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?!