Currently, I’m sitting on my couch watching game 7 of the NBA Eastern Conference finals.  I’m not really a huge basketball fan, but I figured I should tune in and cheer the Heat on a little bit. 

As I sit here and watch, I’m reminded of my short stint as a basketball player.  Yes, I played basketball in my younger years…for half a season.  You see, I was more of a baseball girl growing up and played for eight years in an all girls league.  Over the years, baseball was something that I eventually became pretty good at.  Basketball was something I signed up for because all my friends were playing.  In my silly head, I thought baseball skills = basketball skills.  Umm…not so much.   

I think a couple of things led to my ultimate defeat. 

• My coach was mean.  He wanted a winning team.  I did absolutely nothing to help him achieve his goal.  And his lackluster coaching efforts did nothing to turn me into a basketball player.
• I was slow.  Running back and forth over and over again was not my thing.
• Basketball requires a kind of aggression I just didn’t have in me.  Literally clawing the ball away from other girls was not my idea of fun. 
• I’m short.  If I remember correctly, the other girls had a 3+ inch advantage over me
• My aim sucked.  I couldn’t do a layup.  And my middle name may as well have been “air ball.”

I really should have thought the whole basketball thing through.  Well, five games later, I realized the obvious.  Basketball was not my thing.

I remember the moment quite clearly.  My friend Meagan had the ball.  Two players from the other team had her covered.  I looked her way, and before I knew it, she passed the ball to me.  I panicked.  I did the only thing that made sense to me.  I faced the basket and tossed the ball towards it.  Swish.  I scored! 

You’re probably wondering how this turned into one of my most embarrassing moments ever.  Just wait…

After I made that shot, EVERYONE cheered.  My team and our spectators.  The other team and their spectators.  EVERYONE.  No one expected me to actually score.  And did I mention that I grew up in a really small town?!  My 13 year old self was humiliated. 

And then I did something I’m not proud to admit…I quit.  Yep, that was my last game.  In all fairness, I think my coach and teammates were happy with my decision.  Ha!  But in my defense, at least I tried!

You live and you learn, and when you realize it just ain’t happening, you quit. 

What’s your most embarrassing moment?!