Camping in the Lane

Back on the floor again last night, after a full week's rest thanks to the Memorial Day holiday. And ordinarily it would have been the last night of our "season," but a dozen or so of us have signed on to play for another month, so I've still got a few more runs to look forward to with these guys, although personally I will only be able to play until the 13th. In any event, showed up rested, had a chance to stretch, and was even shooting the ball pretty well during the warm-up which made me feel a lot better about looking for my shot a little more once we started to play. And I got in with a good group of guys as well, and we were pretty much able to keep our core group of four together all night long, losing only once. What made us so effective? Well, we had some good athletes...but not TOO many guys who had to have the ball -- instead, a nice combination of inside/outside and slashing to the basket on offense, quick ball movement, and very effective team defense...good help both on and off the ball, good communication, effective "trap-and-gap" doubleteams, and hands in the passing lanes. It just felt good. Lots of fun too.

I know I did a lot to help set the tone on defense -- got an early steal out on the open floor, and then in the half court was showing out over the tops of screens on our pick and roll defense, letting my teammates slip under the screen and recover rather than automatically switching everything...and then getting down on the helpside baseline to rebound and cut off the easy pass across the lane, but still rotating back out to the shooters when the ball kicked back out. And so as a team we were able to create a lot of turnovers and prevent second shots...which in turn lead to some easy baskets for us on the other end.

Favorite plays of the night. Got switched on to a much bigger and stronger player who wanted to post me up in the lane, but kept good position and then took the ball away from him when he tried to spin on me. Then leading a two-on-one break in the open floor, made a good ball fake, turned the defender completely around, and finished myself with an easy finger roll. Knocked down a wide-open three to start a game, then made an amazing (and truly lucky) left baseline drive under-the-basket reverse no-backboard lay-up (did you get all that?) which had everyone in the gym just shaking their heads and muttering about the power of prayer. Followed that with two easy assists and suddenly my team is up 9-2 after only four possesssions. Got a couple more lay-ups cutting to the front of the rim when my opponent left me to trap, which also helped inspire one of my (ordinarily) perimeter teammates to start doing the same, which lead to some easy baskets for him as well, and some easy victories for our team. Textbook BAFFLE -- we balanced the floor, attacked the basket, filled back to the ball, faked, looked for our open teammates, and executed the extra pass to earn some easy scores.

Unfortunately, I also missed some easy jump shots which really should have been automatic, as well as what would have been a very smooth and easy left-handed lay-up finishing as the trailer on a 3-on-2 break because I simply took my eye off the basket. Took my eye off the ball another time when I saw I had a teammate streaking down the other side of the floor and wanted to make a dramatic assist...and instead fumbled the ball and ended up throwing it at his feet instead. But all in all, a very satisfying night, which left me feeling young again.

One kind of sour note had to do with a lame attempt to enforce the "three-second" rule against a player who likes to camp out under the basket. This is one of those violations (like "over-and-back") which generally gets ignored in most pick-up games, or else enforced by more subtle means. I generally start out by saying something snarky (like "do you have a lease for this neighborhood?"), which I may follow up on by either physically moving my opponent OUT of the lane with a steady push in the back or (if he's too big to move that way) getting a good handful of his shirt...or better yet, the back of his shorts. Nothing rough or hard. Just enough to let him know that I'm not going to let him take advantage of violating the rules without violating a few myself. But counting out seconds ("one-one thousand, two-one thousand") or (God forbid!) actually calling a violation and attempting to take possession of the ball... well, it's just bad form in my book. Even out here in the affluent suburbs of Boston, in a gym full of lawyers.

In the small world department, I also learned last night that long-time Atlantic Monthly Fiction Editor Michael Curtis used to play in this game until about five or six years ago...which was just before I started to play there myself. Mike rejected the first short story I ever attempted to publish (with what was really a very encouraging personal letter, along with an invitation to submit more of my work)...but that was all I needed to decide that I would really be much better off preaching for a living instead of trying to write for magazines...and the rest eventually led to a PhD in history.... Still, it would have been fun to meet him out on the court (where potentially I could have had the chance to reject HIM!) -- so Mike, if you're reading this, we're still looking for a few more players for June. Although (doing the math) I see you must be in your seventies now. Still, you inspire me...I hope I can keep playing this game for as long as you did.

I also know that one of the reasons that I was playing with so much intensity had to do with NOT wanting to be thinking about my mom, who is also in her seventies and now in the hospital on the West Coast with a recurrence of her breast cancer. We all know this cancer is going to kill her eventually (that is, if something else doesn't kill her first); but whether it's a matter of months, a matter of weeks, or even a year or two remains to be seen. So, it was nice to be able to think about something else for a few hours -- or, more accurately, not to have to think about anything at all except passing and cutting and playing good "D." And to continue that distraction by writing about it all this morning.... Whaddya mean, Three Seconds? What kind of bullshit call is that?