The sun rose early that day as I sprung from my bed knowing what the day was about to bring. The same routine, nothing drastic, maintained status knowing what was about to occur.
As I showered, I thought about what I was about to embark upon. I debated with myself whether or not the means would justify the end, or if I should have traveled a different path.
I brushed my teeth and the debate continued. Is this worth it, I thought, can I really do this, or am I not meant for this sort of pressure. I thought, am I Curt Schilling?
I stroked my cat and hypothetically asked, “Is it my time cat, or am I not ready for this?” Meow was the reply.
I began to dress myself knowing what was coming at the end, but continued nonetheless. I felt like a hero. Like nothing could stop me. Like I was Curt Schilling.
So I continued, Underwear. Pants. Undershirt. Shirt. Tuck. Belt. Just like every other day.
Contacts. Towel Dry hair. Pomade. Nothing had changed.
I grabbed my socks knowing what came next.
It was time to be Curt Schilling.
The socks slid on my feet as delicate as ever. Like a sheepskin on human flesh. Glorious.
I grabbed my new (first) pair of Allen Edmond shoes and slid them on over my socks using a fancy contraption only a man ready for this moment would know how to use.
I felt like Curt Schilling.
I took my first step and let out a whimper, a cry. I knew my moment was here. I knew I was Curt Schilling.
I took my second step *whimper* and said to myself, “Asok, your team needs you today. Don’t let them down.”
I walked to my car, and drove to the office. Besides the pain of the new shoes, all I could think is, I am Curt Schilling.
I got to the office, booted up my computer. I looked it straight in the LCD and said “Not today computer. Today I am Curt Schilling”
That day, those 11 hours, I was the best accountant on the face of the earth. That day I transfer priced, accounted for, and saved taxes in so many places that only Curt Schilling would understand.
That day I was Curt Schilling.
When the whistle finally blew I looked down at the new shoes not knowing what to expect. I knew the shoes were what made this day possible.
At that moment I saw a spot. A red one. On my heel. I knew right away what it was.
I knew why it happened, and I knew why it didn’t bother me.
It was because, for that one day, I was Curt Schilling.