There are hipsters. There are Hoopsters.
And there are whoopsters.
Another weird day at Basketball comes to mind, and I’m determined to share it.
Team sports can be weird. They can put you and your Hated (I’ll leave that one for another day, perhaps) in the same team, when the team is one of only three people, and it can turn best buds into squabbling little enemy babies.
Yes, I know, normally, it’s only just enemies, but the particular event I’m talking about was something like this. Weird.
It is every coach’s goal of the day to put best friends in different teams. Most often, they end up marking each other, and doing a lot more of something else, than marking, which ends up defeating Coach’s purpose, but well, that’s how it is. Normally.
Last week, two seventh grader “Besties” were cast into opposing teams, and obviously, they marked each other.
Call to mind the rulebook of basketball again: No physical contact allowed. You cannot touch an opposing player, you cannot hug you opponent on the pretext of marking, you cannot elbow, push, thump.
People often think that marking has one aim: “Opponent = no”, if you get what I mean.
So Bestie 1 was marking Bestie 2.
It was a rough day for them, honestly. They kept bumping each other around. They’d complained on each other a couple of times, coach had just yawned and told them to punch each other till they were even. (Then coach goes, “Fight! Fight! Fight!”)
But the game goes on.
Presently, Bestie 2 gets the ball.
Rule of basketball: always stay between your man and the basket. Unfortunately, Bestie 1 was behind her man.
Bestie 1 must save the ball now.
She jumps up from behind.
Bestie 2 tries to wave her off, defend with her arm.
Bestie 1 keeps jumping around her back, basically hounding her, trying to get to her side, I think.
Bestie 1 gets a hand on 2’s nose, or really, her whole face.
Primitive instincts kick in now, it’s Fight or Flight for Bestie 2.
She lashes out behind her at Bestie 1, and here on, even I don’t know what exactly happened.
All I know is, either 2, or a teammate called a foul. Physical contact is a foul, afterall, and the only contact being missed here was with the ball.
Coach shouts are Bestie 1. Doesn’t she know the rules?? What will jumping on her back achieve, other than a concession of the ball to the other team anyway, as a foul?
Bestie 2 adds, she smacked my face.
Coach laughs. Were you that eager to get even?
Bestie 1 protests. Coach, do you have any idea what she’s doing?
(She’s got her nails on my arm,) look, she’s practically made a hole in my arm!
We looked around, unsure.
Could someone be so powerful as to rip a new hole in the human body?
We lost it, we began laughing and that took five hole, er, I mean whole minutes to calm down, as wo got back to play.
Well, I suppose all’s fair in love and basketball, even the creation of a new part of the human anatomy!