The Legend of Jeff Trepagnier [Pt. 1]

(Note to all readers. The accuracy of this story is not 100 percent because, well, I was intoxicated when it happened.)

It's not every night you drink and know you're going to have to write about that night at some point down the line (unless, of course you're me - and every night means every weekend for three weekends straight). I've had a few run-ins with a man a normal 22-year-old college student wouldn't recognize, but as an avid basketball watcher and a die-hard USC fan I'm bound to notice guys like Jeff Trepagnier.

As you may or may not know, Mr. Trepagnier played his collegiate years at the University of Southern California and won the collegiate dunk contest in 2001 by sticking his arm in the rim a la Vince Carter circa 2000 (although VC stole the dunk from Kobe Bryant, who was the first to do it in 1998, look it up, I'm sure it's on youtube somewhere, but I digress). Trepagnier was drafted by Cleveland and also played for the Denver Nuggets and played a couple seasons overseas before he ended up in Bakersfield playing for the Jam, the city's D-League team - which is why I now run into him every other weekend.

The first meeting was the first week of January, my last weekend before I started my winter quarter at California State University, Bakersfield. I was out with my friend Davion, who happened to have just broke up with his girlfriend of two years just a couple months before - so you can only imagine how much we went out during my Winter Break.

We showed up to Azulz's, a bar in Downtown Bakersfield (yes, I'm still embarrassed that I go out in Bakersfield, the sooner I graduate the better) and were greeted with a line we normally wouldn't have waited for, but Azulz's is free, which only makes seeing Trepagnier there even funnier. At that time both of us were broke (I'm not going to lie), so we were buying cheap alcohol before hand and drinking just enough to be able to say anything at any given time - a hilarious way to do things, but I wouldn't suggest it if you aren't capable of talking your way out of bad situations.

We were standing at the end of the line laughing at all of the girls who were overdressed for the third trashiest bar in town and all of the dudes trying to get at them when Davion spotted a guy at the front of the line, turned and asked, "Is that Jeff Trepagnier?"

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22 and learning

I guess that means I’m a pimp on par
Till I’m six feet under like it’s three niggas in that Flinstones’ car
-Lupe Fiasco

It’s been a long time, I shouldn’t have left you (left you) without a dope blog to step to… maybe?

Well, it’s been well over a month since my last post and it was recently brought to my attention by one of the few people in my life who actually matter.

She asked why I hadn’t written in a while and I told her because no one reads it. She said that she does, and well, I guess that’s all that matters, right?

I’ve written before that it’s depressing and pointless being a writer with no readers, and well, nothing has changed since then. I still write, and I still want people to read, but it’s to the point where I’m not writing because no one is reading. How do you remedy this?

I feel there is only two ways to remedy the problem. Either you just stop writing altogether so you theoretically don’t have to worry about people not reading your stuff or you can continue writing until you earn your readership. The former is definitely easier than the latter because you don’t have to motivate yourself to not do something. Being lazy is natural, it comes easy to all of us. It takes a lot to put your work out and see it go unacknowledged day in and day out, but I guess that’s what comes with the territory of being in love with a medium that requires people to concentrate on something that isn’t really moving.

The thing is, if I had worked at my craft like I promised myself I would (apparently men don’t only forget promises they make to other people, but they forget the promises they make to themselves) than I would be creating images that move. That’s what, in my humble opinion, good writing does. It gives the illusion of a moving image. When I read guys like Chuck Klosterman or Bill Simmons I can see what they’re writing about, which is why they’re so well read. It may have taken me 22 years to figure this out, but I think I know what I need to be doing.

In this last month and a half I’ve written two or three articles for talkhoops.net, none of which were read by any of the three people I’m closest to outside of my immediate family. What I’ve learned is that when it comes to being supported as I continue my quest in making writing my profession, I really can’t count on anyone, not even my closest friends. I’m okay with this. I really am. I can’t force people who don’t like to read to read, and I can’t force people who do like to read to read what I write. I’m not their conjectural cup of tea (or bottle of Gatorade).

I’ve learned a few other things since the beginning of the new year:

1. 98 percent of all women I MEET (note that I’m stressing the women I meet) are stupid. So is looking for love. People in bad relationships are in that situation because they were looking for love instead of happiness. Look for someone who is going to make you happy and love will come later. I guarantee it.

2. I’m way too nice of a person. When it’s a shock when I raise my voice at someone (because in reality, I just don’t yell at people) – even after they’ve already raised their voice at me, it means you’re too nice and you need to start cussing more people out.

3. I can’t associate myself with anyone who can’t respect the fact that I love basketball more than life itself. It’s who I am, it’s what I love and it’s not changing.

4. I also can’t associate myself with people who aren’t passionate about anything. While thinking about my favorite people, most of whom I see on a daily basis, I realized that all of them are passionate about something. Of all of the people who I can’t stand, I can’t think of anything they’re passionate about. Go figure.

5. If I’m not writing, I’m not doing anything. I might as well start writing more.