The Ball's in My Court

I've been playing a lot of basketball lately. I have always found sanctuary in shooting hoops. It has definitely been a mental escape for me my entire life. I used to shoot a lot growing up. I can't say that I have ever had a great idea or an epiphany on the court but I usually put the ball down more mellow than when I picked it up. The last couple days I have been trying to figure out why it has always been so therapeutic for me. I am afraid I use it to numb my feelings... Thinking back there were some unpleasant times on the court...

When I was in eighth grade a girl in seventh grade committed suicide. I didn't know her that well but I had talked with her on what I think was the day she died. That next day everybody was crying, but I didn't even find out why until 2nd or 3rd hour. I remember not really knowing how I felt or how to react. I don't think I cried. But I remember going out to shoot hoops as soon as I got home. I shot for a long time. I remember my Dad coming home and instead of going inside he sat on the tailgate of his truck trying to figure out what to say. I think at that point I realized what parents fear most... I just kept shooting.

The court has also been a place of utter embarrassment. I was always the basketball team's manager; never played. But toward the end of our freshmen year the coach and the players were really pushing for me to play in a game. So it was set, I was going to play in the last home game of the year against Durand. As the game neared the pressure was building. People were coming just to see me play. I started to feel like Rudy; like I was drawing all this attention out of pity. My parents questioned whether I really wanted to play, because at the time I had gaudy, Forest Gump-like metal braces that went up to my knees. So just before the game I cracked under the pressure and told the coach I wasn't going to play. We went in the locker room and he calmed me down, and talked me back into playing. So as we were warming up before the game the refs came up to me and were concerned about the metal on my braces. Much to my relief they said I could not play with those braces. Well Mr. Butcher wasn't going to let that happen, so he took me in the locker room, tore up a gym mat and taped foam around every piece of metal on the braces. At that point gaudiness had just been redefined and my anxiety rose to a new level. So I sat the entire first quarter on the comfort and safety of the pine, but during a foul shot in the second quarter Mr. Butcher looked my way. The crowd erupted with cheers of pity, anticipating a miracle. Striken with the worst case of cotton mouth in my life, I was cherry-picking when Ryan Jones got the rebound from a missed free throw and immediately hurled the ball to the handicap kid carrying everybody's desire to witness a miracle. I caught the ball, turned and dribbled toward the basket for my wide open lay-up... The deflating gasp from the crowd echoed in the silence that followed. I failed to inspire. I finished the game with zero points feeling more embarrassed by the attention than by missing the wide open layup... But such is life. I had another shot at our final away game. I had four points in that game... I stopped being the manager after that.

Then a couple years ago, the most inspiring moment in basketball that I have ever seen happened with striking similarity to my story, only this time the outcome was much different...

Talk about inspiring. I remember seeing this as I was getting ready for school a couple years ago. I was moved to tears... Now I have followed college and pro basketball for a long time; been to two finals fours, both colleges I graduated from won national championships while I was a student, my pro team has won the championship 3 times in my lifetime.... but none of those moments even compare to this. It is so intriguing to me what the mind is capable of.