My nose points to my left (your right), and that’s why I play guitar. Well, in a crooked way, I guess, kind of like my nose. I took an elbow in ninth grade basketball, shattering my nose and requiring surgery. The doctors said it was broken in nine places and that it needed a second surgery. Nope! I wasn’t going through that again. Anyone who has had their nose packed for a week can understand why. My mother cried as she watched them “unpack” my nose. It ranks as one of the worst experiences I’ve had.

Anyway, fearing elbows, I laid out of basketball my tenth grade year. And then by my junior year, I wanted to give it another shot. I went to basketball tryouts at First Presbyterian Day School in Macon. I was also a golfer, far better at that than basketball. There was a club that wasn’t too expensive at the time, and I spent much of my childhood walking the hills of Riverside Country Club, dreaming of a pro career. Coach Mac, who was both the basketball and the golf coach, waited for me outside of the gym one day as I walked up after parking my silver, 1981 Cutlass Supreme with a V-8. I doubt I’ll ever own another car with that sort of power.

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