Lottery Winners & Losers

As someone who was born and raised in Seattle, and lived 14 years in Portland Oregon, it's hard for me to feel TOO disappointed about the results of the NBA draft lottery, notwithstanding the fact that here in the Hub of the Universe, the Celtics were completely hosed by the Goddess of Chance. Fortuna you whore! -- and where was Lucky the Leprachan when we needed him?

My own game last night was a little underwhelming. Fourteen of us in all, but at the end of the evening we had to beg guys to stay just to squeeze in one last run. Got to the gym about 45 minutes early, just to warm up thoroughly and stretch for a change; and for a time I had the place all to myself, until my rival "Curly" showed up. He's typically an early-bird, and I think it bothered him a little to find me there ahead of him. Not that it mattered. Seemed like I hardly touched the ball last night. Missed a coupled of fairly easy shots early on, and...well, let's see. Did score on a very impressive driving floater in the lane, and also made a very nice steal coming up along the baseline on the blindside of an opponent who was trying to back-down one of my teammates on the low block -- but for most of the evening it just didn't seem like I was even part of the action. And despite my extra warm-up time, never did really find a good rhythm or become part of flow of the action.

Meanwhile, I'm reflecting back on the four years I've spent playing with these guys, now that I'm down to the last handful of Monday and Wednesday evenings. We won't play on Memorial Day, which means that unless there's significant interest to extend into June, my last run with these guys will be next Wednesday. And then this blog will become mostly about television, at least until I find a new game up in Portland.

I'm also trying to figure out why I dislike Curly so, and why the feeling seems to be mutual. Is it just that I know he doesn't like me? Or maybe vice versa. I know from my perspective, Curly is someone with a lot of attitude and not many skills...a player for whom "the hand is part of the ball" seems to mean that if you touch the ball while it's in his hands, it's a foul; and whose mouth is always moving faster than his feet. Plus he always seems to me just a little too eager to look for his own shot, which means that if you pass him the ball you aren't too likely to see it again...unless you rebound the miss, of course. Still, his game has improved a lot in the time I've known him -- he's always at the gym early, and always among the last to leave, always trying to stay on the floor when the team coming on is short a few players, and certainly not afraid to step up to a defensive challenge (even though he can rarely manage to guard his man), or to take the last shot. He takes a lot of shots, which means he also scores more than his fair share of points...and he's also learned how to pass out of a double-team, which has made him a lot more effective on the offensive end. And last night I actually saw him reverse the ball by making an extra pass!

Still, I wonder what MY game would look like if I had as much attitude as Curly. Probably couldn't hurt for me to accept more challenging defensive assignments, for instance...or to call for the ball a little more assertively. I could also probably stand to look for my own shot a little more often, or at least to try to create a little more off the dribble...although generally there are plenty of guys out there who are willing to do that, and not nearly so many who pass as well (or as often) as I do. And I could certainly benefit from working a little hard (actually, a LOT harder) by getting to the gym early, and working out on the "off" days too. I'm especially missing the strength training to go with the time I spend running (well, limping) up and down the court two nights a week. And I would be a much happier player if I were just 30 lbs lighter...which I suspect is much more "do-able" than becoming six inches taller. Or twenty-five years younger....

I think the hardest adjustment though has been the realization that I CAN'T really keep up with a lot of these younger guys any more...or even guys my own age who actually take care of their bodies. Feels like all too often I'm just a step slow to the loose ball, or can't quite get off the ground high enough or quickly enough to bother an opponent's shot or snatch that long rebound. And so I'm also starting to wonder just how much longer I want to try to keep playing this game...and whether it may well be time to hang up my kicks and grab the golf clubs, or maybe just start swimming, riding my bike, and working out for 45 minutes every day in the weightroom, alternating upper and lower body training. Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. It would be easy enough to do. But not nearly so easy as just talking about it....