Word: scrubbing
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...scrub, a sophomore backup guard, on the last great Princeton squad, the team that won the National Invitational Tournament in 1975. I can't take much credit for the victory, except that I did occasionally force the first team to work up a sweat in practice, and I did absorb my fair share of the coaches' abuse. But the real curse of a Princeton basketball education is that it renders you unfit for pickup games for the rest of your life. No one looks for the open man. No one sees you when you go backdoor. Guys hog the ball...
...gesture to every Tom, Dick and Harry who happens along. Take the jolly receptionist in our dentist's office, who started showing up Dec. 1 dressed as a living gift to all humankind, with a huge red bow on the top of her head, ornamental-ball earrings and a scrub shirt in an eye-catching teddy-bear-and-wreath print. So what's my Christmas statement going to be? A simple Santa hat and sequined tree-pin combo, or should I go whole hog with the fluorescent Rudolph sweatshirt and a crown of rubber reindeer antlers...
...just after 4 p.m. when the images began to appear on mission control monitors. They were, by any measure, astounding: scrub plains without the scrub, prairie land without the prairie grass. The eye, schooled to scout such familiar terrain for equally familiar landmarks, scanned briefly for cactus until common sense reminded the viewer that there would be none. "The little engine that could," said Manning after the first clutch of pictures appeared, "did." Added Muirhead: "We've scored a major home run here...
...claim to be thrilled by the thought of my heart lying on a table at the side of an operating room somewhere. I know how forgetful those guys can be. I've seen Chicago Hope. I mean, I can picture them sewing me back up and then having some scrub nurse say to the rest of the team, 'Do you hear a noise coming from somewhere over by the door--a sort of bah-BAAM, bah-BAAM, bah-BAAM...
...Having a nurse do everything for you is hard," he says. "I feel I'm always imposing. I find myself saying 'I'm sorry.' I've got dry skin, and I'll often say, 'Could you take a towel and just vigorously scrub my face? I'm sorry.' Or, 'I'm sorry, but my nose is running.' But everybody's willing to help. I used to have a hard time asking. I'm better about it now. But the more I can do for myself, the better I feel...