One year you're national champions, the next you are having this conversation:
Yesterday, my students said to me, "Is your team even in the tournament this year?". (I may have been regaling them with the Carolina basketball psychodrama all term.)
"Thanks," I replied, scowling at them, "I appreciate your concern."
They went on, cruelly: "Duke's in first place! What happened to you guys?".
I looked down at my lesson plan, and felt a violent blush rising up my neck, all the way past my cheeks to my hairline. The whole vivid wave of shame took about twenty seconds to complete its journey. I couldn't even look up and meet my students' eyes. I had thought I was at peace with our enfeebled basketball season, I really did.* I was wrong.
And then we went back to discussing Life is a Dream. Which seemed apt.
- ¿Qué es la vida? Un frenesí.
- ¿Qué es la vida? Una ilusión,
- una sombra, una ficción,
- y el mayor bien es pequeño:
- que toda la vida es sueño,
- y los sueños, sueños son.