Quick Hands, Slow Feet

And actually, the truth be told, it's all about anticipation.

Another measly 9 point night, on four for God-Knows shooting. Two pretty, two ugly. The pretty buckets: a nice three in rhythm from the top of the key, and an uncontested lay-up when I jumped a passing lane, tipped the ball downcourt and ran it down for an easy score. Actually looked like a real basketball player on those two plays, which made me very happy.

The ugly? Well, a little eight-foot jumper from the left baseline which left my hand flat, grazed off the front rim, and then popped straight up and fell through the hoop when I YELLED at it to GET IN! And then another uncontested lay-up cherry-picking at the offensive end, because I was just too darn winded to get back on D.

And again, a few strong rebounds, more than my usual share of turn-overs, but one very beautiful assist which threaded the needle and hit my teammate right in the hands at a spot on the baseline where he could simply lay it up in stride.

It does get frustrating sometimes not to be able to do the things on the floor I used to be able to do without thinking. I understand that I am old, fat, slow, lazy, out of shape and all the rest...but I generally just try to play within myself and have a good time anyway. And even if I were to loose weight, and hit the weight room regularly, I'm still not getting any younger, and I'll never be in the same kind of shape I was in my twenties or even my thirties. But sometimes experience and anticipation helps me compensate a little. If I know what my opponent is going to do before he does, that gives me a big advantage. And if I can make my teammates better by doing the subtle little things that are often left undone, that gives me an advantage too. Or at least that's what I tell myself.

As I was taking off my shoes and getting ready to go home at the end of last night's run, another player noticed one of those dry erase clipboards in the bottom of my gymbag, which I used to diagram plays when I was coaching at the Nantucket Boys & Girls Club. It was kinda funny, cause I'd pretty much forgotten it was even in there -- I was basically just using it to stiffen the bottom of the bag. Still, he seemed oddly impressed -- as if having that board in the bottom of my bag might somehow give me an unfair advantage. I wish. Actually, it's the board I see inside my head that really makes a difference.