Reliving the Glory Days

Last weekend, I visited two former high school friends who were also my teammates on our high school basketball team. It didn't take us long to catch up and reminisce on our glory days. Days filled with summer leagues, that I did not participate in, basketball tournaments that taught me the game at a rapid pace and endless summers at the gym and wearing short uniform shorts; not very cute, not very cute at all, but we made it work. Check out this  photo?

photo from the yearbook taken by segal majestic

 I have to tell you, I did not intentionally choose to play basketball, it chose me. I just happened to be one of two taller girls walking down the hall, who was approach by three shorties each about 5"2. Apparently, all the girls who tried out for the JV team measured around 5'2. That's how I came to basketball, they needed some height. Knowledge of the game was a whole other story. This is sort of sad and funny at the same time so listen, what I'm about to tell you goes no further than here ok? during one our games, I had an amazing steal. I  dribbled the ball all the way down the court, the crowd was going wild, screaming my name, yelling frantically. I was pumped! the cheers only encouraged me to give a bit more effort, as I slowed down to finish the lay up, I missed.... and the crowd went wild. Instantly, I was confused, I look up at the crowd and everyone appeared happy, then I looked down at my coach who just about snapped my head off.


I dribbled down the court and shot the ball in at the opponents basket. Yah, I did, I missed, what does it matter? It was in the past.  OK?


I also visited my former basketball coach and father of one of the ladies mentioned above. You know it didn't take long before the story of the near fatal shot almost heard around the world to come up. Yeah, it's a joke now, yes, it IS!. After some brief hellos and introduction of my family we traveled back in time. The year books came out, old pics and you would not guess what else surfaced; an old VHS recording of some of our games. Oh snap!!!

buddy

Listen, it's one thing to tell your kids stories of your greatness but it's a whole other story when evidence shows up to dispute of verify those stories. There were times when I added a little extra to the story each time I told or retold it. Ok, I did, I added a little bit every time. This reminds me of a short story I will share with you now. The other day my 9 year old wrote an entry in his summer journal about his dog buddy, yes the poser up to the right. This kid wrote some elaborate story about forgetting to take the dog out and that I woke him up at 11pm to walk the dog. He went into great details about being scared but the dog did a great job protecting him. I said, little guy when did this happen? He said, " it didn't, but you have to keep it interesting." hmmmmmm?



The summer of 1989 was spent in Dominica, it was one of my best  vacations ever. I traveled with my basketball.  I could barely sleep the first night. In the morning I got dressed in my sweats, bball in hand and went on the road to find a pick up game. I searched high and low, low and high, sideways, frontways, backwards, forwards and I could not find a game, but by now I am burning up cause it was hot. I was so hot, I was about to either faint or melt. Yes, I had on a hooded sweatshirt as well.


I had to go change,  as I approached the home stretched, I stopped to visit with a good friend. As soon as he saw me he asked, guhl wah a big girl like you walking around with a bouncing ball for? Of course, I said it was a basketball, he said, wha basketball dat, gul nobody doh playing dat around here, wha foolness dat? Go by the old school and play netball with them order gurls. Netball? what is netball? Bor wha I hearing dere nor? you doh know wha netball...he didn't even finish the question, he was so disgusted in a funny but serious way. No, I don't, and how come you don't know about basketball? I asked. He answered my question with a question, bor how old you be? I said 16. SIXTEEN?, stupppeeesss, gurl put dong da ball dere. You doh fine you too old for dat? Nor man, fine something else to do.

Men's basketball team, photographer Lenard Augustine (maybe)

They weren't ready yet. Netball was all the rage,  I took my ball, put it away and got into watching and tried with all my might to learn the game of netball. I found it to be very much like a version of basketball without dribbling or a lot of running.  Everyone seemed to love it except me, I don't know if it was in response to not being able to play but I did NOT embrace it. 

After spending some time watching the VHS game clips, my kids turned and looked at me their with eyes glossed over, mouth gaping, with arms open wide to embrace me apologetically, mumbling, mommy, you were good, you were really good! Ok so I wished that's what they said,  Instead, they did give me a couple high fives and cheered for their mom who had a few great moves on the bee ball court. Nothing like reliving the glory days and walking away more gloriously than I did all those years ago. Now I am a champion to my gang. A Champion!


One more thing, a year after I left, I found out that the village did get into basketball and was very well represented by an awesome mens basketball team that dominated the courts and pulverized their opponents. How could they not? I mean, Mr. Sixfootplus was on the team, of course they were super? I'm just saying.  You know what? yes, I take credit for introducing basketball to the village. Ok, how about partial credit? none? I tried.