I need to give a big shout-out to Ray (and, vicariously, to my boy Eddie) for inviting Andy and I out to shoot hoops for several hours last night. Wow, three links in one sentence. Why even have a blogroll anymore? I'll just mention everyone I know in each paragraph. Joe didn't come because he had class, Megan wasn't invited because she's a girl, and Steve... uhh... Steve's too old to keep up with us youngsters. There, blogroll necessity extinguished.
Anyway, where was I? I think I was talking about how much I suck at basketball. Oh, right, that's definitely what it was. I suck at basketball. If the goal of the competition entailed highest numbers of airballs, bad passes, and misunderstandings of the rules, I'd be in the Street Hoops Hall of Fame. Eventually, the games we played last night simply became competitions of one-on-two, with me standing back away from the action screaming "kick it out!" and "pass, pass, pass!" to whomever my unfortunate teammate was at the time. Wisely, these requests to send the ball my way were most often ignored.
We must have played at least seven or eight games of "two"-on-two, with my team losing every single time. It was really pathetic. And, yet, despite how pathetic I was, no one made fun of me. I was encouraged, tutored, and mentored by these three fine gentlemen.
Hmm... now that I think about it... I was never made fun of to my face. *sigh*
Anyway, three hours of basketball last night have reduced my calves to jelly. Walking up and down stairs today has been a nightmare. I honestly don't know if I'll ever play again. And I really should have spent those three hours last night working on whittling down the mountain of end-of-the-semester assignments I have before me.
My hoop dreams have been rekindled, though. Back in my middle- and high-school days, I used to think I had a pretty killer shot. I remember one time in like 9th grade when the whole gym class was a game in which everyone had to make a layup, a free throw, and then shoot three-pointers until he missed. I won the contest, beating the entire class, by hitting like six or seven three-pointers in a row. No lie. I thought I was pretty hot stuff.
Carrie also claims that once, while I was the Fredonia State Blue Devil, she saw me hit a half-court shot during halftime of a game while I was wearing full mascot regalia. I don't remember that, though, and you'd think I'd remember that. She swears it really happened, though. That must have been an awesome sight for the lucky folks who were in attendance that night, if it truly occurred.
So I haven't always sucked at basketball, at least not at shooting. And by the end of the night last night, when we were just shooting playing a game called "Knockout," I was starting to hit a pretty nice stroke from fifteen feet or so. Maybe, if I practiced some more, I could firmly establish a decent shot again. And then I could start working on understanding how to actually play.
Then again, my calves hurt like mofos. Would I really want to continue putting myself through this? Sitting and doing nothing is much, much easier and less painful. Yeah, I'll stick with that.