First off I need to tell you that the only reason I know the name Labron James is from watching Hot in Cleveland, and I am pretty sure he plays basketball? Watching that episode reminded me about the time I too was a basketball jock. (insert side-splitting laughter here) When I was in high school I avoided sports of any kind. I was a proud band and chorus geek, and that was just fine with me. PE was absolute torture for me because I was the one that got picked last. I was buried deep in the outfield, was the one who would bunt when I was trying to hit a homer, and the one who lost her flags in the first 5 seconds in flag football. Can’t help it, I had no athletic talent. My sister Tammy was good at softball and was one of those “cheerleaders” and my sister Kelly was good at any sport she attempted. We would throw balls in the front yard for hours, but in the end she would exclaim “You throw like a girl”.
Fast forward to the time when I was in my 40’s and I was invited to play basketball with Kelly and some of her high school friends. You think I would have known better, but I figured what the heck.. We met at the small gym in Wenona and played for a few hours once a week. Teams were chosen, and I noticed I always ended up on Kellys team. I am wondering at this point if I was just a body used to even up the sides? I also noticed, once the games began, that I was just getting to the center line when the other 9 had already been to the opposite basket and were heading back my way. Needless to say, I spent most of my time running between each of the outer edges of free throw lines, never seeing the area below the baskets. Come to think of it, I don’t remember touching the ball? But I persevered, held my head up, and returned every week. Then came the night that I made it under the basket with the ball in my hand. Wow, the pressure was on, and so many thoughts were going through my mind. Do I pass the ball? Do I attempt to make a shot? What do I do? My team was counting on the band geek and now was my time to shine. I decide to take a shot. I line the ball up with the basket….I place my hands in the correct position as shown to me by Kelly…I can hear the roars from the crowd shouting my name (ok, maybe the shouts were my 2 small children)….and then it happened. Some tall stick of a girl from Streator attempted to knock the ball from my hands and steal my moment. It all happened so fast. The next thing I know is she tripped me, I went stumbling out the closed double doors, continuing down the hallway until the concrete floor and I met. For the first time in my life the wind had literally been knocked out of me. It was scarier than childbirth! My sports career was over….it was much too dangerous for me…I had babies at home depending on me. As they say “I grabbed my ball and went home”
PS….the basketball was traveling down the hall with me, I wasn’t going to give it up until I made my shot. TAKE THAT STICK GIRL FROM STREATOR! BOOH YAAAHHHHHH