Prove them wrong

I love to play basketball. Although I'm not very good, strapping on a headband and lacing up my Converse mid-tops just makes me feel alive. Maybe its because so much of my childhood was spent in my backyard shooting hoops with my dad or at the CAC (Calvary Activities Center) at my church. It was AWESOME having a dad with 24 hour access to a gym. He's still the "minister of fun" at my home church and runs the gyms, etc... I remember some nights in middle school (dad, i hope you won't get fired for me writing this on a public blog), that we would go over to the gym way after it had closed and just shoot half courters for hours. Sweet memories. I can still hit a solid 3 for 10 from the mid-stripe.

This Monday night I played basketball at our gym here in Littleton. I usually play once a week and love the group I play with. Its a bunch of random folks who are just out there to have some fun. Not a great deal of skill or competition and I usually get to shoot a lot. One time I was 8 for 9 from 3 point range. Possibly the greatest night of my life.

This week was different. The gym was packed. It was snowy, so folks had to exercise inside. Usually the next 5 waiting for a game just form a team, but one guy decided to hand pick his crew and stack up the 5 biggest guys. Our team won and stayed on for another game, which would be against the big fellas. I rallied our midgets and tried to get them fired up about beating this team who was certain they were not leaving the court for the rest of the night. It worked. We drained 4 straight 3's (which are actually 2's in pick up) and got out to an early 8-2 lead. Then things started to go down hill.

I was bringing the ball down the court and their center, let's call him "Biff," shouted, "Ray, pick up that fool, he's got no dribbles." I was having fun until that point, then my motivation changed. Now, it was all about proving that guy wrong. Luckily, my next shot went in and my pride got me jawing with the big guy on the way back down the court. The next time down I went in for a layup and ended up upside down with a bloody knee, courtesy of my new pal Biff. Too bad you don't get free throws in pick-up ball.

Lessons learned:
1. Don't talk junk to Biff. He is big, I am medium size. Big > medium
2. Don't live life trying to prove others wrong. It takes the fun out of the game.