There but for the grace of god, goes Lebron James

I love basketball.

I love the athleticism and the grace. I love the player, really. I'm talking about the guy that can flat out play. The guy that can move so quickly that he leaves you standing, or breaks your ankles, or just makes you clumsily reach and grab in a futile effort to stop him. He dares you to stop him, and you can't. I wish I was that guy every time I bounce a ball or clang a miss off the rim, every time I jump as hard as I can and go nowhere.

You know the guy I'm talking about. He's strong, but thin. He's black, usually. He's cool. He's bad ass.

I saw that guy yesterday in the clinic. I know he could do all that I just described and more. Except for two things. One: he's behind bars, locked up. Two: He was shot in the head. Twice. Now he walks slowly, the pace dictated by short-circuited nerve endings. His right leg doesn't cooperate. His head still jukes and feints quickly, but not because he wants it to. He has a scar running the width of his forehead where someone opened him up.

I'm standing in front of him. Close. I'm looking at the scars from the bullets that passed into his right forehead, and he grabs my hand more quickly than I care for him to. It surprises me, not just because he's fast, but because he's gentle. He takes my hand and rubs it across his forehead so I can feel the once-shattered skull and the unnatural contour of what should be smooth bone. I'm slightly embarrassed as I nod my head in clinical appreciation.

He has a book with him, Menace to Society. I ask him if it's the same as the movie, and he says no, it's just stories. We don't say much more. I can't really do anything for him. He says he's getting out soon and not sure where he's heading. Maybe California where he has some family. I renew one of his prescriptions and get him some padded insoles for his feet, which are hurting more than usual since he gave up his cane. He says he's giving up the cane and trying to get stronger. He's even started exercising. I wish him well, and he's gone.