Dear Diarskee,
I have no idea what is happening and, frankly, I am a little terrified. This past week I witnessed scores of individuals swarm a local Lincoln Park bar to throw little red balls up ramps. I saw a mailman with cornrows meditate in front of a ramp then proceed to throw nine consecutive red balls into the same hole marked “50”in a manner of thirty-some seconds, I saw a loud, bald (and surprisingly sober) man toss color-coded bracelets at a man bouncing with joy at the back of the bar, tributes were made to recently deceased Kenyan lions and certain infamous 90’s White House interns, I was proclaimed King Triton, Ruler of the Underwater Kingdom of Atlantica by two women and a stuffed crab named Skeebastion, and frequently strangers bought me numerous pints of beer and shots of Jameson just for standing around and clapping.
Okay—let me start over. A couple weeks ago, I signed on to be a League Management Intern for the Skee League of Chicago. “No,” I would tell my friends, family, professors, and prospective employers, “that’s not Ski as in downhill skiing. That’s S-K-E-E as in Skeeball, as in the game you played at Chuck-E-Cheese when you were nine.” My responsibilities would include managing scores and league records, socializing and ensuring the enjoyment of league participants, editing and proofreading league publications, and lastly, writing a topical blog about Skeeball life and culture. (What the hell am I supposed to write for that?)
But the thing is, despite the laughter of my peers and the confused head nodding and smiling of professors and interested adults, and despite having to explain to my mom five times just what the heck Skeeball is, I have been having the time of my life. My boss, the bald bracelet tossing guy named Mike, has been so helpful, so patient (even when I misspelled my name on my cover letter and misidentified the year on contract) and so eager to see me succeed. My coworker Dhruv is simultaneously one of the chillest, yet wisest, college aged dudes I have ever met. My team, Under the Skee, is so fun, so immediately accepting, so filled with incredible puns and so forgiving of my horrific hundo-missing record. Mostly importantly, every single individual I have met at The SKEE League, (and believe me, I have met a lot of them so far) has been so genuine so fun loving and so filled with a positive kick-ass attitude that, although 98% of the time I have no idea what is going on around me, I have felt comfortable and at home.I have no idea what this community is that I happened to have stumbled into, but I sure feel lucky to have found it.
Boy, that was sappy. Good think this is a private Diarskee and no one else will be reading all of these embarrassing reflections.
~ Liam
