Grace Daley's Player's Diary



Feb. 25, 2000

Greetings Green Wave Fans!

WOW! It's been a long time since I've written one of these diary entries! We're 23-3 right now and we're about to bring the regular season to a close. We haven't played in a week, so not much has been going on.

We were doing the scouting report today for Sunday's game against Southern Mississippi and I was thinking how funny it was that about 80% of the time you can guess a players tendencies on the basketball court by what color they are. You know the usual stereotypical scouting report - white girls are shooters and they usually have a nice pull-up jumper in case you rush their shot, and black girls are athletic and they love to put the ball on the floor. In short, they're slashers who love to jump.

When I was thinking about that (stereotypes and what not), a story came to my mind. It's not a basketball story, but if you've got time it'll be worth reading because we can all learn from it. Okay -- we're about to go back in time to when I was about seven years old. I was playing in the backyard with a friend of mine named Heather.

We arrived at the door of my house barely recognizable to my mom. Our shirts were stretched and ripped in some places, our knees were covered in dirt, and our faces were muddy and streaky - we had attempted to wash them in the lake with our dirty hands. Needless to say, we were both sent off to the shower immediately! Heather went first then I went after her.

When I was done, my mom yelled to us from the dining room that we had better be absolutely sure that our hands were clean before we even thought about coming to the table. First I looked at Heather's hands. They seemed to be very clean -- bright and white -- not a speck of dirt. Then Heather said, "Let me check your hands now." I held my hands out in front of her, palms up.

She gave me a weird, bewildered look. "What's the matter?" I asked. "I just washed them, I'll do it again to prove it." I washed my hands again right there in front of her and then held them out, palms up, for inspection.

This time she had an even more puzzled look on her face. "What now?!?!" I said with a bit of irritation in my voice. I was hungry! Then Heather asked, looking at me as if I had performed some sort of magic trick, "Well what's that black stuff in the lines of your hands? If you hurry up and wash that out, we can eat!"

I looked down at my hands, wondering what on earth Heather was seeing. When I saw what she saw, I began laughing hysterically! Then when Heather caught on to the joke, she said, "Oh yeah! I forgot that you were black!"

Heather probably doesn't even remember the incident, or even what she said for that matter. She simply began laughing when she realized that the black lines in the palms of my hands were there to stay and we went on playing.

I just hope that someday people will become child-like in their ways of thinking and learn to "forget" like Heather. Not just "forget" about color, but about everything judgmental that doesn't help build people's character. It's just too bad that those people who choose to take a stand and "forget" and go on playing are too often treated as exceptions to the rule rather than as examples of the rule in operation

I know the scouting report, and life in general, can be fun and it may be great entertainment to make fun of people, stereotype them or make assumptions about their character just based on the way they look -- especially if everyone else is doing it. Sometimes it is a whole lot easier to be in the majority, but taking the road less traveled is much more rewarding.

Alright Green Wave fans, I've got to get going now. I hope you have a great day! Thanks for your time and be sure to keep an eye out for us as we bring the regular season to a close and head into conference tournament action!

TTFN! Ta ta for now -- Grace