I remember when I was a sophomore in high school, I showed up to basketball practice the day before our first playoff game, our district opener, about 45 minutes late. And, um, you know, it kinda felt like a big deal 'cause I was, I was this small, kinda scrawny 15 or 16 year old playing up on varsity. Playing a forward position on varsity, which is usually reserved for taller, stronger people than myself at that time. And I was proud of being a starter on the varsity team. And then here I was showing up 40 minutes late for practice the day before playoffs, which clearly meant that I was going to lose my starting position, probably for the rest of the year. And it was kind of a big bummer.  And I remember my assistant coach coming over, just clearly disappointed in me. And I was like, "I'm sorry." Like, my excuse was like, "My mom forgot about me," which was totally true. And I remember him not accepting that excuse and he was like, "W- why didn't you run here? Or walk?" And I was like, "I did." Um, which was true. My mom did forget me. I couldn't get a hold of anyone's pager -- this was the year 2000, before -- right before cell phones became a real deal thing. So, like, if I needed a teammate's attention, there was a few of 'em that had pagers I could call. And so anyway, when it got to that point where it became clear my mom was not going to get back on time, I took off. I threw on multiple layers of clothing, tied my shoes into a knot and wrapped 'em around my head -- my basketball shoes, that is -- and began running. But as it turns out, it took me some time to cover that four to five mile trek to school. And, um, technically, yes, it was an excuse. My mom forgetting about me, me running to practice. Excuse. But I felt like it was always kind of a good one, in theory. You know, there's worse ways to be late which is, you know, when you have your own means of traveling and you just don't show up on time. In this case it kinda felt like it was out of my hands and I did what I could. …

The dog ate my homework is a common excuse. What's the best excuse you've ever gotten away with? I was on my way from -- I picked up my mom, and we were on our way down to Ohio to go to my great-nephew’s first birthday party. And we had a big, um, push toy wrapped up in the back seat. It was a big package and it was wrapped with a big bow. And that's what we were giving to [Name] for his birthday.  We get on the turnpike and it's hours on the turnpike. We gotta go just outside of Cleveland, so we were on the turnpike for a while and a cop stopped us because I was going too fast. And he walked around my mom's side of the car. I was driving, so he went to the passenger side. And Mom rolled the window down, and he said, “Where y'all going?” And I said the name of the town, and I picked up the, um, invitation, which had a picture of [Name] on it. And I said, we're going to this town. And my mom grabbed the, the invitation out of my hand and showed the cop the picture of the baby. “Isn't he the cutest thing?” she says, and she points to the thing in the back seat and she's like, “That's what we bought him.” And she went on and on about what we bought him and how he's gonna love it. And she had so much nervous energy, she's just talking this poor cop's ear off. And he said, “Well, ladies, just take it easy on the gas and get there safely,” and he didn't give us a ticket. And my mom got us totally out of that one, showing him the picture of the sweet little baby.