I was never an athletic child. Even when i played sports, i never put much effort into them. Hence, i was never very good. Hence, i hated playing sports.
I think i tried every sport in the book: lacrosse, dance, ice skating, gymnastics, soccer, etc. In high school, my dad was a superstar basketball player. He was in several newspapers, won several trophies, and had many admirers who knew just how amazing he was at basketball. Therefore, being the oldest of his kids, he put my sister and I in basketball early to fulfill his legacy.
So it turned out basketball wasn't my sport. Just like all of them had been. My father was never disappointed in me, because unlike some he never pressured me to be as great as he was. He wasn't one of those parents who tried to make their kids perfect, as long as we put effort into it he was happy. Anyway, when i say basketball wasn't my sport, i mean i physically could not play basketball. Dribbling without my eyes locked on the ball was nearly impossible. This caused for actual running and dribbling at the same time actually impossible. I have never been an aggressive person, therefore stealing the ball away from someone was out of the question. Hitting or shoving anyone of any kind was off limits for me as well.
I played for a couple years, and not once had i made a basket. I hadn't even been close enough to the basket in order to make a goal. But i didn't mind- i didn't care about the competitive aspect of the game. I was just in it to spend time with my friends. I'm sure my dad cringed at my lack of athleticism, but hey, he got it later with my little brother.
During my last year of playing basketball, my series of unfortunate scoring events suddenly had hope to redeem themselves one game when one of my team mates passed me the ball as i was standing right under the basket. The game had been played really intense by my team members, and it was during the last quarter of the game my coach had finally put me in the play, just so my mom could get a couple "action shots" of me on the court. It was probably an accident the ball was passed to me in the first place. But it was, and i didn't know what to do with it, so i froze.
I literally watched the ball land in my hand, the other team closing in on me, and my coach screaming something incoherent at the sidelines. My teammates kept pointing up at the basket, the girl guarding me got closer and closer making my heart beat soar, the basket above kept getting farther and farther away, and my father was yelling at me to "SHOOT!".
And I didn't. I did not shoot the ball. I sat there, paralyzed with fear. Rigid. Doing nothing. Nada.
The ball ended up getting stolen out of my hands by that darn girl who was just doing her job in guarding me. My team ended up winning the game, no thanks to me. But I think back to that moment and wish i hadn't just stood there. Why didn't i just try to make the shot? Why didn't i try to make my dad proud? Why didn't i do anything except stand there? Would i have made the shot if i had tried? Could I have won the game for my teammates?
I will never know, because i never tried.
No comments:
Post a Comment