The Summer of Taylor Townsend

Hero to goat. 

My father taught me this lesson early in life, but it's a lesson that lingers throughout adult life. Back then, 'goat' didn't mean the greatest of all time, but instead it meant the loser, the failure, the fall guy. The guy everyone blames for losing the World Series. The Bill Buckner. 

The Taylor Townsend. 

But damn if this week of tennis didn't teach us something about life. The fact that you could have the whole world dangled across your finger one day and the next look stupid. You can find yourself as the world's elected martyr to the women who can't win a big point. 

You're never that good, you're never that bad. Find the middle ground of life and stay there like it's the warm spot in bed, and never get up. 

But we do! We all do, it's impossible not to. 

You win a big match or two, get that big promotion, buy the house with four bathrooms instead of three, and all of a sudden, you start to feel yourself a little. 

And shouldn't you get to feel like the man or woman for a little? You won those matches. You bought that new house with all your hard work.

But the minute you begin to buy your own bullshit, you start to get sold that you are something you're not. You play the role society expects of you instead of just being, well, you.

This is written more for me than Taylor Townsend. She had an awe-inspiring week and should be proud of her run at the US Open. 

But when you are on top and the whole world is telling you how smart you are, that's usually the time to take a walk and thank God for the moments, and remind yourself that you are only human. 

And when shit starts to hit the fan and life begins to spiral like a pizza being spun on some guy's finger in Flushing North, hug yourself. 

My father never let me get too high, but he never beat me up when I was down.