I started to play basketball when I was in fifth grade. I was always the tallest guy in class but basketball never did interest me until I realised that everyone was playing or at least involved in it one way or another. The non players made up for it with basketball knowledge. They watched the games and recapped to the class what they saw on TV. Equipped with wit and the gift of gab, these guys could deliver major convincing especially to those who weren't too critical to identify they were being taken for a ride. This mini spectacle is proof that you never have to be an actual practitioner to get some people to thinking you are the real deal. It advocates "Those who can do, those who can't teach"(or in this case, tell stories) Whatever happened to these grandstanders? They probably are managers in their respective professions already. Just like what they say " school starts em out young ".
I learned the rudiments first. I was bookish back then. I knew the length of the court, how far the FT line is, the length of the baseline, the height of the ring. I would do Sir James Naismith proud knowing its history. A Canadian who promoted the game in America, Naismith made the game officially American in origin. I knew all of these but I would dribble the ball awkwardly. I would throw airballs and I would gasp for breath just trying to make a single basket. I knew basketball by text but I couldn't play the game even if my life depended on it.
When the renovation of our house was close to being finished, my parents had the carpenters build a basketball court from the scrap wood. Not really a makeshift court, mine had all the makings of a decent one-the kind you would see in the public playgrounds and it didn't hurt that we had a wide garage where I could play. I learned to develop my shooting skills. Playing alone, you can't really expect to simulate what happens in real world situations. So while I shot the ball well from the outside, I realised later in actual gameplay that I sucked driving inside the paint trying to convert a basket. Count that as another life lesson intertwined with sports. Simulation can only take you so far. To get a good feel of the real thing, you have to immerse yourself. You have to get your feet wet.
As much as I liked to play, I did so only by myself. There were no immediate neigbors who I could go up against with. My brother wasn't into sports. Only occassionally would I play amongst a group. In highschool I never was a part of any team. I would play on P.E. and at best, I would show flashes of brilliance but I was very raw. You could pull me out of the throng of people and ask me to play and I would and I wouldn't disappoint, but only in the first few minutes after that, for the long haul I sure would suck.
Basketball was tougher in college. Manila was the melting pot of people from all places. Whereas before I was the tallest guy in class, in college I was like the 4th tallest. That was just within our section. Outside the premises of our room, you could call me slightly above average. The best players converged at the open area parking lot which oddly had the makings of New York's rucker park. The best players outside varsity were there. The parking lot regulars, while not playing for the school were not necessarily short in talent. Heck, I could name 3-5 guys there who could have easily made varsity but opted not to , perhaps, by choice. Our school qualifies as a springboard for basketball fame but we take pride more with our studies. Playing at the parking lot was not for the weak of heart. The rules......there were no rules. Call a foul and it will be tightly contested. You have to make a clear case in a loud voice or the scorching heat will simply evaporate your whinings, never to be heard.
There was one occassion where while I was watching from the sidelines, our gay P.E. teacher called me out to play with the regulars cause play was interrupted. Apparently one player had to beg off in time for class and they were a player short to complete the ten. That wasn't even a PE class. It just happened that our teacher was around, maybe checking out the studs, and I was the random guy plucked out to play.
It didn't help that I knew no one. I could have been anyone from your Tom, Dick, and Harry and I didn't even know why I agreed to play. Perhaps, basketball is such a masculine sport that begging off will be a hit to my machismo. My heart pounded as I approached the court which didn't have any standard lines to establish the boundaries. So long as you wouldn't be treading too far, you were within the confines. I didn't take off my shirt as was the habit of most players cause I wouldn't be scaring anyone with my reed thin frame.
I was just a substitute which meant ball was already in play prior to my coming in. The group which I filled in for simply murmured and pointed amongst themselves to help me identify the teammates. I didn't want to keep the standstill so I signaled for play to continue even if I could only remember by face, two of the four teammates.
Just like how a rookie would try to convince how good he is given his little playing time, so did I go immediately to work once I got the ball. I didn't care so much as to pass. I took the ball straight to the hoop every chance I could. Again, as per my routine, few flashes of brilliance here and there for the first few minutes and after some time, on cue, I gasped for breath and then downhill it went. I got blocked two times. I suffered from rookie jitters as I predictably would shoot whenever I got the ball. Overtime, I became a sitting duck just out there to complete the ten. I didn't get anymore passes cause who would want to give the ball to Mr.Trigger Happy? If ever I did get a defensive rebound, the pointguard would approach me and ask for the ball. At least I got my feet wet. The 3 baskets I made, which were part of my template moves, did draw some oooohhs and ahhhhhhs. It was a fleeting moment but I should have learned to exit while I was at my best. Overall I think I did OK for a filler.
Once again I reprised my role as the diamond in the rough. But this diamond has been in the rough for too long one can only surmise when it will be polished.
No comments:
Post a Comment