SuperNova Afterglow: End Of Days

If This Is Tuesday...

If this is Tuesday, I can't wait to see what Thursday has in store. No Friday basketball, because my children are performing in music programs at school.

I am in awe of Him, and why I'm continually blessed by this divine intervention. How am I overcoming the baggage that comes with being a aging recluse who tries to reinvent his game amid a host of 20-somethings? I keep surprising myself and now others around the YMCA gymnasium.

I had some time to warm up today. I did consume my energy drink and other caffeine before hitting the floor with plans to keep my ego and physicality in check. No problems there, though I did some passive chest pounding after making some big plays.

I knocked down three pointers in every game. But the first was a bit of a surprise. I've been working onthejumper and it materialized in a big way when we needed a score to tie and put us in contention for the win, which we did. White Kenny, who is my age (and white ), is a smaller, savvy player who tried to trap me in the corner after collecting a pass. I put my back to him and he pressured me toward the wing, so I dribbled away to the corner, spun and leapt behind the three-point (thinking we needed a three-pointer (only needed two). It felt natural but I was thinking the whole time, 'uh-oh, what am I doing' before I regained my composure and leaned in a sweet shot that made the game 14-11, just before we won.

I wanted to chest pump, but caught myself. I wasn't going to get as worked up as I did Friday. But it started some talk after the game. I dribbled about and warmed up for the next game when my ears pricked up. I kept hearing my name and kept looking across the court to see people talking to each other and pointing to me. Some of the best players in the gym were talking about my game. I am arriving again.

It won't last, and I'm not being pessimistic but logical. But, I'm going to enjoy this for awhile before God says times up.

I was high on that energy drink. Dave stopped me while warming up and noticed me spinning about while warming up with my ball. He mentioned that I was getting 'crazy' and I made the excuse that I was just trying to stay warm because with so many people in the gym I figured I'd get rusty having to wait through two games to play my next before confessing I did have a little caffeine. I told him about Friday and he seemed to understand as I confessed my mistake hurting Jeff with the hard foul.

Back in action, I got a tough assignment guarding Matt. He's young, wiry, bouncy and can knock down outside shots when not driving a 100-miles-an-hour to the hole. What I didn't expect is on the first offensive play, he'd use his patented crossover dribble and I would deftly break up the play by cleanly swatting it away. He complemented me on the way down the floor. That picked me up even more.

Their team had a huge advantage with Matt and Brandon, who has a great inside-outside game, as he can finish with either hand under the basket and get off shot after shot. I won't call him 'old Mike,' but he's not young Mike. So I'll just say Mike had the tough assignment of guarding Brandon. I had no idea how much I would wind up helping him in that game that we eventually could have won in stupefying fashion if we had so few players to help us offensively.

Matt took few chances with me, broke off his drives and tried to can outside shots but was off his game. Hopefully, because of me, I did that. The ball started going to Brandon, who will take it the length of the court and dribble away from pressure until he was under the basket. I knew this game and was ready to double team, because he seldom looks to dump a pass. I wasn't going to give him a good look to dump the ball to Matt who wasn't finding a lane to the basket away from me to the rim. Our defensive spacing was good.

Brandon crossed the free throw lane to his left and hoisted up a right handed shot fading away. I was coming to help and knew he had committed to this and smashed that ball on release, as it rolled out of bounds. On another play, I got another piece of the ball as he took a shot. It happened so quick and in such muddled action, I can't remember how I got to the ball, but I thought I got a piece of him with that block. All he said was, "That damn, Brian got me again." I knew he wouldn't call a foul because the block probably came before the contact, which was light.

I had stuffed him up on another play and slapped the ball as he dribbled, though I didn't get it far enough away as he recollected it. After that game, Brandon came over and high-fived me for my defense. I thanked him, but tried to be modest in acknowledging it felt like cheating when I double team because I'm sneaking up on him to block his shot. I'm sure some luck did play a hand, but I am extremely confident I could give him fits if we guarded one another. I had offered to take him on D, but Mike preferred him over Matt. Perhaps, Mike didn't want to chase the rabbit down the hole. I just kept him away from it.

I can't recall if it was in that game that I adeptly ripped the ball away on defense and ran up the court and found my spot on the wing where the ball was returned to me. With a tall, young man flying at me, certain he would block my shot, I confidently stroked a three-pointer over his outstretched hands. It sweetly splashed down in the promise land. That's when I passively made an attempt to talk myself up...about how players rewarded for a defensive play have the confidence to finish an offensive play right away on the other end.

I bothered the best and quickest little guard, Elliot. I love to hound him best because it is such a challenge to get after someone so low to the ground who had the option of going under and over you. I recall cutting off his drives and discouraging him from getting inside several times with my double teams and swiping the ball away twice leading to scores for my team.

The last game, I was winded and my legs would not propel like before. There were few complaints about my play from teammates and I had one game with three people who could have been in my ear all game long but had nothing to say about my play...we won. I did try to throw one of my patently between the defender's legs passes to young Mike who was posting up. He didn't like that. It was knee-jerk. I was going to go around the guy, but my mind told me whip it between the legs. But, his legs were not open and bounced off his shoes and away to the other team for a score. I acknowledged my mistake and there were no more after that one.

I almost won that game with a three. I managed to hit the three that tied the game at 18 for us. Elliot yelled to young Mike, "Hit Brian." while I was open on the wing. He got me the ball out of the high post and I prepared to shoot when my defender came running at me. I had no legs at this point, so less confidence trying to stroke my second three-pointer in a row. The ball glanced off the top of the left side of the rim. No worries. We scored twice to end that game with a win.

After that game, I took off my goggles and grabbed my ball and shot around like I always do. The last one in the gym, still perfecting my shot. I thought about that pass I received on the wing and what I could have done to avoid the pressure. I pretended to catch the ball, hold it, give a ball fake and imagined the defender going by or stopping in front of me. I can get my shot off against anyone who hasn't a chance to time their leap. But, it's nice to get them out of your face.

I tried ball fake and dribble left. Ball fake and dribble behind my back to the right. In all scenarios, I show the ball like I am going up for a shot all in one motion. You have to sell it and not lean one way or the other so the defender has a chance to adjust to your second move. I have to keep remembering not to put the ball on the floor until I need, until I have all options to create space for my shot. Most defenders aren't good enough to stop the second move, most buying ball, head or hip fakes and putting themselves at a defensive disadvantage. I just need to keep thinking about options and my game will continue to flourish.

It was a good day. I had spasms in my knee last night. I took three Alleve before starting today and felt no pain. Now, the aches are creeping back a might. It just amazes me that with a little preparation, determination and the abilities I've been given, I can do so well on a day like today. Then, wake up the next morning, I can barely bend, dragging myself downstairs.

It's not as bad as the days of throbbing pains in ankles and knees with other difficulties I overcame to get this far. Can I take this game to other levels, levels I still dream of achieving again? Please say that is in store for me, God. If I don't praise enough the person who granted me such mysterious gifts with a basketball all my life, I shall shout His name even more.

No, really, When am I going to dunk a basketball again?

I know. I need to get back into the gym and pick up my physical training again. I'm not dropping the weight like I should. I was down to about 240 on the low-carb diet before I couldn't take it anymore. I moderate my diet, but still indulge from time to time. I'm back up to 255, but a lot stronger. How am I carrying this load and doing what I do? Just think what getting down to the playing weight of my yore between 205 and 225, before I discovered deep fried cheesy foods, will do.

Got to commit, if I dare to dream.

Okay, what's in the fridge. I'm HUNGRY! I'll try to be good.