Ballin’ with Confucius

Danged writer’s block! I have been sitting on the idea for this post for nearly three days. I have the beginning and the end but like my step-dad’s driving there are MANY different ways to get there. Very similar to me at Subway. I know that I want a “12 inch foot-long on wheat w/ provolone” and it ends with “salt/pepper and oregano…no cookie.”  The middle is hard and I hate making decisions! Then I thought, as I drink my Yuengling, that all I have to do is apply the theme of this post and move on…no regrets! Remembering that each post is about the process…the exercise of expression and that everything else is the cherry on top.

Now on to our regularly scheduled program–

During my years at MTSU; basketball was as an important part of our everyday lives as classes, girls, music and being at every party. Class schedules were set to resolve around being free to “hoop” at AMG between 2-5pm weekdays then dinner at High Rise.

Basketball was so key that we would “guilt” one another to get out of our sick-bed with a fever and about to lose a lung from coughing just to play…all so that we could have our starting five. This was done under the indisputable medical fact that “sustained exercise such as running and jumping for a couple of hours would break a fever and relieve congestion.” Yeah, I know…we were college educated young men..LOL. I even met some of my now wife’s family for the first time after they watched us play in an intramural game that ended in a bench clearing brawl that spilled over to another court. I think her younger cousin and his friend thought it was pretty cool!

One day we couldn’t play in the cozy confines of AMG (which I picture in my mind like the gym from Hoosiers even though I never saw the movie…go figure). We had to go next door to Murphy Center…the big court for the big boys. Playing here was not new for me as I had a couple of rec classes on the court and had hooped on the floor before. One thing to be considered with the change in venue is depth perception; as AMG was small compared to the cavernous arena with a back drop of thousands of empty seats visible through the backboards and the high ceiling.

We started to warm up; shooting jumpers, lay-ups and what not. This is when one of my boys (who shall remain nameless) shot a jumper hitting nothing but air. When you shoot an air ball its like missing a dunk or with our limited skill set…blowing a lay-up. Everyone notices!

So “air ball dude” was still holding his follow through pose like Michael Jordan when he beat the Jazz. He then utters the words that we have clowned him on at various times for years — “Every time I shoot…I either hit or miss!”

We all pretty much exclaimed — “Man, what are the other options!!”  Given our sense of humor, we still laugh our butts off whenever this story is told…but that’s us.

For some reason Tim’s (damnit…I said his name…oh well) declaration that day still rings true as it is applicable to everyday life. We just have to get off of the bench at take the first shot. Whether you hit or miss is not very important (even though I know I “hit” because I finally completed this post). The key is to keep shooting! I know I took the long way to the point but hey, we got here…Holla back….