A Dream

13 02 2008

I was working in a job not dissimilar to my own, but I was in a different building, and I was sharing an office with Roy Williams. It was a long, narrow office with a large window at the end. I was pretty excited, but he was busy studying something in his chair by the window, so I didn’t introduce myself right away. The walls were dark oak panels with filled-up bookshelves and wall lamps that provided a warm, old library type glow. There were papers everywhere. It was cluttered but cozy. My desk was on the wall a few feet from the window.

I looked around and found, on a desk near the door, an large envelope with a window, like the ones they send school pictures in. Inside were a couple of large sports cards. They were like ones I have from when I was young–some photographer would take a picture of us in our uniforms and make them into sports cards, so we could feel like we were important, and we could trade them. But these were 5×7’s, and I could only see the one on top. It was Tyler Hansbrough from when he was young–I’d say around 12 or 13–and he was wearing a North Carolina jersey, number 12. He looked a lot like he does now, only a little chubby. His cheeks were flushed and he wasn’t quite smiling. Across the bottom of the card, there were four lines running the width of the card, repeating “North Carolina,” and the colors graded from Carolina blue to white and back again, several times.

I picked it up and took it over on impulse, calling him “coach” to get his attention. I told him that I had found a couple of my old sports cards a while ago and had given them to my boss as a joke, and that I thought it was funny that Tyler found his and gave him one. He laughed and said something about it, I forget what, and I put the envelope back.

A student of mine came in and started asking me questions, semi-frantically, and after a minute of my not being able to calm her down, Roy asked us if we could go talk about it somewhere else so he could concentrate. “No problem,” I said, and we went into the hall. We walked out into a large, fancy, Elizabethan-style parlor, with a fireplace and lots of cushioned benches. We decided on a spot to sit and talk and started to walk towards it.

End of dream.




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