Major Get of 2009

We have a game of sorts that is constantly being played in my family. It is called the game of "gets." It never ends, and there is never a set winner. It has been ongoing for too many years to count now.

How to play:

1. Tap the victim on the shoulder and hope that they think it was someone else that tapped them, preferably a stranger, although another family member is still considered a success.
2. Tell a flat out lie to the chosen family member and count on the help of others to play along until they believe you.

How to score/win:

1. If performing option number one, we use a baseball-type score keeping theory: a small turn of the head gets you to first base; shoulder and hip turn gets you to second; a full turn gets you to third base; and if you talk to someone because you believed they tapped you, when in reality they didn't it is considered a home run. The greatest home run ever to occur happened nearly ten years ago while waiting for a BYU devotional to begin. Alex reached across the seat and tapped my dad on the shoulder who then proceeded to turn around and carry on a two-minute conversation with the student sitting behind him. We still haven't let him live it down.
2. If performing option number two, after a sufficient amount of time has passed and you're quite confident that the person fully believes whatever lie you've just told them, start laughing and yell, "GET" (as in, "I got you") and watch as they hang their head in shame after just being got. Last night, the best "get" of 2009 took place. On me. It's hurting my pride to even admit it, but sometimes you just have to confess that it was a good get and give props to the "getter"

Last night we went to the Jon Schmidt Christmas concert. During intermission a very tall man on our row walked past us to go into the lobby. As he was coming back, Ethan leaned over to me and said, "That's Mehmet Okur." That meant nothing to me, and when I asked who Mehmet Okur was he informed me that he was a Jazz player. No way. We were just three seats away from a Jazz player. Kind of a big deal, right? I immediately turned to my mom and dad and told them that the very tall man wearing designer jeans was a Jazz player. When my mom said that it couldn't be because the Jazz were playing in Atlanta tonight my dad quickly said that he hurt his knee and was on the injured list and didn't have to travel to away games with the team. Mom thought this was a great hook-up and told us that if she was on the Jazz she would want to get injured during Christmas time so that she could still go to concerts. My thoughts: when else in my life will I be sitting three seats away from Mehmet Okur? Never. I needed to take this situation seriously and while he was standing with his back turned towards us I pulled out my phone to snap a picture. Afraid of getting caught, I was only able to get a photo of his elbow. Despite the less than quality picture, I was still feeling somewhat successful until I heard both Ethan and my dad bust up laughing, feeling even more successful at this "major get" they had just completed. Yes, I had been "got" and was forced to hang my head in shame. I believed I was sitting next to a celebrity and even took a picture. Unfortunately it wasn't Mehmet Okur. It was just a regular tall man with nothing famous about him. In my defense though, he was really tall and may as well have been a professional basketball player. Well played, Ethan and Dad, well played.