic. After each game I would receive a knuckle bump and a "Nice Job." He never told me what I did wrong. That bothered me. I wanted to be better. But he knew, and I knew, that I could only learn if I learned from myself. So I did. I analyzed my game as I played the game. We ended up my junior year with a record of 8-8 and lost in the second round of the tournament.
Senior year. My dad challenged me to score 10 points in one game. This year was the first year that Maeser was in 2a varsity. This was going to be a challenge. On the year we went 1-15. Not I-15 the road but ONE and fifteen. It was the second to last home game. Nothing spectacular about this game. But I loved playing at home. When we were at home the fans were great supporters. They knew we weren't doing great but we had pride. Lion Pride. We could be down 50-20 and I would make a three. The crowd, especially the student section, would go wild! I loved basketball for that reason. So in this game against North Summit I was shooting pretty good. Had a couple shots on target and a pair of threes. I was going to make it to 10. I got the ball on the wing. Pump fake. Fade away shot? Swooshed it. Running down the court I knew my statistics. I had hit ten. I looked up to my dad in his spot, with his legs crossed. I had done it. I flashed all ten of my fingers to him. We both knew I had made my goal. A measly ten points Cj? You're right. Thats not much, but it still brings tears to my eyes knowing that I made my dad proud. He gave an extra knuckle touch after that game. I had made him proud too.
So what? I didn't hit game winning free throws. My dad didn't die while I was on the court. But I didn't need that to happen to make a change in my life. I got my glory and I will forever cherish the feeling of love and pride coming from my own father.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Lightning in the City
Have you ever been apart of a winning team? Better yet a winning city? I used to live in Pennsylvania so I have a lot of pride for their sport teams. Their football team, the Philadelphia Eagles, baseball- Phillies and hockey the Flyers. This year the Flyers were ranked 7th in the NHL playoffs. They made it to the Stanley Cup championship. This year the Phillies are in the National League Division Series. This means they are one series away from going to the World Series of baseball. To top it all off the Eagles are leading their division. In 2008 the Phillies won the world series and brought back a trophy to Philadelphia. Previous to this year there had been a 25 year drought of no champions in Philadelphia. October 29th 2008 will be a date Philadelphians will be remembering for a long time. If you have seen the movie "Invincible" starring Mark Wahlburg then you know the how much a sports team can effect a city, town or even state.
When I think of some of the best days in my life I think of great sport games I've seen. I think of when I have my kids and grand kids I'll be able to tell them "I was at that game," or "I watched that game on TV." I know they'll seem impressed because I'm impressed when my dad recalls great games he watched in his day. I think that the unity that sport teams bring could be a hint of heaven. I hope they have sports up there.
When I think of some of the best days in my life I think of great sport games I've seen. I think of when I have my kids and grand kids I'll be able to tell them "I was at that game," or "I watched that game on TV." I know they'll seem impressed because I'm impressed when my dad recalls great games he watched in his day. I think that the unity that sport teams bring could be a hint of heaven. I hope they have sports up there.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Sports Issue
Do children need sports in their lives? What affect does it have on raising a child? Does the outcome of positive encouragement and success correlate with self-confidence in coming years. My two brothers and I all played sports from infants to our high school days. We each played sports such as soccer, basketball, and track. Although church ball was always big in our family we each had dreams of making the big dance. My brothers and I each have a sense of personal pride that connects to our self-confidence. This isn't bad pride, its the kind of pride each person needs to be successful. And I think the more self-confidence you have the more successful in life you can be. Basically I want to research why and how sports can affect us so much, especially in our youth.
I guess I need help on how it connects to media?
I guess I need help on how it connects to media?
Monday, October 4, 2010
B[ra1n]
Think about it. I sit here at my computer with the window letting rain, light and thunder in. At the same time listening to OneRepublic (EveryoneLovesME- OneRepublic for those in need up a pick me up). I just was over on the Geneva, Switzerland blogspot looking at their videos they post every month. I felt the Spirit comfort me and let me know that one day I'll be there and that I will be doing the right thing. We just had general conference but that post will be for another time. This post is to simply put to fact that I love being happy. What makes me happy? Lets put it this way Good New Life. Rain. Family. Friends. Best friends. Church. (Everything with church. That would've been a blog in itself) The concept of happiness. Cars. Being alone. Being with others. Graduating felt good. Listening. Speaking. Laughing. Smiles. The list goes on. Snickers. Better yet!-- Baby ruth-- the fun size. Pillows. Pillow cases. Pictures. Mom. Sports. Dad. The list goes on. Think of this list as star wars. You know how they tell half the story in the beginning credits ? Where the words start from space and end no where and somehow the camera captured it? Its a wonder.
This is just the beginning. Never think you are your best because just around the corner is waiting to be discovered.
This is just the beginning. Never think you are your best because just around the corner is waiting to be discovered.
Keep it Jazz.
September 29, 2010
I attended the Jazz Showcase. Enjoyable? Yes. Rhythmic? Without a doubt.
The performers swayed with their muse. The crowd tapped with their feet. As jazz does--solos came with each number. All eyes of the crowd moving to and fro while some eyes stayed set on one performer. It was with ease to lose trains of thought that became jazz induced dreams. One could notice that all who spoke through the microphone had a sense of humor about. Jazz is a joyful sound that creates bliss. I do not 'fluff' my writing, I simply write what I hear and think. It was easy to think with jazz flowing through the mind. Coming into the showcase I did not think that I would be changed by the music. I wasn't. I was flattered though. I enjoyed the emotions, the flow and the rhythm that accompanied jazz. To think twice of jazz would be unlawful. It is what it is.
I attended the Jazz Showcase. Enjoyable? Yes. Rhythmic? Without a doubt.
The performers swayed with their muse. The crowd tapped with their feet. As jazz does--solos came with each number. All eyes of the crowd moving to and fro while some eyes stayed set on one performer. It was with ease to lose trains of thought that became jazz induced dreams. One could notice that all who spoke through the microphone had a sense of humor about. Jazz is a joyful sound that creates bliss. I do not 'fluff' my writing, I simply write what I hear and think. It was easy to think with jazz flowing through the mind. Coming into the showcase I did not think that I would be changed by the music. I wasn't. I was flattered though. I enjoyed the emotions, the flow and the rhythm that accompanied jazz. To think twice of jazz would be unlawful. It is what it is.
Monday, September 20, 2010
[Sarcasm]
Since this is my blog I believe I have the right to type anything I want.
Today the object is "sarcasm." You could be sarcastic. You can sarcasm. You will be sarcasmed. Saying this word a lot makes an excellent point of the foolishness of the english language. In all sense I enjoy sarcasm and the english language. I look at myself from the outside and see a college student. I didn't expect much but I'm glad I fulfilled requirements. During my lustrous high school career, teachers often stared at me in disbelief after I made comments. Their questioned looks led to a nice grin on my face. After my grin they teacher would say, "I can never tell if your serious." I find this to relate to sarcasm because sarcasm and serious both start with the letter 's'. Since receiving this assignment from Sister Steadman I have noticed I can't help but enjoy the humor which I bring to the table. It is very aggravating to others yet it pleasures me. This humor is located everywhere you look for it. The smart and the less smarter. But you see it takes a smarter person to get it. And a lesser to not get it.
After writing this blog I realized the foolishness of this word. Sarcasm. Who would've thought we would be writing about it.
My data concludes that I don't think I would be very funny without sarcasm. I float like a butterfly and when opportunity knocks I sting like a bee. Sarcasm is not to be fiddled with.
Today the object is "sarcasm." You could be sarcastic. You can sarcasm. You will be sarcasmed. Saying this word a lot makes an excellent point of the foolishness of the english language. In all sense I enjoy sarcasm and the english language. I look at myself from the outside and see a college student. I didn't expect much but I'm glad I fulfilled requirements. During my lustrous high school career, teachers often stared at me in disbelief after I made comments. Their questioned looks led to a nice grin on my face. After my grin they teacher would say, "I can never tell if your serious." I find this to relate to sarcasm because sarcasm and serious both start with the letter 's'. Since receiving this assignment from Sister Steadman I have noticed I can't help but enjoy the humor which I bring to the table. It is very aggravating to others yet it pleasures me. This humor is located everywhere you look for it. The smart and the less smarter. But you see it takes a smarter person to get it. And a lesser to not get it.
After writing this blog I realized the foolishness of this word. Sarcasm. Who would've thought we would be writing about it.
My data concludes that I don't think I would be very funny without sarcasm. I float like a butterfly and when opportunity knocks I sting like a bee. Sarcasm is not to be fiddled with.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
A Child of God - Eyring 1
To me the greatest characteristic of a great learner is that 'great learners help other people.' I've been watching a documentary on a football team camp. In the camp there is a fierce battle for the starting position of a Defensive Back. There is a rookie and a veteran in the running for this position. The thing that makes this story so great is that even though it is the veteran's job at stake, he still encourages and teaches the rookie how to best play the position.
Two of the greatest characteristics of teaching are service and love. Through helping others in the conquest of learning and we are giving service, and when we give service we love. Elder Eyring put it best when he said "Because of that you will find that the best learners make the best company." The reason? Because of their love and service.
Two of the greatest characteristics of teaching are service and love. Through helping others in the conquest of learning and we are giving service, and when we give service we love. Elder Eyring put it best when he said "Because of that you will find that the best learners make the best company." The reason? Because of their love and service.
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