My
ten year old is playing basketball. We love going to her games and cheering her
on. When we signed up, we thought “This will be a nice activity for her.” But
she started playing and took off! She really enjoys it and it turns out
that she’s “got game!” So I feel like I need to teach her the “basketball
lingo” because if you really want to be a serious basketball player you’ve got to sound like a serious basketball
player. Lesson one is you’re no longer a basketball player; you are now a
“baller.” Lesson two, you no longer make baskets, you “shoot some hoops.”
Lesson three, the person with the whistle is no longer the referee; they are
now “Ref.” Lesson four, if a ball goes in the hoop without touching the rim,
you don’t say, “That ball didn’t even touch the rim,” you now say, “Swoosh!”
Lesson five, you no longer dribble down the court, you “boogie down the court.”
Lesson six, the people on your team are no longer your teammates, you refer to
them as your “Cool Buddies.” Lesson seven, the person that makes the most baskets
in a game is no longer the High Scorer, but is referred to as "The Boot
Scootin' Shooter." If you talk like this, you will be taken
seriously in this sport! Trust me, I should know, I played basketball for seven
years, and I was mediocre, at best. Which means I had plenty of time sitting on
the bench and thinking of good basketball lingo. I know what you’re thinking,
“You were mediocre in basketball too?” And the answer is yes. I could title
this blog “Mediocre part II” (refer to blog entry from Feb. 8), but that’s just lazy. You’ve got to respect those
authors who come up with new titles for their sequels and each book after
(Hunger Games, Catching Fire, Mockinjay). But I don’t know about “Divergent,”
“Insurgent,” “Maymurgent,” “Bookburgent,” or whatever they're called. I think
she just kept rhyming with that first title and that seems kind of lazy too.
You know I’m messin’ Veronica Roth (just in case she follows this blog).
Anyway,
I began to wonder about my future in basketball when I was awarded “Most
Improved” player twice in a row. The first time, I
was like, “Thanks a lot! I am honored to receive this award!” And the next time
I got the same award, I was like “Hey, something fishy is going on around
here.” Basketball was kind of hard and the skills didn’t come totally naturally
to me. But not only that, apparently
there’s a certain sense of “coolness” that I lacked in basketball too. For example, my coach and his wife used to
make fun of me for clapping every time I made a basket. What was I supposed to do,
“Boo, me!!”? No, really, I get it, you’re supposed to look cool and chill, and
act like you’re really busy playing basketball and didn’t notice that two points
you just contributed. But to me, it felt
very natural to cheer after every basket.
Maybe I could snag myself the “Most Spirited” award at the end of
the season with all of that clapping.
Another thing is that my coach used to tell my dad I would be better if
I was “more aggressive.” I didn’t understand that. I would yell at people and
jump up and down, like a crazy lady, as the other team tried to throw the ball
in. I would foul out of games, by recklessly flailing my arms about! That’s
totally aggressive! So I would get confused with the comment, “she would be
better if she was more aggressive.” But then I got older and wiser and I
realized what he really meant. That was his nice way of saying (to my dad),
“She would be better, if, she was better.” But it’s cool; he tried to sugar
coat it for my dad. He probably also said something like, “But heck, she has
improved… from when she was a baby… and couldn’t pick up balls, and stuff, and
couldn’t even say the word ‘basketball.’ But now she picks up balls…and, she
says the word ‘basketball’ all the time! You should be proud. She sure has
improved!”
I
guess it’s okay to be mediocre as long as you’re improving!
