Nothing but ...

I am not a natural born athlete. I don't mean athletes who top their respective sports (LeBron James, Derek Jeter, and Lance Armstrong). Those few aren't athletes; maybe not even human (I am convinced Lebron was born a 25 year-old). I am not the kid who won at sports playing on the block, though I was on the same team as those people. As per street sports etiquette all should know what that means: if paired with the best, you are the worst.

Recently though, I have undertaken to change that, at least in basketball. I lay in bed at night, listening to legal lectures, basketball in one hand, wrist exerciser in the other, working on my shot and hand strength. I spend hours at the gym walking around in circles dribbling with only my left hand. I have tried to be "that guy"; the one who never actually plays the game, but seems ever present.

Why? Well, for starters I am not ready for the full court game yet. The title of this post was no accident. The NBA's phrase "Nothing but net." doesn't apply to the average American. We simply aren't capable of hitting the swish (is there any more beautiful sounding sports term?) on a regular or predictable basis. Backyard ballers often seem as likely to miss the rim (read: backboard) as they are to hit only the net.

I may have overstate earlier that I have no athletic ability. When I was playing baseball on a regular basis I could throw a 70 Mph fastball and a decent curve (I can't do either anymore), and by the grace of some greater power I can still see the landing spot a baseball when the ball leaves the bat. I still play a mean second base. But baseball and basketball?

Seems like comparing foozeball and hockey; somehow it just doesn't quite connect.

But a glut (or lack) of skill aren't why I play. Those reasons are more personal; more about history and passion. First, I have memories associated with the sport. Seeing my brother's nose broken (twice!) with our neighbor's poorly flung elbow, beating my dad at a 1-on-1 game at 12 years old, and besting my best friend from high school (captain of the basketball team) and his dad (the guy who trained the best friend) in a game of HORSE, and a whole litany of others. These memories send a message whenever I hear the telltale dribble echoing off of walls and garages: lace up, and be sure you keep tight on D. And watch for elbows.

Second, basketball offers the greatest opportunity for embarrassing your opponents (see 1:04, 1:30 and 2:00) of any sport (I will grant soccer equal standing). Think of times on the baseball field, football field, or tennis (I only include tennis because I can't think of another example). Have you ever heard of anyone's "ankles being broken" because they were left behind off of a slick move in baseball? Can even average players pull off trick plays in football (Boise State aside)? Is tennis even a sport (No, seriously, is it?)

Finally, because basketball never bars improvement. In football, you are limited by your speed or throwing prowess, and practice will never allow you to throw that 50 yard bomb, or to two-toe-tap after a sprint while catching a a laser-like pass. In baseball, 95 Mph fastballs whizz by even college level players, leaving them wishing their hours of practice could have been combined with some innate talent. And, in tennis, people can only grunt while hitting a 2 oz. ball to a certain decibel at the amateur levels of the event (until Harvard and I get a decent argument, it isn't a sport).

In basketball, everyone can improve, and even a slacker like me, who never practiced until he was 23 years old, can improve to the point of not being "that guy" who is afraid to play.

At the end of the day, nothing but basketball offers the combination of skill, effort and memory. That may be why nothing but my best efforts will do. Until then, "that guy" will still be practicing his left handed dribbling. . .