The Legacy of Ball

Finally, after a decade-long journey, in December of Michael's senior year of high school, when my fingers started pounding the keyboard, something magical happened. They could not stop. I wrote a chapter the first week, two chapters the second week, then three and then four. The stories, lessons and messages poured out of my memory and onto the pages of this memoire. The final thirty-five chapters were written in thirty-five days. I always said to my son that we are defined not by our behavior when things are great, when we won the game or when we made the team. We are defined by who we are and how we act when we are faced with our greatest challenges, when losing falls squarely on our shoulders and when we are rejected. In between the covers of this book, in between the laughs, he and anyone who reads about our time together, will understand how the Legacy of Ball shapes and defines each of us.

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The Legacy of Ball

The Ride From Hell

May 06, 2021 • David J. Sussman • Season 1 • Episode 6

Do you know what "GottaGetHomeItis" is?
Learn what happens when you make the crazy decision to hit the road.
AAU tournaments take you far from home... Sometimes too far!

It was 6:00 pm, and the team parents were planning on one last dinner together after a long week of tension and games. They were looking forward to getting up and out of Westville, Michigan, early in the morning the following day. I, on the other hand, had other ideas. I was tired of it all as I glanced at my watch. I quickly made the calculation. I was ready to hit the road. If I got out by 8:00 pm, we could get home by 5:00 am. Not only was this tempting, this was doable. Michael was my navigator, my wingman on the road. I was ready. Michael was ready. We decided to get going. I grabbed a couple of the boys and threw them and their stuff in the car. It was time for a classic hoops road trip with three tired twelve-year-olds and a driver suffering from a bad case of “gottagethomeitis.”

Our first stop was CVS Pharmacy. My instructions to the boys were simple: “Get anything you want and get as much of it as you want.” The boys did not disappoint—we loaded bags and bags of goodies and drinks into the car. We had an assortment of candies, a plethora of chips, and an array of sodas. I was fine with whatever the boys wanted. We had a long night ahead of us. I, however, was a little fatigued at the start and wanted to get an extra-large Dunkin Donuts coffee to give me an edge and help me focus throughout the trip. Then I saw it. I saw the one thing that would guarantee my on-time, alert, safe arrival into my Highridge, Ohio, home, ten hours from now. It was a grape-flavored 5-hour Energy drink. I had never had one before, but I had seen the commercials. I knew how it worked. It was fairly self-explanatory. There was no better time to have my first than this night. If I needed to drive ten hours through the night, I simply had to drink two 5-hour Energy drinks. And I needed to down them at the same time (5 + 5 = 10). By drinking two of these energy-filled shots of liquid gold, wouldn’t I stay awake for ten hours? This made sense to me. Cheers! “Buckle up, boys, we’re on our way!”

It did not matter what they ate or when they ate it. I did not care at all. The music was on, and we hit the road. Within a couple of hours, they had all passed out. I felt great when we started. It was 8:00 pm and nothing was going to keep me from getting home. By 11:30 pm, my story had changed. At that point, I started to hit the wall. I was surprised it happened so soon but felt I could handle it. I was a seasoned driver and could log long hours behind the wheel. By midnight, though, I was not sure how I was going to make it another five and a half hours on the road. I figured maybe I could shut my eyes for a while. So, I pulled off at the next rest stop and tried to take a nap. It didn’t work at all. My mind was tired, but my heart was racing. I wonder why? Thank you, 5-hour Energy. I was really fatigued but found myself staring at the ceiling of my car. This was not going to work for me. I was wasting time. If I couldn’t sleep, I might as well drive. I went back at it.

By the time I was driving over the DiSalle Bridge, it was the middle of the night. There was not a single car in sight in either direction. I took a video of it. It was surreal. I guess there was only one “crazy dad” on the road at that time. I had the title and I was proud of it. That moment gave me a touch of adrenaline, which I needed desperately, but unfortunately it was short-lived.

There I was, speeding down the I-70 at 2:30 am, and my exhaustion was overwhelming. The windows were open, the music was blaring, I was bouncing on my seat, pinching myself or slamming one of my fists onto my thigh and my other fist onto the wheel. Anything I could do to stay awake was fair game. I was doing it all. The level of fatigue I was experiencing was considered DEFCON 5. I stopped at each of the rest stops in Ohio, got out of the car, did some jumping jacks, then literally ran into the bathroom to splash water on my face. I used every technique possible to raise my heartbeat and give me a few more minutes of focus.

Finally, it was 4:30 am and I was within thirty minutes of home. I woke Michael up to help me clean the car and fill it with gas. I was delirious but determined. The other boys were still fast asleep. It was just Michael and me. When Michael opened the back door, trash literally spilled out onto the ground. Soda cans, empty bags of chips, and candy wrappers riddled the back seat and floor. We cleaned it all up. Sure, we wanted to get rid of the trash. But more importantly, we wanted to dispose of the evidence. No one would believe what we had done and what we had ingested these past ten hours.

Within five minutes of the rest stop, Michael and I experienced the most dangerous moment of the entire ride. As I approached a major fork in the highway, I needed to stay to the right and enter the I-75 from the I-90. This was normally a simple driving maneuver, but to a man way over the edge, suffering from dangerous levels of driving fatigue and physical exhaustion, it was impossible to figure out what to do, so I nearly came to a complete stop. Michael jumped into action and yelled, “GO DAD! GO TO THE RIGHT, GO!” He then pulled a move that probably saved my life. This move most likely saved his life and the lives of the other two boys as well. Michael rolled down all the windows, put on “Bohemian Rhapsody” by Queen, and literally turned up the volume all the way to the maximum level. For the next five minutes and fifty-five seconds, we yelled every word to the song. We belted out the number-one, most downloaded song on YouTube. This woke me up completely, and we found the energy to drop off our passengers and get home and into our beds, safe and sound. Queen saved my life. Michael saved my life.

Of course, I do not endorse my behavior. No one should ever do that. It was stupid. This time, it was I who was an ass! I made a man-to-man promise to Michael never to do that again, and I have honestly not ever allowed myself to drive fatigued like that since. I stop and take naps all the time. I switch drivers willingly, and I will never put my passengers in danger again. It was clearly irresponsible. We were lucky to get through the night unharmed. Oh, one more thing. I have never had another 5-hour Energy drink since that night.