It's August in central Texas. We finally punched through the 100 degree barrier last week, which is way behind schedule.
Last Sunday something unique happened. It's 10-8, we're playing to 12, some guys have left by now, so this fifth game is reduced to four-on-four. It's about noon, and the sun is obnoxiously oppressive. The concrete, the sky, the backboards - everything glares. We're a basket or two from finishing. After both teams miss, we come back down the court trying to tie it up, when suddenly, in a matter of seconds, everybody wanders into the shade. It was a nearly silent exodus. My guy, Tim, mumbled, "I need water" as he staggered into the wooded area, and I wordlessly followed him. The next thing I knew all eight of us were sitting down. There was no "is that it, or is this a break?" discussion. Simply over. After resting for a few minutes, we found the energy to laugh about this unprecedented manner of concluding our game.
We might have lost that one. We lost the previous three. We did not, however, lose the first one. I knew that the first one, while it was happening, was going to be blogworthy. When I say "we" I'm talking about five of us who have been together since 2005. And when I say "they" I'm talking about five of the younger guys. The game started as 4-on-4, but with the score tied at four baskets apiece, we each picked up a guy, and started over at zeroes. We naturally picked up Brian, and they naturally picked up White Kobe.
Well, we won handily, 12-4. When Randy spotted up and drilled a two pointer to make it 7-2, I knew this game was going to be special. What distinguished this win from other wins against the young guys is that our team was not the tallest configuration that we might have assembled, nor the fastest, nor the one with the best ball-handling skills. In contrast, the young guys had about the best five that Young Guy pool could have fielded, in my opinion. But what we had, as Norman Dale says, was each man playing to his potential. We finished fast breaks, hit twos, pounded them inside, and made them miss. Gil, Mando, Randy, me, Brian: a moment to cherish preserved in time.
We did lose the next three, like I said. And nobody really cares about losing the first game, especially if you manage to win the rest. But it happened nonetheless, and when it happened it was poetry in sweltering motion.
Comments