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One recent evening after work, The Boy asked me if I would play basketball with him. I said, “Sure. On the PlayStation?”
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After a long work week and a two hour drive home, I was beat. I really wasn’t up to shooting the ball around. Then I saw the look on his face and was reminded how even the smallest time investments reap the best memories down the road. I don’t want my kids to remember me as the dad who was always too tired to play with them. That thought has the ability to make me get my butt off the couch and play some ball. Besides, I missed my workout due to work the previous day. I decided that this would be a make-up session.
I asked Bae if she wanted to come along. She was going to go to the store with Adi, but the mention of shooting some hoops, she promptly begged out. Bae, The Boy, and I jumped in the truck and head to the neighborhood court while Adi went to the store solo.
We went to the court and started out with a game of “Around the World” to warm up. If you are not familiar with the game, this is where each person takes a shot from predetermined spots around the court. Each of us took turns shooting until The Boy decided he would finish us off. He decided that silly time was over and he wanted to win.
The evening was nice and breezy, so we had to shake the chill off. I challenged the kids to a game of two-on-one. The two of them against me. They laughed and started putting together their game plan. Surely they can beat the “old man”. I gave them one warning: they would not win if they did not play as a team or played selfishly.
Their game plan was obvious. Swarm around me as I would bring in the ball. This is where my size and height advantage came into play. Swish! First point goes to Daddy.
Now they have the ball. Bae would lure me over to her with the ball and kick it over to her brother on the other side of the court. He would use his speed to avoid me as I adjusted to get over to him to stop him from getting an easy shot. The game went on this way as the afternoon turned to dusk. I was up by two when we had to call the game because of the fading daylight.
I knew they wanted to win, so I gave them one last opportunity. We went to the 3-point line and I said, “Each of you gets two shots from the 3-point line. If you make one out of four shots, we can go home and tell Mommy that you guys beat the old man.” I figured it would be nearly impossible because neither of them had been able to make a shot from this distance in the past.
The Boy steps up to the 3-point line. He dribbled the ball with confidence, yet knew that it was a tough shot to make. He bent his knees and used the form that I’d taught him over and over. He jumped up and let his shot fly.
Swish!
Nothing but net…
There were celebratory “high-fives” all the way to the truck and on the ride home (except my hands were on the wheel, so I offered verbal congratulations).
When we got home, I kept my word and told Adi that the kids beat their old man in a game of hoops. However, I told her the full story of how I was smoking them until it got dark. Even still, it didn’t take away the joy of playing as a team, cooperating, and making…
The Shot.
Mr. Man
