But once it did...the kid was a PROBLEM on the court.
My greatest pleasure used to be having a basketball in my hands, knowing that the defender in front of me was at my mercy. The pressure wasn't on me to score, it was on him to stop me form scoring. If he was bigger and slower, I'd take him to the perimeter, shake and bake and head straight for the rim. If he was shorter and quicker, I'd yell 'Mouse in the house!', post him up and use my height advantage. I got very adept at dissecting defenders like that smelly frog in 9th grade biology. On defense, I liked to roam around near the rim and block shots. I have put the fear of Brandon in more than a few ballplayers, took a couple youngsters under my wing, had some epic on-court battles and dunked on more than my fair share of people.
The first time I injured my knee was during gym class in 11th grade. Me and a close friend were in the middle of one of those epic battles that I spoke of in the above paragraph, taking turns abusing each other. I got passed him and laid the ball in off the glass to win the game, but I came down awkwardly and screamed like a little girl. My ACL was torn. If you play sports, basketball especially, you are cringing right now. Because you know that that is the one injury that you DO NOT want. I knew immediately that since I didn't have insurance, and since it wasn't life threatening, that I wouldn't be able to go to the doctor and get the surgery I needed.
Since then, I have injured both knees a total of about 7 times. The most amazing part about all those injuries is that I still was able to keep 70% of my athleticism. I could still run fast and jump high; maybe not to the level that I could before the injuries, but enough that when I walked into a gym, people had to respect me.
Until the last injury...
I always knew that since I never got treatment for any of my injuries, there would come a time when my luck would run out. The last time I injured my knee, which was about 7 or 8 months ago, a strange thing happened. It didn't get better on it's own. Imagine that! Now, I can jump nearly as high as I used to. My lateral movement is pathetic. My reaction time has slowed to a crawl. And my first step is laughable.
I am no longer the predator on the court that I used to be. Now, I'm the prey. Those same ball players who wouldn't dare get out of pocket and run their mouth for fear that they would be my next victim, are now able to do to me what I once did to them. m
So I don't play any more. I'm choosing to go out like the 1998 Mike Jordan, hitting that pull-up jumper over Russell to win the championship. Not like the 2003 Mike Jordan, hanging on just a bit too long; long enough to see the young gladiators come at the throne. Does it suck? Yeah. But for the most part, I'm okay with it. That's how it is supposed to happen: the hunter becomes the hunted, the teacher becomes the pupil. I mean, I wish that it wouldn't have happened at 25 years old, but it's OK. I had a good run. Like I said, I have abused my fair share of ball players and my name still rings out when people mention the top ball players in this city.
And that's enough for me. Rumble, young man, rumble!
HIP HOP LYRIC OF THE DAY:
These young boys comin' up/ and they aiming for my neck/ but truth be told/I just take it as a sign of respect
-Me
1 comment:
Why does this post make me wan to cry? I care more than you about your own fucking knee. Anyway, you would go and "retire" before I got to show you who the real predator on the court is right? lol. Yes, I still talk smack.
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