I’m 6’4” but of no use to anyone on a basketball court. Any team with me on its side would be doomed to failure because basketball and I go together like Jon Hamm and Kim Kardashian.
It’s not that I don’t like the sport, because I do believe it’s one of the better ones. It takes skill, it’s physical and it’s one that provides plenty of excitement to watch or play.
Growing up and watching Michael Jordan, Magic Johnson, Larry Bird, Kareem Abdul Jabbar, Karl Malone and Charles Barkley in the prime of their careers was akin to a thousand Jeremy Lins or Lebron James today. I even bought a pair of Michael Jordan Nike shoes with my first real paycheck, as I liked him enough to do so.
Part of the reason I’m no good at basketball is because I’m a naturally clumsy person. I need to practice a lot to acquire the right balance to be just adequate at anything, and I’ve never practiced basketball to the extent most others have. My wife will attest to my clumsiness, as she got a good chuckle last week when I attempted to ride my son’s scooter and I flipped it and myself over during a walk.
But the main reason I’m no good at basketball, despite my height, is I never fully understood the game. I was never on a team, so I never learned the fine intricacies of the sport. Fouls confuse me, as do other rule violations. I can’t tell the difference between a well-played game and a sloppy, what-are-rules one.
Over the years I’ve tried to educate myself more about basketball. But playing “Double Dribble” on the original Nintendo Entertainment System doesn’t work well in those regards. I’m usually successful when I get myself in a mindset to learn about something more, but basketball truly stumps me.
As a result, when March Madness rolls around, I cross my fingers that bracket seedings are somewhat accurate because the majority of my picks are based on which team has the higher seed. I don’t want to be the guy that picks more wrong games than right ones, and someday I’d like to win a pool to at least claim back a little of the money I’ve spent on them over the years.
This past weekend, my son, Braden, received a portable basketball hoop from his grandmother and aunts for his seventh birthday. After putting the thing together with some help (as they are almost more complicated than the sport itself), I promptly missed nearly every basket I attempted. I was worse than Marquette in the first half of its game against Murray State Saturday. I do hope they improve in their coming games, as I picked them to win it all in the work pool.
Braden, on the other hand, was hitting every shot like it was second nature to him. His aunts on his mother’s side were both good basketball players in high school, so maybe he inherited some skills I never received. I’m hoping he inherits my height, because combining the two could be good for Stevens Point basketball in the not-so-distant future.
If he isn’t, I’ll completely understand. One more awkward basketball player isn’t going to hurt anyone. Unless he’s clumsy, accidentally knocks someone over on the court and prevents a future star from ever playing again. I’m almost sure I never did that, but my memory isn’t always the best. I’ve flipped over on a lot of scooters, bicycles and skateboards in my life.
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Originally published in The Portage County Gazette Friday, March 23, 2012.
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