I didn't have internet for a while. That sucked. I had to go to Barnes and Noble to get online and between my niece and myself I never had time to update, though I have thought about it. It's the thought the counts, right?
Anyways, I thought of something during this weekend. On Saturdays I am sometimes a gym manager for CSL (Christian Sports League) Basketball at my church. I basically run the scoreboard, make sure spectators follow our gym rules, pay refs, collect money from teams and do the official book if a team doesn't have someone. I first learned how to do basketball stats when I was in 8th grade. Since my friend Sara and I were had been playing a while the high school guys coach decided we knew the rules well enough to learn how to run the table and got our moms (who were running the table at the time) to teach us. It was exciting for us. We were at all the games anyways so it gave us something more to do. I can run a scoreboard, keep a book and run a shot clock. Since I've been doing it so long I like doing it on the side to make a little extra cash.
Back to the original subject, though.
CSL is basically teams of mostly older men (mostly 30s-40s or older, with a few my age to late 20s) who really love to play basketball. Alot of them are out of shape, sweaty and hairy and, for the most part, pretty gross ... and they all think they are Kobe - just like they were in there prime. Don't get me wrong, some of the guys are pretty good and at least one or two played some college ball, but in general ... let's just say it can be fun to watch. But there's this one older man I really enjoy watching.
He's the kind of old man who is really difficult to ever picture being young. Alot of players you I can picture younger, - shave a few pounds here, get rid of some gray hairs or wrinkles there and see the "baller" they once were, but not this guy. He's at least mid-50s or older and kind of reminds me of the Monopoly man with more of a gut. He's sweet and has a pretty nice shot when he manages to get open, but what I love about watching him is how absorbed he is in the game. He comes to the games not in shorter "old man" shorts but in sort of baggy gym shorts and nice Nikes like most younger guys and runs up and down the court with surprising vigor - he evens gets in a foul or two sometimes. He runs the team and cheers or coaches from the bench, making sure everyone gets good playing time - this man just loves basketball.
I'd seen him play many times before, but it just hit me as I sat there watching him - this is why I love sports so much.
I've never been huge into following professional cricuits closely but I love to watch most sports. I love to see grown men and women turn into 10-year-olds again when they win a big game or make a great play. Whether it's watching a 40-year-old man's eyes light up when he hits a shot or seeing a team of professional athletes rush a kicker who just got them in to the Superbowl (yes, I watched the Saints game today. Still going to be cheering on the Colts though) there's just something fascinating to me about sports.
I don't play basketball much anymore -to be honest, I was a pretty average player in my opinion but I got a lot of playing time and had fun - but that's how I feel when I play volleyball. I love it when a hitter smashes a good set or I make a tough save. Sometimes my competitive nature gets in the way and I lose sight of why I still play, but one play can put things into perspective.
With sports media, pros dating pop stars and actresses, trade deadlines, steroids and salary hassles it's sometimes difficult to remember why we even watch in the first place. It's easy to get frustrated with the pro sports world and to even want to stop watching. But then those magic moments happen and all the other stuff goes away. You see these professional athletes become that old man who is happy making one basket or the 10-year-old who wanted to do their favorite thing for the rest of his/her life.
Watching that man reminded me of that. I don't know if there was a real point to all of this other than sometimes I get inspiration from unexpected places. I'd been sitting on the bench for almost 3-hours when I saw him play and it just made me smile. It made me smile and I wanted to write it down.
'Nuff Said,
Crysania
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