That Time When ... I Thought I Was the Best Basketball Player
When I was in fourth grade, my grandmother signed me up for a church basketball league. I didn’t know anyone or have any friends on the team, but for some reason that didn’t deter me. Why? Because I literally thought I was the best basketball player. Let’s run down the facts as they stood at the time:
- Experience playing organized team sports? None
- Played basketball on a regular basis? Nope
- Knew a lot about the sport from watching televised basketball? Nah. I don’t think I had ever watched a real basketball game before.
So why did I think I was god’s gift to this 4th grade basketball team?
I played a ton of NBA Jam on Super Nintendo. I won 4th place in the local Blockbuster Video Game Tournament . I knew that if you pump faked a couple times, that you could increase your odds of making a shot. These virtual virtues would no doubt translate over to real basketball. How could they not?!
You are allowed to laugh. I certainly laugh, and cringe about it.
So, anyways, I thought I was the best basketball player because of my superior NBA Jam skillz – that is until I showed up for our first practice. I remember the coach. I remember the other players on the team. And, I remember the moment we were told to do a lay-up drill. What’s a lay up? How do I dribble? Where do I stand for a free throw? I did a few pump fakes during a scrimmage and put a shot up, but air balled?! People laughed at my airball. Oh. This. Is. Not. What. I. Thought. It. Would. Be. Like.
That practice was only a preview of the crushing blows my outlandish 4th grade ego would take that season.
Later that season I remember one particular game where our team trailed another in the 4th quarter. Time was ticking down, the opposing team was in possession of the ball. Full court press time! I was guarding the player with the ball. Our coach shouted out to me,
“Foul him! Foul him!”
“What?” I was bewildered. What does that mean? You want me to intentionally hurt him? I had literally no concept for what an intentional foul looked like. And so, I slapped (yes, slapped) at the player who was dribbling up the court. I don’t know what he was thinking, nor do I know what the referee was thinking, but I think they were all really confused by my behavior. I’m pretty sure someone else came up later and fouled the player so we could stop the clock.
In retrospect, its amazing to me that I lasted as long playing basketball as I did – up through freshman year of high school. It’s also a revelation to me that people put up with me at all on that team - from my coaches to my teammates. I’m still very grateful for that time. Prior to playing on that team, I really had no pre-existing concept of what it meant to be on a team, to develop skills (practice) with intentionality and discipline, and how you actually play basketball.
Most importantly, years later those relationships would be used by God to put me in a position to hear and understand the Gospel for the first time. One of the friends I made on that team drove me to youth group almost every week. And youth group led to ultimately to me hearing the Gospel.
Thank God for NBA Jam.