I thought the phrase “nothing but net” had a distinctly and intensely negative connotation. If you are getting “nothing” except “net” then why would I assume that a point is part of the “nothing” you got? I imagined that we were describing the way sometimes, when you’re not strong enough to throw the ball, it just sort of arcs underneath the basket, and you hear the swish of the net against the cold, goose-pimpled surface of the basketball with none of the reward. This went deep. I thought that when people said “nothing but net” after making a perfect basket, it was sort of an ironic use of the phrase. More like “can you imagine if I got nothing but the net? Because what I actually got was a lot more.” Nothing but net meant, to me, to get something worse than just nothing - but to also receive the taunt of the potential you wasted. The sweet sound of failure. The cruel symphony of the ball almost hitting the target - of everything going wrong all at once despite everything you’ve tried. I don’t remember how my understanding got corrected, but somehow over the years I learned, piece by piece, that getting nothing but net was actually a good thing.
I wonder what else I’m wrong about. Could adding insult to injury actually be an attempt to cure said injury? Is comparing apples to oranges a valid way to discern the difference between two things? Apples and oranges aren’t really even that different. If we are supposed to know that the implication of that sentence is that apples and oranges are too different to even comprehend comparing the two, then why are we not talking about trees and dogs? Or chairs and jackets? If you say this is like “comparing chairs and jackets,” you’re actually making a whole lot more sense but everyone keeps looking at you like you’re stupid. Apples and Oranges are both round fruits - live in the same part of the rainbow - best enjoyed in slices. What are we even doing here?
I don’t think that being “right” about anything is particularly important, but it feels good. It feels good to eat cake and cancel plans. I heard somewhere that everything that feels good is bad, and everything that feels bad at first is good for you. I assume this doesn’t apply to everything - but I start to think through examples. The best friendships I’ve made came from moments where I had to force myself to emerge out of my social anxiety. Exercise feels bad and so does eating good food. Breaking my arm felt bad, but I got a lot of extra attention for one summer and that felt good. I’m trying my best to put everything in its correct “good” and “bad” basket, but suddenly I remember that getting rid of my clothes I don’t wear felt bad and then afterwards I had a themed party and I realized I should’ve kept my bright silver drawstring shorts, which also felt bad. In that moment, there are endless examples of things that feel bad and are bad and I can’t even think straight anymore.
I’ll come to a decisive conclusion for the sake of you, reader, because I know you’re waiting at the edge of your seat for the punchline. The thing that makes it all worth it. The moment this all leads to. The montage playing in your head - the images of apples and basketballs and bright silver shorts…
But first, I’ll tell you this -
I’m sitting at my old favorite cafe in my college town, passing the time, waiting for my best friend to get off work so we can hang out again. When I came in I got what I always get, and when I sat down my computer automatically connected to the wifi. It wasn’t a good or bad feeling, but it meant a million things. I don’t live here anymore but my body will always remember - and apparently so will my computer. This latte doesn’t taste as good as I remember it tasting - which means my body remembers how I used to taste it. I take a chance by touching the old wound. Does it feel good to touch your own bruises? Can it really be good, if it feels good? But It’s clear to me - I feel distinctly, certainly, and decisively that it’s really just nothing but net.