Practice badly needed…

I played basketball again last night. At last, after almost a year of skipping the weekly schedule our company is reserving for the male employees.

How was it? Sort of disappointing.

I was shooting straight during the shootaround, but the ball kept bouncing off the rim of the basket. I huffed and puffed along while my officemates ran on fastbreak plays. I missed a lot of easy shots. I had to get myself contented with trying to make good passes to cutters near the basket. Got a few rebounds, but all in all I wasn’t able to defend well.

I know that if I had the time to practice the way I used to, I won’t look like a slug inside the court. Until now I still feel disgusted with myself.

I miss the days when I could slash to the front of the rim to make a pass or try to make a layup, or throw a 3 when my defender leaves me, or run a really quick fastbreak with one or two guys on the wings.

I want to avoid calling myself a ‘has-been’, but the word kept creeping into my mind since last night. Maybe I ought to get my butt off and try to get myself back in shape. To reclaim lost glory, you say?

No. I want to be able to play well so that when my son grows up, he’ll have a chance to experience playing with his father.

I didn’t know how that feels. I never experienced it when I was a kid. I know that for a time he will be proud of it as much as I would if I had the chance to — and I won’t just sit here and deprive him of that chance.