It's a slippery slope
Last night we played the first game of this year's church basketball season. Our team had not practiced together once and most of us had not even picked up a basketball since last year's final game. So needless to say, we were a bit rusty. In the first half we were down by as much as 20 and getting outplayed in every aspect of the game.
Then in the second half we found our shot, started to spread the ball a little better, and did a much better job on defense, bringing us all the way back to within one point. Sadly that was as close as we'd get; we lost by like 5 or 6. But considering the way we played at the beginning of the game, we decided to count it as a victory.
Each year I can gauge my levels of physical fitness and basketball abilities based on the first game of the season. The first year we played I left the game feeling great, having hardly broken a sweat, and feeling confident in how I handled the ball and scored. Last year I had to take a few more breathers in the first game, and I turned the ball over a lot more than I wanted. This year, let's just say the 30 minutes on the elliptical two weeks before the game wasn't exactly the complete physcial conditioning program required for a guy who spends most of the day behind a desk to get "basketball ready." I felt like I weighed 800 pounds trying to run the floor. My eyes would see a lane open up but my brain couldn't figure out how to get my feet to go that direction. On one occasion myself and another teammate watched as a ball came off the rim, bounced right in between us, only to end up in the hands of the other team who easily put it back in. Neither of us made a move for it. We tried to pass it off with the old "Oh, I thought you were getting it," excuse. But truth be told our arms and legs were protesting every command that was sent down from the brain, chanting, "We won't move! We won't move! We won't move!" Yes, it was a good wakeup call that I need to exercise more.
The sad thing is when I think of playing a basketball game, I see myself as having the same physical abilities I did when I was a 20 year old college student. I remember playing well in college. I was never the best on the floor, but I held my own and at least never felt like puking after the first two and a half minutes of the game! It's frustrating to walk away from a game asking, "When did I become the old guy who now can only dream of playing the way he did years ago?" Perhaps even more frustrating is the fact that I'm only 27. I still have a lot of years to figure out the answer to that question.
The fun part is that Christina is playing with us. She's been anxious about getting out there and playing to see how she matched up with the "big boys." And she did awesome! She found open spots on the floor, she stood her ground in our 2-3 zone defense, she got some rebounds, and she ran the floor like a champ. It's fun getting to play together rather than just have Christina watching in the stands (although I always enjoy hearing her cheer for me).
Anyway, if you're ever at Byrd middle school on a Thursday night, you might be able to find the mighty Three Chopt basketball team battling the Baptists or Methodists or Presbyterians. We'll be the slow team shooting all the bricks. You can't miss us.
Then in the second half we found our shot, started to spread the ball a little better, and did a much better job on defense, bringing us all the way back to within one point. Sadly that was as close as we'd get; we lost by like 5 or 6. But considering the way we played at the beginning of the game, we decided to count it as a victory.
Each year I can gauge my levels of physical fitness and basketball abilities based on the first game of the season. The first year we played I left the game feeling great, having hardly broken a sweat, and feeling confident in how I handled the ball and scored. Last year I had to take a few more breathers in the first game, and I turned the ball over a lot more than I wanted. This year, let's just say the 30 minutes on the elliptical two weeks before the game wasn't exactly the complete physcial conditioning program required for a guy who spends most of the day behind a desk to get "basketball ready." I felt like I weighed 800 pounds trying to run the floor. My eyes would see a lane open up but my brain couldn't figure out how to get my feet to go that direction. On one occasion myself and another teammate watched as a ball came off the rim, bounced right in between us, only to end up in the hands of the other team who easily put it back in. Neither of us made a move for it. We tried to pass it off with the old "Oh, I thought you were getting it," excuse. But truth be told our arms and legs were protesting every command that was sent down from the brain, chanting, "We won't move! We won't move! We won't move!" Yes, it was a good wakeup call that I need to exercise more.
The sad thing is when I think of playing a basketball game, I see myself as having the same physical abilities I did when I was a 20 year old college student. I remember playing well in college. I was never the best on the floor, but I held my own and at least never felt like puking after the first two and a half minutes of the game! It's frustrating to walk away from a game asking, "When did I become the old guy who now can only dream of playing the way he did years ago?" Perhaps even more frustrating is the fact that I'm only 27. I still have a lot of years to figure out the answer to that question.
The fun part is that Christina is playing with us. She's been anxious about getting out there and playing to see how she matched up with the "big boys." And she did awesome! She found open spots on the floor, she stood her ground in our 2-3 zone defense, she got some rebounds, and she ran the floor like a champ. It's fun getting to play together rather than just have Christina watching in the stands (although I always enjoy hearing her cheer for me).
Anyway, if you're ever at Byrd middle school on a Thursday night, you might be able to find the mighty Three Chopt basketball team battling the Baptists or Methodists or Presbyterians. We'll be the slow team shooting all the bricks. You can't miss us.
posted by CoryJones at 7:34 AM
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