Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Old People and Basketball


McDaniel's basketball coach organized a parent vs. daughter basketball game right after their season ending awards banquet.

I am never one to back down from a competition.

I forced Monte to play.

Basketball is not his thing. 

In fact, the joke in our family 

(being from Indiana where basketball is EVERYTHING



is that if my grandfather, PaPa, had seen Monte's layup before we got married

he never would've given his blessing.
(PaPa LOVED Monte! But he loved basketball too.)

Monte got a su-weet break-away layup in the game and I couldn't help myself but whisper to him

"PaPa would've been so proud!"


I know that I don't push myself in my workouts like I am in training for a marathon or a bodybuilding competition or anything

but I thought I was semi 
in shape
kinda
sort of.

Nope.

Big.
Fat.
Lie.

I was sucking wind quickly

and pretty sure everyone could hear my heart thumping in my chest.

At the water fountain in-between quarters,

I realized all the other parents

were in the same boat.

Red-faced,

gasping for air,

trying to compliment each other

but our lungs failing our voices.

But it was so much fun.

And harder than it looked

from the stands

all season.

I didn't know if we were playing man-to-man or zone

half the time.

So I did a lot of running around

and falling down!

One of my biggest complaints

from the stands

all season
was that McDaniel was ALWAYS on the floor.

I was always telling her to make herself more solid

"Plant your feet!"

For the love of Pete, 

I couldn't stay vertical!

I swear the first time one of the dad's gave me a power chest pass

I almost shot right across the gym like a rag doll.

I dove for balls going out of bounds.
I fell trying to rebound
trying to get a jump ball
trying to steal the ball
trying to run down the court.


Me in gold t-shirt either getting up or falling down.
Monte in black looking on.
 I think maybe apples don't fall 
(pun intended) 
far from the tree.

I got fouled
(severely by my own daughter flying through the air ninja style and landing on my hip).

I had to shoot two foul shots.

Heaven help me, I didn't want to do it.

And there was no crowd watching

no cheerleaders cheering

and I still was like,

"Uh, no thank you. I'll pass. My hip doesn't hurt that bad."

But I made both of them.

Thank you, Lord. I was just praying to hit the rim.


Love how the ball is blurred like I shot it up
there like a rocket!

We laughed later that our eyes were open to just how good these girls are

at this game called basketball.

It was so easy for us to criticize and coach from the stands.

But once we played right along with them?

Hey, fall all you want, girls!

It means you are trying.

It's okay you missed that free throw!

A lot of pressure was on you

along with a lot of eyes.

We should've played at the beginning of the season, 
not the end.

Some of us even talked about starting a women's over-40 league.

We were all 
yeah, this could be great
what a great work out
what a great way to blow off steam.
Great, 
great, 
great.

But that was at the BEGINNING of the game.

By the end, it was clear that old people and basketball don't mix.

Ahem.

I overheard someone say,

"This could get VERY expensive."

I knew what she was saying.

My calves hurt so bad that night that I thought I'd have to sleep on the couch

to avoid climbing the stairs to go to bed.

The next morning, 

I had a limp.

The morning after that

my back was jacked up.

I am no doctor, 
but I do believe
that sitting in the stands is 
the healthier option for me.










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