It’s dry again at last!
Yep, you’d hear me say that with as much enthusiasm as a drunk would with sadness.
I haven’t been to the basketball court since last Tuesday, man, it’s good to be back!
A pretty plain day, plenty of aching muscles and little condiments of madness.
I’m learning some new tricks I’d love to share.
If you have Velcro shoes, not only are you likely to get the most photogenic glares, but you’re also at a huge loss: you’ve just lost a big opportunity.
See, when you play a sport, you need to first warm up with a run.
And boy, warm up runners come in different varieties alright.
For some folks, it takes a quick sprint to get up and running.
For some, the bull takes over: no talk, shut eyes, head down, and run. Then look up and pant.
Then there’s that immensely annoying infinite-stamina guy who never gets tired, is faster than everybody else, and runs backwards in front of you to rub it in your face.
(Have I mentioned I have a thing for coming third? Let us NOT talk of speed.)
(But I ain’t the slowest. Anymore. Hah. Hah.)
Then there’s the guys who will make you feel like running drills were invented just to torture them.
These are the guys who talk the
run walk, will stop at every turn, and have immense willpower to keep on trying.
It’s these countless tries where shoe laces play a beautiful role.
Their laces will come undone every two minutes.
Following this will be an audible sigh, then they bend a knee and get to work.
Damn, their knots will put a sailor to shame.
Perfect bunny-ears, over the loop, under the loop, around the ankle, a tight, secure knot, with considerable precision, oops! Did I disturb your concentration?
Darn it, it’s all for nothing!
Well, shrug, here we go again!
There was a kid like that once, Coach then bound her laces together for good.
Not all knots are that boy scout-worthy, but I’ve seen it shave off about three rounds up and down the court, of the warm up rounds, if done correctly.
Take notes, class!
Have you ever jinxed someone’s perfect run?
Well, I have, today.
Alternate hand dribbles.
Kid ahead of me.
I’m expecting it will take a while.
But in fact, the kid’s pretty decent at it! What’s more, kid’s going at a decent pace too.
Me thinks, wow, was I wrong.
Some dozing Easterly reads my mind; next thing I know, kid’s ball is in the next court. Out of sight.
Another thing, did I mention that we had stepped onto the court after a solid week?
Aims were off today, and I mean that.
Today’s Accidental Ball On Butt count: 3. (In the span of ten minutes.)
What else is new?
We probably did more ice skating today than basketball, and I really suspect there’s camouflaged algae right under our feet.
Fancy a back rub, algae?
Wishing you had a candid camera?
Some of those slides were graceful!
Brownie points, sure, but unfortunately, that didn’t get our opponents a basket!
To top it all off, we ended the day somewhat this way:
You know rains are a time of uncertainty for us slippery sliders.
So Coach tells us he’ll message to let us know if the court’s dry enough to play next time.
A younger girl goes up and asks if Coach has her number.
Coach replies in the affirmative.
Girl: Okay. You didn’t tell me the last time.
You never message me, sir.
Poor Coach doesn’t hear the end of it till he can chase us away.
Till next time, if we ain’t cookin’ stew on the court, keep sliding!