Style Points

OK, notwithstanding my own old school, fundamental basketball affectations, I enjoy creative "flashy" play as much as the next guy. It's become an important part of the game: the behind-the-back no-look pass, the backdoor alley-oop, the strong, in-your-face finish with a high-flying dunk. Sure, sometimes these things go embarrassingly wrong, which always brings the "Fundamentalists" to their feet in smug, self-righteous "I told you so" indignation. But when they go right, they are magnificent things of beauty to behold -- an eloquent testimony to the athleticism of the people who play this game at the highest level, and whose "skills" embody not just good technique, but the authentic work of real artists.

I'm certainly not the first person to compare basketball to jazz. The dynamic interplay of innovative improvisation within a familiar structure is a large part of what makes both what they are, and the better one understands the latter, the more appreciative you are of the first. Mastery of technique simply creates greater opportunities for creativity itself, as with any art form. Basketball players leap into the air with the grace and power of a Baryshnikov, only they carry a ball with them and improvise their movements spontaneously in the moment. And when you have five artists playing together, sharing the ball as they move as one mind in complex patterns to surprise both their opponents and their appreciative observers...well, all I can say is who needs "The Nutcracker?"

On the home front here, a very satisfying run last night. Suddenly occurred to me that just because we've moved our starting time up to 7:30 didn't mean I had to scramble to get ready by starting to dress as if we were still playing at 8:00, and then rushing out of the house. So I actually dressed early and arrived at the gym about a quarter past seven, where I found several other players already there warming up. Had a chance to stretch more thoroughly, and even to shoot around a little...and it really made all the difference in the world. Still had a fairly rough night shooting from the field, but I knocked down important shots when I needed to, and at least my misses weren't humiliatingly off-the-mark. Was a little more lackadaisical on defense than usual, I think in part because I got on a team with a couple of guys not generally known for playing tenacious "D" and just didn't feel like trying to do it all myself. But it was kind of nice to watch them both step up, and we won some games that we really had no business winning simply because we were able to get the most out of the players we had, including the two guys who would much rather basket-hang or launch a deep three than show over the top of a screen when defending a pick-and-roll.

Best play of the evening...or at least the best that I was involved in. Stole the ball from a defensive rebounder when he put it on the floor to try to start the break, threw a quick pass into the lane to a teammate who'd seen the steal and was flashing to the basket, which was deflected by another defender who managed to get his hand into the passing lane at the last moment, beat THAT player in the scramble to the loose ball, and without ever really getting both hands on the pumpkin, made a quick, one-handed pass back to my original teammate, who was at that point standing all alone under the basket, for an easy lay-up. Just like we'd drawn it up that way.

I know I'm never going to be able to finish a fast break with a high-flying jam, but you know, it doesn't really matter, I can still be creative, I can still improvise and innovate, I can still play at the highest level of MY ability, and bring out the best in those around me. It's all good. Actually, it's better than good. It's fan-tastic....

The Minister of Defense

One of my friends told me last night that I have a new nickname, "The Minister of Defense," which actually delighted me to no end, on what turned out to be yet another rather pathetic night on the offensive end. Knocked down a gorgeous three early on (which pulled us even for the first time, and put us in a position to eventually win the game), but then shot nothing but bricks and airballs for the next 45 minutes, until I finally had an opportunity to finish a 2 on 1 break with a lay-up, and then ended the night by hitting a little 10-foot baseline jumper (which I thought I'd missed when it left my hand) to win the last game of the evening. But I also missed two other break-away lay-up opportunities (both off steals I'd made in the open court -- one an EASY left-hander when I just couldn't pick-up my dribble, and the other an even easier finger-roll at the rim which I'm not sure HOW I missed), and also fumbled a pass that would have been a third lay-up (yup -- shot the ball before I caught it), and even had a shot blocked when I tried to out-jump a shorter player down on the left block, and discovered that nowadays I don't jump quite as high as I remember.

But the defensive end was much more satisfying. The two steals I mentioned earlier, plus I was able to force a couple of other turnovers by beating oponents to their spots and causing them to travel; made several deflections and intercepted a few passes, closed some strong traps, that sort of thing. And it's killing me to be in such poor "game-shape," knowing how much better I could be playing if I would just take the time and make the effort to do the strength and conditioning work. But I need to be honest too. I can't really afford to put basketball at the center of my life right now. I'm a grown-up. I have a whole OTHER life that basketball has to stand in line behind.

It's also kinda hard for me NOT to grow frustrated with my teammates when they DON'T play good "D" and habitually throw-up ill-advised shots, refuse to share the ball, make stupid turnovers, over-dribble, and generally play poor fundamental hoop. And here's the irony, of course. When I can't run the floor as effortlessly as I might wish, it's not really fair for me to criticize others for not getting back on defense. When I routinely look to thread the ball through tight passing lanes in order to make a dramatic assist, it's hard to criticize others for attempting to do the same. I certainly make more than my fair share of TOs, even though (subjectively at least) I also feel like I see the floor and execute those passes a lot better than many of the other guys I play with -- guys who just don't seem to have quite as much "court sense" as I do. But when all is said and done, I find myself standing out on the perimeter with my arms in the air far too often to complain that my teammates don't move without the ball....

In any event, I worked up a sweat, didn't get hurt, had a good time and probably burned at least a FEW extra calories. So, no complaints and no regrets. Life is good, and I guess at my age, that's all that really matters.

Strength & Conditioning

So, these never really were exactly the strongest part of my athletic career. Never really cared much for the weight room, and cared even less for the various means various coaches devised to improve my stamina. Windsprints. Stairs. Hills. Suicides... You get the picture. And of course, as a kid, I never really noticed I was tired even when I was. Performance was all about "skills." And if I had the skills, why should I have to run or pump iron?

Of course, nowadays I'm much more sensitive to the relationship between conditioning and performance. And since my former is shit, my latter is following suit. Back this week in earnest for the first time since before the holidays. Monday night I knocked down my first shot from the field, and then it was a nightmare for the next hour or so...air balls, missed lay-ups, way too many stupid turnovers. Played OK "D" for awhile, and even blocked a shot while defending on the ball one-on-one, but my legs felt like lead and my shots landed like bricks.

Started to get a bit of a second wind with about a half-hour left to play, after making a FANTASTIC, play-of-the-night left-handed pass off the dribble and across the lane in traffic while leading a break, but unfortunately my teammate bobbled it slightly and by the time he found the handle his momentum had carried him behind the backboard. So, lots of oohs and aahs but no points and thus no assist -- but still, it gave me just the lift I needed to play with just that much more energy, and suddenly shots started falling for me -- including the last, game-winning "J" of the evening while my buddy Curly waited down in the lane on his heels, afraid to come out and defend me because he knew I'd go right by him.

Tonight was almost the exact opposite story. Got to the gym early enough to stretch and warm up thorougly, then got in with a group of guys who just had good chemistry and who played together well: good ball movement, good shot selection, good help defense. Won three in a row, and just felt great...knocked down my open looks, made some great assists, rebounded, defended, ran the floor. But as the night wore on and my legs started to go, suddenly I couldn't really keep up with the pace of the game any more, all my shots were short-armed off the front rim (or worse)...and then, at the end, missed a wide-open look at a three that would have won the last game, only to have my guy knock down the winner on the other end when I couldn't stay with him and fight through a screen.

But you know, win or lose, glory or goat, I still feel GREAT! No injuries, a nice healthy run, plenty of good plays and nothing too humiliating. So what could possibly cause me to complain?

I just wish I could somehow find within me the desire and the discipline to strengthen and condition more than what's left of my hair....