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October 03, 2011
I don't remember how I stumbled across Matt O'Neill's blog,, last February, but I knew instantly that I had to bookmark it, if only out of solidarity. O'Neill has always wanted to dunk, just as I have always wanted to dunk, just as every other American male born, tragically, without height or crazy hops has always wanted to dunk. There really are only two kinds of guys—those who can jump high enough (or are tall enough) to jam a basketball through a 10-foot hoop, and those who can't. As a member of the latter group I feel confident in saying that we all would, without hesitation, give up an internal organ in order to join the former. Not an essential organ, of course. But definitely a spleen.
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October 03, 2011

A Higher Consciousness

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When I called, O'Neill explained that he had been laid off from his day job as a writer's assistant, and he felt the hours he'd been spending on training would be better used looking for work. There were grocery bills and rent to pay. "Life just kind of got in the way," he said. But the screenwriter in him says the script isn't finished. "This makes for a natural end of the second act, the lowest point of the story that I would then heroically overcome to eventually dunk," he says.

I don't want to tell O'Neill his business, but maybe this is the better ending, the one where the hero realizes that giving up the childhood fantasy is the mature thing to do. As much as a little boy dreams of soaring above the rim, a grown man has to know when to stay grounded. Which reminds me, it's time to go pay off my Visa card.

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