I Once Made An Amazing Basketball Play … That My Coach Hated

Though I now love basketball as an adult, I wasn’t into it at all as a child.  In fact, I didn’t really start playing basketball until I entered seventh grade.  I’m guessing a four inch growth spurt (also, my last growth spurt) prompted this interest in the sport.

I liked it a lot, more than football, but had some catching up to do with the guys who played in the youth programs.  Luckily, I was from a small town, so if you tried out for the team … you were pretty much on the team.

Seventh and eighth grade basketball treated me well.  I wasn’t anything better than average, but I learned a lot about the sport and, even more importantly, had a great time.

By ninth grade, I was feeling pretty good about myself.  I still wasn’t anywhere close to being the star of the team, but I regularly did particularly well on the “B” team, so I thought I still had plenty of room to improve, and I believed that I would improve.

With my confidence soaring, I once made a play that I thought was inspired, efficient, and full of style.  My coach completely disagreed.  Thankfully, this all happened at practice.

I don’t remember the exact circumstances, but I somehow gained possession of a loose ball while playing defense.  I remember I had to chase it down and bend over to retrieve it.  I knew members of my team were already fast breaking to our basket.  Sure, I could pick the ball up, turn, and then thrown it down court to them, but that would waste precious seconds, seconds that would allow the defense time to catch up.

In perhaps one of the most ingenious moments in basketball history, I figured out how to bypass those three wasteful moves into one economical motion that would surely result in two points.

I bent over to grab the ball with both hands.  I spread my legs nice and wide.  And then, with the efficiency of an NFL center and with my butt facing the basket in which we wanted to score, I launched the ball with both hands right between my legs to the lead fast breaker.

I’ll never know if my teammate scored because I stopped watching him when I heard my coach scream, “AXLE!”

A quick side note: My coach called me “Axle” after the character “Axle Foley” from Beverly Hills Cop.  Remember, this was all happening in the early ’90s.  I kind of liked the nickname.  “Axle” always sounded pretty cool.  Of course, looking back, I’m pretty sure half the time he wasn’t actually saying “Axle.”  Apparently, my unorthodox methods often befuddled him.

Coach had a brief chat with me about my pass.  He said something along the lines of, “I never … ever … want to see that again.  … Ever.”

I’ve watched a lot of professional basketball since that moment.  I’ve loved the NBA, and, more specifically, the NBA playoffs, since ninth grade.  In all the games I’ve watched during the last thirty years, I can attest that Coach was right.  I’ve never seen that pass executed by, well, anyone.

To this day, though, I maintain that it was a brilliant pass.  I hit my breaker right on the money.  Sure, it looked silly, but it was so efficient.

Man, I loved basketball.

Maybe I should have played past ninth grade.

Maybe one day I’ll tell you why I didn’t.

basketball

(Did you enjoy this article?  Check out Scott William Foley’s Dr. Nekros e-book series HERE)

 

 

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Today, Something Embarrassing Happened To Me In Front Of My Entire Class

Statistically speaking, when you stand in front of people for eight hours a day, five days a week, during a career that could span as long as thirty-four years, something embarrassing is bound to occur every once in a while, right?

Well, my friends … read on.

Today I met my seniors in high school for the first time.  During 5th period, which is around eleven a.m., I stood before a group of students as they listened attentively.  While I ran through the syllabus with them, I suddenly felt a tickle in my nose–the right nostril, to be precise.

I ignored it and kept talking in the hopes that it would subside.

But then I felt something jar loose.

I realize now that the smart thing to do at that point would to simply excuse myself for a moment, blow my nose with my back to the class or out in the hall, and then return to addressing them as a group.

That would have been the smart thing.

Instead, I pressed on.

I’m not sure what I expected to happen, but some trace of flawed logic believed that an item breaking free from my nasal passage would not necessarily result in a total surrender to gravity.  I guess I thought–hoped–that whatever had emancipated itself would remain in place.

Before I knew it, I felt a string of cold, wet … gunk … hanging from my nostril.

Not dropping from my nostril–HANGING FROM MY NOSTRIL.

Fight or flight kicked in.

I could run out of the room, or I could take action.

I chose action.

Did I have time to grab a tissue?  That would mean that the detritus would remain in place as I traversed the span of the room.  No, that would not do.  The debris must be dealt with immediately.  I could not risk providing a picture opportunity.  This moment would not live on in social media infamy.

With a whip of the hand, a strategic swipe of the forefinger, the goo got wiped away.

It did not dissipate, nor did it fling to the floor.  No, it clung to my finger, still easily discernible to the observant eye.

Operating on pure instinct, I moved to the tissue box, yanked out a tissue, and swiped the miserable muck off my person before jettisoning it into the garbage.

And then … I faced the class.

Once again … fight or flight time.

Within a span of five seconds, I said the following …

“Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry!”

“Well, that was gross.”

“It just fell out, out of nowhere!”

“Yuck, it was gray.  Probably gray matter.  My brains are falling out!”

“If I’m not here tomorrow, you’ll know why.”

“At least you’ve all got a story to tell now.”

“Let’s just move on and pretend this never happened.”

So, there you have it.  Is that the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me in front of an entire class?  So far, probably.  Hey, I made it sixteen years teaching before something abruptly and uncontrollably left my body.  That’s a pretty good run, right?

Man.

I hope that’s as bad at it gets.

 

Emoticon, Face, Smiley, Unwell, Unhappy, Embarrassing

(Did you enjoy this article?  Check out Scott William Foley’s latest book HERE!)