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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/638669-Week-ONE
Rated: E · Book · Activity · #1535033
This is a collection of my experiences playing basketball
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#638669 added March 3, 2009 at 6:49pm
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Week ONE
FIRST WEEK

Early yesterday afternoon I spoke with Mark at the Insports Sports Centre to see if I had been signed up to play on a basketball team since no one had phoned to let me know. He told me to “Pop on down” in the evening and talk to Debbie since she’s the one in charge of putting people on teams. So, after the Woodlands boot camp last night, Norm drove me over to the centre so I could speak with Debbie. “Oh,” she said, “Didn’t Linda phone you?” I shook my head. Debbie immediately ran to the window that overlooks the basketball courts and motioned to Debbie, who was playing with her team, called “The Bunnies”, that she had another player for her team if she needed me. Linda, very enthusiastically, gestured back that yes, indeed, she needed another player. It was obvious the team with the bright pink shirts had less players than the team in the yellow uniforms. I wasn’t prepared to play right then and there, but Debbie looked down on my shoes and saw that I was wearing shorts and said not to worry. I was fine.

When I entered the courts, Linda gave me two shirts to try on, which I could have either worn under the shirt I already had on, or I could go into the store room and change. I opted to change because I know how sweaty I get when I’m running around. Especially since the gym was already hot and humid. I put the smaller of the two shirts on and joined the team.

I was immediately put onto the court and was told where to stand. I felt foolish standing there not knowing anything about the game other than you dribble, run, and shoot, while trying to keep your opponents from doing the same. However, just how to dribble, how to shoot, and where to stand once you finished running was a different story. It didn’t take much time before Linda realized a pitch fork on a rubber raft wasn’t close enough to the hay pile, so she had me sit out and watch for a while. Watching made a heap of difference. It gave my mind a chance to get into the game and my heart a chance to get acclimated to all the action and to put it all together so it made some kind of sense.

Eventually Linda called me back out onto the court. She showed me where to stand. Her daughter, Sarah, also, coached me. I was told where my boundaries were, and although sometimes I still got confused, I at least caught on to that sufficiently enough to keep me out of trouble most of the time. Everyone was accommodating to the novice in the pink shirt. Including the members of the opposing team who still found it necessary every now and then to tell me to stay out of the middle . . . I guess those were the times when I was getting a little too enthused. They even set me up for a shot! I managed to grab the ball and when I realized everyone was waiting for me to take a shot at the hoop, one of the women in yellow told me where to stand and everyone stayed back to give me a chance to shoot. Much to my amazement, the ball actually obeyed my command and I managed to score a point! Wouldn’t I have felt terrible if I had missed after everyone had given me every opportunity to make that basket!?

The game went on for the longest 50 minutes of my life. I was so pooped by the end of it, I had thought before it was over that I was going to have to take myself out of the game so I could recuperate for a while.

Oh, I even managed to get initiated. The very last pass of the game went straight to my face and made contact with the left side of my nose. My lip is a tiny bit swollen this morning, and there’s a little bruising and some pain on that side of my nose now. I just laugh when I think about it. I guess you can say I’m officially a basketball player now, or, as they’re referred to in Oz, a basketballer.

Although I had thought every single woman on the Bunnies team was very accomplished and very talented, the team represents the lowest level of basketballers in the league and are very proud of the fact that they never win a game; that they only play to socialize and to have fun. Thank goodness. I can only imagine what a baseball mitt on a ping pong player would do to a successful team.

While I was playing, I noticed Norm up in the balcony looking down, watching me on the court. Up until that time I kept wondering what I was doing there; I didn’t belong there; I didn’t even care about the sport. But once I knew Norm was watching, suddenly it all made sense and I knew what I was doing and why I was there and things started to come together for me. It was a great experience and I will never forget it.

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