A friend once told me that birthdays were the last leg of a relationship, that after someone stopped wishing you a happy birthday, that was it. I thought about that a lot, especially on my own birthday.
I wish I was the kind of person who could embrace putting themselves in the spotlight and make my anniversary of another trip around the sun a day of shameless celebration. But I am simply not built like that. Birthdays have always been very reflective for me, especially as I think about the people I’m closest with and how those people have changed throughout my life.
My best friends who took me out to breakfast on a delayed opening in high school are people who I haven’t seen in years. My grandmother, who passed away a few years ago, will never send me a birthday card again.
I just turned 22 last week, and I decided to go to the Hangar Pub and Grill in Amherst to commemorate the occasion. Something lowkey. Plus, it’s very hard to go wrong with a pound of boneless honey barbecue wings and some good company.
When one of my long-distance friends texted me earlier that day to ask what I was doing, I remembered that I had actually gone to the Hangar for my 16th birthday, which was entirely unintentional.
It was after a 75-27 loss at UMass’s Curry Hicks Cage. As a sophomore riding the bench, I felt helpless watching the athletes I admired be unable to dig themselves out of such a large deficit during the Western MA semifinals. If anyone could pull off a win, it was them. But if they couldn’t do it, then who could?
At halftime, my coach’s lecture repelled off of me. I was there, but he wasn’t talking to me. After all, I wasn’t to blame for our turnovers or missed shots. Our fan section got quieter as the game progressed and the score settled. If you really want to get a feel for how tough this loss was, please feel free to check out this article from the Berkshire Eagle.
I also feel obligated to clarify that I am not one of those people who is fixated on their high school sports career. It doesn’t consume my everyday life, but it was something that I lived through and occasionally think back on.
And look, I also wasn’t looking to rewrite this entire day (as my text suggests), because there were some worthwhile lessons that I was still able to take away. You can’t win them all. And no matter how badly you want something, sometimes you just don’t get it. When I went out to eat at the Hangar afterward, the game’s bitter taste still lingered. I ate quietly. Mostly, I just wanted to go home.
I didn’t feel that this year. After we ate, I went to my friends’ apartment in Puffton Village, where they surprised me with some thoughtful gifts and a rich chocolate cake iced to look like a basketball. They knew that I liked to go to the gym and scrimmage. They had no idea about the loss six years prior.
Afterward, we watched the state championship episode of One Tree Hill (season four, episode nine). In it, the Tree Hill Ravens emerged as champions, clutching their school’s first state title after an initially fragmented effort. Confetti fell. People embraced one another. It was something of magic.
I’ve never experienced a win like that. But I have received the first slice of cake and have been sung to and have felt my presence matter. And maybe it’s corny, but that feels like a victory to me.
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