THE CRACK APPEARS.

Guru was a prolific tennis player at that time. 60 or 80 games a day wearing all his disciples out. As a tennis court guard after all the morning duties were completed, the inevitable and always highly enjoyable games started. Four square, kick the can or whatever dreamed up games we played before Guru got there; which could be hours or minutes. It always involved a profuse amount of laughing. During celebrations Guru was mostly like clockwork unless some center drama developed or world event occurred. When the gate opened and the crowds moved in and Guru got there we became ushers, ball boys, score keepers and sometimes Gurus opponents on the tennis court. There were also the other types of court guards mostly locals who were the coffee drinkers who sat at Gurus gate and exchanged gossip and pastries. I guess they were higher on the Totem pole but I had no interest in that Totem pole.
I wasn't into Tennis enough to be a scorekeeper nor could I play much of a game of tennis but I sure did love being a ball boy. It was truly an art. My brother Yogaloy was a master at the ball toss to Guru and before I was called down from the stands to be a ball boy I use to admire the zen like quality of his throw. When Guru raised his hand for the ball it should only bounce once and drop right into his hand. When a ball wasn't going to make it or it was out we would be off in a dead sprint before a ball even hit the net. The trick was to always get the ball before it bounced twice. I was the master at the full tilt 2 finger cross court grab. Or the 2 fingered Louie. (we had names for them) It is a full sprint take off, computing your ground speed and that of the balls trajectory, while skimming the ground with the two fingers open to snag it in mid air with out looking; coming to a graceful controlled stop on the other side. These were not rules this was dictated by pure fun having. All I knew it was my salvation. I truly had the attitude that it was karma yoga and nothing else. I got to sprint after tennis balls for hours and goof around on the down low while the other disciples had to sit in the August heat in perfect whites and saris with folded hands for hours. I would never have made it.
When you crash and burn in New York it is always as spectacular and just as intense as the highs are. After the grenade guru rolled into my ear, and my subsequent earthly impact it was hard to keep my eyes from roaming around. If you let the eyes roam you are inevitably going to find someone who is letting their eyes roam and that shit gets thick fast. Also in a high profile fishbowl job like a ball boy there are always girl eyes on you so you always used your peripheral vision. I was too exhausted to keep up much of a defense and being a hopeless romantic type I wanted some eye candy so I glanced around. There was a girl that was supposedly similar in physical appearance to the soul of the sacred Ganges river. I saw her before I heard the hype. She strolled into an evening function at the tennis court in a cotton Indian homespun sari with a simple floral pattern. Thin waisted full midriff exposed, dark featured almond eyes, nose ring and barefoot with a snake toe ring. She was my kind of trouble. Dont get me wrong I was a good disciple for 9 of my ten years. 19-28 I never once considered having a girl friend. But when I was not on my game I thought about women, I guess as all guys do. Anyway that day on the court she came slithering through the upper balcony of the tennis court and I just couldn't help but follow her Sari trail. When Guru was playing, or when in gurus presence I would always maintain strict focus and thought discipline. What made this day different was that as I sat there I consciously and fully gave into that Tantric beauty. On the next high speed reach down my back tweaked for the first time in my life. On my subsequent plane ride home with my back on Ice( I kid you not) I sat next to a professional Tantrika. She was personally employed to prince Albert of Monaco and said that disciples from Germany had been ringing his phone off the hook for weeks trying to get him to meet Guru. She said they were relentless and shameless. She had not a hint of embarrassment at relating ( after she found out I was celibate) all the esoteric of techniques of her trade. I just acted like she was an accountant relating her balance sheet, but I probably had that " Oh My Stars" look.
In hind sight from a fear/guilt perspective( a necessary state of mind of a junior aspirant ) one might say Grace left me. When I consciously was disobedient, and "Hostile Forces" attacked. Not the case. I broke my psychic vessel I think on that day or cracked it at least. A state I would have to return to and repair on my own one day down the sweep of years. It was the beginning of my taking up and shouldering my own Karma. I had opened the door to the Laundry room.