The WNBA holds its 2024 draft today. Caitlin Clark is expected to be the number one pick. The lucky team is the Indiana Fever.
It’s a strange coincidence that last night I dreamed about Caitlin Clark. In my dream, she’s visiting O‘ahu, and for some reason, she’s staying at my house.
Just before she leaves, she hugs me and thanks me for allowing her to stay here. I should tell you that she was sleeping in an upstairs bedroom.
Anyway, she hugs me and thanks me, and I tell her I can’t believe that I know someone who could turn out to be the greatest player in basketball history, female or male. She thanks me, most humbly, for my kind words.
I wish her a safe trip, and she tells me that before her flight tomorrow – I don’t know why she isn’t staying with me that night – she will be at Aiea Bowl because she heard they make great oxtail soup.
Cut to me, walking up the hill to my house with my parents. I should mention that both my parents have passed away, so walking with them is odd, but no stranger than my telling them that I know where Caitlin Clark will be eating lunch the next day, and I want to give her some kind of farewell gift. I ask them what they think would be appropriate.
Now, I’ve jumped ahead to find her at Aiea Bowl, and she is indeed eating oxtail soup. I say hello, Caitlin looks up, and I hand her an envelope.
“Here’s a present for you,” I tell her. “My parents thought this would be a great gift.”
All of a sudden I realize that she’s eating with her entire team. I recognize Aliyah Boston, who’s sitting next to her, but the faces of the others are a blur.
She opens the envelope, and I’m surprised to see it’s a gift certificate for Aiea Bowl. I don’t know why. I’d think that I bought it, right? So there’s some kind of information gap there. Well, there are lots of information gaps all through the dream. This is just one of them.
Anyway, “I’m sorry,” I say, “but it’s not enough to cover lunch for your whole team.”
She tells me that’s not a problem and thanks me for the gift certificate.
Right away, now we’re all walking through the airport. The whole team and me. Caitlin Clark and I are right behind Aliyah Boston. She is so tall that it looks like her head is touching the ceiling.
I say to Caitlin, “Can she fit in a regular airplane seat?”
Caitlin laughs and says, “I don’t know.” Which is weird, right? It doesn’t make much sense because Aliyah would have flown here, I’m guessing. So Caitlin should know if her teammate can fit in a regular seat, I’d assume.
We reach the gate and everyone sits down except me and Caitlin. I miraculously produce a lei and give it to her, kissing her on the cheek and wishing her much aloha.
She thanks me, and I now see them all on the plane in their seats. For some reason, all these very rich people are sitting in economy class. I know I’m not there with them because I’d not be able to get on the plane, but Caitlin and Aliyah are sitting next to each other. Aliyah does fit in the seat. I’m just an omniscient presence observing them. They are staring ahead. Through me. Not saying anything. Just looking. Like a suggestion of looking into the future, or something along that line.
That’s the way the dream ends. You see, I have all of the outline details here. Now, I’m going to have to figure out a way to tell the story. You can see how my writing process works. All these pieces. Finding a way to make them work in some kind of coherent way. Pulling it all together into some decent story.
I have to watch the draft on ESPN this afternoon. Maybe the announcement and Caitlin’s reaction will give me the heart of my story, and I can construct it from that.
Lanning Lee 