Not all swishes are equal. Some swush as if Bird has spotted a bull's-eye within a bull's-eye. You live in Atlanta as Hawks fans, but your dad grew up south of Bird in New Albany, Indiana.
A god? Swish swish swush. A garbage man. With each shot Bird takes at the Omni, your dad squeezes your flesh hard enough to leave a mark. You'll never get closer to Bird, the north star of your youth.
Your dad pointed beyond Bird to the unfinished project of America. It wasn't a lesson you wanted. It required vision. To see the whole floor. To recall the game's one time greatest player, who hitched home after twenty-four days at Indiana University to work as a garbage man.
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