My Next Chapter

This has been by far the most challenging few weeks in my semi-professional life. I understood cognitively (Kevin Durant really wants me to believe he knew the word 'cognitively', let alone knew the correct way to use it all by himself? Kudos to his ghostwriter) that I was facing a crossroads in my evolution as a player counselor and as a man, and that it came with exceptionally difficult choices. What I didn’t truly understand, however, was the range of emotions I would feel during this process.

The primary mandate I had for myself in making this decision was to have it based on what is truly best for me and my future as a person that lives on Earth. What would be best for me moving forward? I could job hunt and hopefully find a nice occupation in an office or some other sort of confined space with walls. A monkey cage like I'm a zoo attraction would actually not be too bad now that I think about it, I would likely be safe from attacks by large ursine mammals (talkin' bears, folks), granted the type of metal used and the density of the individual bars would play a large role in whether or not that bear eats me for supper. A nice steel would be preferable, but if they put me in some sort of aluminum contraption it's lights out for me. Not good!

So I could look for a job and hope something hits. As a 22-year-old facing the final few months of college, there is a sentiment that its time to move on. But what if I don't get any bites and end up having to spend the summer at home continuing the job hunt? What then, Max Kellerman? 

It is with much joy that I announce I will be returning to Camp Grossman for a third and final summer. 

I’m from Medfield, MA originally, but Camp Grossman truly raised me, for roughly 17 weeks of my life. It taught me so much about family as well as what it means to be a man who still acts like a child and gets a lot of joy out of beating a bunch of 10 year olds in basketball. There are no words to express what the organization and the community mean to me, and what they will represent in my life and in my heart forever. The memories and friendships are something that go far beyond the counseloring. Those invaluable relationships are what made this deliberation so challenging.

Now believe me when I say this was actually a very tough decision. Signing that contract meant I was committing to 8 weeks in the summer. If God himself came down form the heavens and offered me a job as his social media coordinator and dog walker, but wanted me to start June 1, I'd have to tell him, "Thanks, but I cannot start full-time until September 1. Also, you were a bit of an absentee dad to Jesus, people forget that." 

So, this was not a decision I took lightly. I will obviously be on a job hunt throughout the spring and summer, but this way I will actually be making money while I do it. Very nice! 

So what do I expect from my farewell season? Well, I have a Maccabiah title to defend first and foremost. I want to go out as a back-to-back champion (think Jordan '96-'97, or Drake when he ethered Meek Mill). Has any captain in the history of that camp pulled off a 2nd place-1st place-1st place run in their only 3 years of employment? The Elias Sports Bureau tells me no. I'm ready to make history. 

With some expected turnover to the camp family, I want to prep the next generation of counselors. The ones who look at me and go, "Wow, there goes the LeBron James of this Jewish day camp in Massachusetts." Once the old guard leaves, they need to be ready to step in. The role of mentor and idol has been thrust upon me and I will gladly and humbly accept it. 

Frankly, I need an 8-week Farewell Tour. I never really cherished last summer and never really said a proper goodbye. I will not make that mistake again. I'l take everything in and enjoy it. The ups and the downs. And as is the case with any good farewell tour, I will be accepting gifts, both of the monetary and physical nature. My Venmo (@alexwong85) is indeed open, so feel free to donate to the retirement tour fund wither at this time or at any point over the summer as you see fit. Even donate multiple times if you're feeling good. As I wrote last year, I will accept any and all monetary donations, preferably in large quantities in burlap sacks, paper bags, briefcases with far too many latches and also simply thrown at me like I'm Sepp Blatter...

That is maybe my favorite line I have ever written so I had to include it again.

Camp Grossman has allowed me to grow as a person in a very real sense. For two summers I took on a greater leadership role than I had ever previously encountered outside of a Call of Duty campaign. The experiences I've had have changed me for the better. 

I'll do the whole deep dive when the time is right. The way I see it, there are 8 editions of "This Week in Campers" left to write, so those come before any final reflections. 

It's been an emotional ride since the end of August. I've spoken a lot to my inner circle who helped me reach this conclusion. But in the end, its the one I'm happiest with, and thats enough for me. 

My next chapter isn't about me moving on. It's about me moving forward. It's about adding a third chapter this book. It;s about completing this trilogy. This is my Return of the Jedi. This is Camp Grossman Episode III: Return of the Counselor. 

I'm excited, and you should be as well. We'll have a good time, get some jokes off and take it all in for a final time. 

Welcome to Season 3. Let's get it.

-Alex Wong, Counselor, Kinneret 

Boy's Club, Men's League: Week 1/2

As I have begun to accept that I am a washed-up athlete, I have taken a significant step in the process: I joined a men's rec league. Two of my friends I work with at camp (sidenote: This Week In Campers is roughly a month out from its triumphant return) played in a league at the JCC last summer and asked me a few weeks ago to play in it while I was sitting in my Sports Marketing class probably playing Tetris. 

Now, I figured it would be us three and a few kids my friend Jacob knew from the league, and that we would be going up against other guys like us (semi-athletic, for sure not all-star basketball players) and middle-aged Jewish men. Well, it turns out we A) have three unreal guys on our team and B) are playing other teams with multiple unreal guys on them. We're playing in the upper division, which I guess is fair since we can't just have one of our guys dunking on bad teams every week. 

I'll recap the first two weeks now and then make this weekly. Let's roll.

First things first, our first time together as a team was three weeks ago when we scrimmaged what I assumed would end up being the second best team behind us. We played three games and we only won the first one, but that's because our guys just kept trying to throw alley-oops the last two games. Still a lot of potential there. 

Game 1, we played the defending champs. This threw me off because when I saw them I thought, "There is ZERO chance they won it all last year." One very athletic young guy surrounded by old dudes. One was even wearing plaid dress shorts on the court and looked like a fatter Bill Murray. Turns out that guy could hit an open 3. Also turns out we have zero chemistry right now, and it showed. Not a good game. No shots were falling. I don't even remember the score to be honest, but we lost by something like 11. 

Game 2, we were feeling good walking in. And then we saw the other team. First thing I personally saw: 6'6" black dude built like a goddamn Sherman tank. And then a 6'4" kid with arms like the Greek Freak himself. A point guard with good handles. A couple of lanky white guys. And then this older dude who couldn't move around too well. 

Here's the thing about our team, no one really likes to get down in the blocks and fight for rebounds. We're the Celtics. Tons of potential offensively, but if the shots aren't falling, the other team will have like 100 rebounds. That carries over to the defensive end to. That big dude was getting putbacks like every other trip down the floor. And that old dude? He went like 11/13 from 3. Incredible. 

So at this point i have to ask you, the reader, a question. Is losing 99-68, hypothetically, in men's league basketball a bad thing? Is that bad? Should we (hypothetically) not have done that? 

We are 0-2 and it can't get much worse form here except that it absolutely can. Next week is a new test, a new challenge. Will we take home the W, or collect a third straight L? Will Chris (the kid who loves dunking and talking trash while we're down a hundo) show up on time? I guess we'll find out.

Alex Wong: "I'm Back"

An open letter:

Before anyone cared where I would spend my summer, I was just a kid from Southeastern Massachusetts. Medfield, to be specific, but unless you're from Eastern Mass and actually have any idea where that is, it's easier to just say Boston. I digress. It's where I learned I would have to do actual work in the summertime, when I thought I could get away with going to camps, playing sports and otherwise just laying around for three months on end. When it would stay light out for as long as we needed in order to finish a basketball game. When it was warm enough at all times, you didn't have to check to see what you should wear. I learned in high school you needed to have responsibilities in this most sacred of times to, not just during the school year.

I started as an intern at GateHouse Media, working with a number of local newspapers, including my hometown Medfield Press. I gained experience for a hopeful future career. It's also when I started this blog. The next summer was spent in the stockroom and on the floor of the Columbia Sportswear Outlet Store in Wrentham, MA. That at least was done with two of my friends, and we toiled there from May, just after graduating high school,  until the end of August, when it was time for college. That winter and spring, I missed out on media internships that would aid in my hopeful future. I was unaware and unprepared. I spent that summer instead tending to a lawn in Norton, MA, right on the edge of a lake. Three hours every day to start, and then every other day, watering the grass at this house built by my grandfather and on the housing market. Not to brag, but that lawn was probably the best on the block, no offense to the neighbors.

That fall and winter at school I began looking at internships for the upcoming summer. Summer of 2016. The same year as the Olympics. It just so happens my school has a partnership with NBC, sending interns to work the Olympics every two years. I wanted that internship in the worst way. Spending the last few weeks of summer in Brazil, I mean who would pass that up? Even with the health and safety concerns. I mean, I had withdrawn from Team USA considerations...

Following @PFTCommenter example, I am officially withdrawing my name from any @TeamUSA Olympic considerations as a result of the Zika threat

— Khal Fuego (@TheSituAsian508) May 31, 2016

But I was still open to working as part of the media. And so, I foolishly put all my eggs in that basket. I knew it would take longer than other internships to hear back since it would be happening as a lot of those other chances were ending. So I only applied to the Rio Games. And I waited. And waited. And waited. Eventually it got to the point where I emailed someone in the dean's office to ask them if I should have heard any-literally ANY-correspondence from NBC by now, and if I should begin looking at other options.

That was in February. I was basically told, "I have no idea about correspondence, but yes, start looking at other options." I was down. I still held out a little hope, even as I began looking at other opportunities. The problem was, it was February. The internships needed applications weeks ago. It was looking like another summer of watering yards or working retail. A few days later I got the official email from NBC informing me they were "grateful for the interest, but are unable to offer you a position at this time."

In the final days of February and early days of March I was texting a friend from home, joking about my prospects of the summer ahead. He told me his job had a few openings I should check out. He and few others had been working at a summer camp and spots for basketball and sports were apparently open. "Perfect," I thought. "Make a quick 2K+ and be done with it." I filled out an application and emailed those in charge just to make my presence known and hopefully bump me to the top of the line. After some back and forth, I had an interview set up for spring break. I went and got my hair trimmed to the point I wouldn't have to wear it in a bun, shaved my face of its 17 hairs, put on my khakis and shirt and tie, and drove to the JCC in Newton, MA. It was an interesting interview to say the least. I was asked by the camp director and assistant director about all things leadership, why I wanted to be involved and what sports I played in high school. I was even asked to stand up so the director could see how tall I was at one point. But it went well. I was told what I'd make if hired, and was told there was a 95% chance I'd become sports specialist at the senior field.

A few days later I was raking leaves and sticks at my grandparents house listening to the new episode of Pardon My Take when I heard a beep on my phone. I checked and somehow had missed a call even with the earphones in. But there was a voicemail and an email. I checked the email first. It was from the assistant director, telling me they had decided to hire me and there was a message on my voicemail with he same info. I called back and accepted. The paperwork was sent to me, filled out and sent back. I was officially on board. I was going to be a part of the staff at JCC Grossman Camp.

Remember when they told me there was 95% chance I would end up in sports? I received an email in April they had decided to move a returning and longer tenured staff member there. So I was going to be made a senior counselor with an older group and without a deduction in salary. I honestly didn't think anything of it, but was told by my friend being a specialist was much easier. And that would have worked a lot better for my one-and-done plan. But I wasn't about to throw a fit over it either. They were paying me, I would oblige them however I could.

You can read about the last few weeks at camp, as well as my thoughts following the final week. But to sum it up, I had an awesome time. The kids were great, the staff was great, and the co-workers were great. I had such a good time I started thinking, "How can I be back next year?" My unit head called me over one day the last week to do a sort of informal exit interview. He wanted to pick my brain on what went well and what I thought could be improved. I had already mentioned weeks before about our Friday schedule being tough with four straight activities and no time for kids to switch into other groups, and he heeded my advice and cut out a few minutes for that. And then he asked me if I would be back next year. And I told him I truly hoped so. At that time I was finishing my application to study in London for the Spring 2017 Semester. And I could get an internship there to, meaning I could go back to camp in the summer. So I told him that. Basically a 50/50 chance I was back despite 100% wanting to. He told me he understood I would need to look for internships if London didn't happen. But he said he hoped I would be back to, and that I would be a good fit based on what he saw over the summer with the age group just below us even better than the one we were in or the one above us. I essentially said something like, "Thank you, but if I'm back I want to be here or with the kids when they move up next year." I'm a loyalty guy, no big deal.

I leave for London on January 9, 2017. I will be interning there. I sent in my contract and other initial forms to the JCC in Newton on Black Friday.

I'm back.

So now the question is, why? Well, like I wrote above, it was a hell of a time last year. It was truly a blast to earn a paycheck the way I did, I don't take that for granted. But it may also be the last time I get to do it. After camp ends I start my senior year of college and will have to start looking at year-round jobs. And I have unfinished business. My red Maccabiah Second Place ribbon hangs on the wall in my room, right above my desk, taunting me like the flag of the Soviet Union to President Ronald Reagan. I'm coming for that blue ribbon like a bat out of hell, so hop on the train or get run over.

When that rookie deal ended I felt like there was more story to write with this franchise. I entered free agency open to offers, but when that new contract came through my email, it was too hard to pass up. A sophomore season on the heels of a Rookie of the Year display in 2016 seemed like destiny. I mean, I fell ass backward into the job when I missed out on Rio and hadn't applied to any backups. Maybe that was fate, seeing as I seemed to find my place in Kinneret with those kids and counselors. I got a max deal as well, becoming the highest paid second-year counselor in the history of the camp (this info has not been verified in any way). And I know what the critics will say:

STEPHEN A SMITH: To me, that's preposterous. He has shown nothing that tells me he commands top dollar. A good role counselor, sure,  but the highest paid second-year ever? EVER!?!? Hell, I'd rather give that money to Kwame Brown. KWAME BROWN! Did he have a good year? Yes. I personally didn't think he was deserving of the Rookie of the Year, but that happened. HOWEVER! I simply do not think he can sustain his level of counseloring in year two. I just don't see it. He will get exposed, I will be proven correct, and you will all be left feeling hoodwinked, bamboozled, lead astray, run amok and flat out deceived.


But I promise on thing, folks. I will thrive on that. The doubters, the naysayers, all of it. It will feed me like I'm Isaiah Thomas thinking about being picked last.

Ummm @ColeyMick does your boy have a complex about being picked last or something? pic.twitter.com/28gaGYZkiP

— Kmarko (@Kmarkobarstool) November 27, 2016

I know it won't be exactly the same. Almost all of the kids who made Year 1 special will be gone. I'll still see them, but it won't be the same. I don't know which of my co-counselors will be back, and the same goes for my friends who work there. But that's alright. I went in blind last year and look how it turned out. I can do it again, and even better now that I know what's coming.

I feel like Christian from WWE asking for one more match:

One. More. Summer. (For the World Heavyweight Championship)

I'm not having a press conference or party or patting myself on the back. I thought about doing an hour long special on ESPN to announce my decision but decided not even I was that big of an asshole. I'm too blue collar for that. I also couldn't afford the airtime on ESPN, or a SportsCenter anchor to conduct the event. I couldn't even afford airtime on FS1. I'll have a nice, locally-brewed IPA or two...

... but then it's nose to the grindstone. I have the rest of the school year to prepare for, and then need to gameplan for camp, developing strategies on how to get the most points in a single day of Maccabiah without necessarily cheating but also not necessarily playing by all the rules. I might light a couch on fire or eat some beef jerky. But I'm a humble kid from humble beginnings, not like JJ Watt, who will put forth maximum effort into this job, except maybe lip sync because I'm still not very good at that and will let my co-captain do 90% of the work. I'll show grit and workrate that would make every white skill-position player in the NFL blush. 

I don't know what will happen after the final day of camp in 2017. Will I be back? Will I have a farewell tour regardless? Well, that's too far ahead to know for certain, though I am open to the idea accepting gifts and monetary donations of all sizes, preferably in large quantities in burlap sacks, paper bags, briefcases with far too many latches and also simply thrown at me like I'm Sepp Blatter...

What I do know is there are soccer games to be won, kids to bury in basketball and video games, and content to convey. "This Week in Campers" will be back with a new cast of characters (yes, I did call 10 year old children characters). That's a promise. If you don't like it, there's the door. 

At Camp Grossman, nothing is given. It's earned. 

I'm ready for the challenge. 

I'm ready to get to work and show my mettle.

I'm ready to get up at 745 AM for a bus that gets us there 30 minutes before anyone else.

I'm ready to get up at 6 AM after getting four hours of sleep on an overnight and having kids already be yelling and sweating my ass off putting 45 sleeping bags back into the covers that are made far too small for what they carry.

I'm ready for the adversity, the highs, the lows. 

Let's rip.

-Alex Wong

PS-This PFT article mocking LeBron's announcement to return to Cleveland served as inspiration. Here are the other graphics that came in behind the one I used.