Who The Fuck Are You?  I go to a card table selling tickets at an Armstrong High School Basketball game. A man at the table greets me as Mr. Hanson, and says he hasn't seen me in a while. I say to him, "Who the fuck are you?" He is offended. He is the father of an Armstrong basketball player. I shake his hand to make amends. My mom is there. I look into the gymnasium. The game is a rout: Armstrong is winning 25-2. It is the end of the first quarter. There is 1:02 left in the first quarter break. The team is warming up. My dad is out on the court with them. He is goofing off: tossing a ball between his legs and demonstrating a hook shot. There is a bridge-like walkway over the court about 30 feet high. I walk up and across it. The band members are playing on the walkway. My dad is talking with the players, making fun of them. I am very mad that my dad has been doing all this with the players. I yell at him and tell him that he's hurting the players. He does his goofy smile/grin and chuckles, not taking me seriously. I am very mad at him. I tell him, using the words "big man" and "little man", that whenever we converse and I want him to take me seriously, he doesn't. When he wants me to take him seriously, I do. "Big man" is the one who wants to be serious. "Little man" is the one who won't be serious. Coach Jackson Shooter comes up to me and says, "Stop yelling at your dad and help Ben". He is annoyed with my behavior, and thinks I am being selfish. He thinks I'm being selfish. I say to my dad again, "You're hurting the players." One of the players, Travis Kulik, is sick. A player who may be Andy Klien, but who has more facial hair, walks by. He does a handshake with my dad. Another player, Ryan Barnes, is there in street clothes.