Oh glorious day! Oh sweet Marie this is nice! It's the first of March and old Father Winter decided to take a nap. The skies above the Kingdom of Eagle are Bronco blue as far as the eye can see. The sun is shining and I have this strange urge to take off my coat. I believe my body is experiencing "heat," but I really can't remember what this sensation is called. It's been too long.
To celebrate this grand occasion, Michael and I grabbed a basketball and dashed for the car. I was planning on a relaxing drive to the park for some hoops action. But just before opening the car door a realization hit me. "Wait!," the realizer in my mind screamed. "You've got basketball hoops right next door to your house dude!!"
(My realizer can be kind of rude, dontcha think?)
"That's right," I responded. "We do have hoops next door. In fact, we have an entire park right next to our freaking house! It's got tennis courts and everything! It's one of the main reasons we bought this house! How did I forget this fact?!"
"Daddy, are you talking to yourself again?," Michael added.
Have you heard the expression, "hiding in plain sight?" Well that pretty much sums up the mysterious park next to our house that I absolutely forgot about until now. I've been walking or driving past this particular next-door park for so long this winter that my mind simply started to ignore its presence. It became invisible to me. Poof! Gone!
(I never said I was smart. "Look at me! Now I'm on a horse!," handsome? Absolutely. Smart? No.)
Anyway, Michael was super excited to have basketball hoops right next door and the two of us unveiled our unique brand of roundball. Michael dribbled up, down and around the court while laughing and executing his own play-by-play. I discovered that my verticle jump ain't so verticle anymore. I also discovered that my shooting motion has been altered somewhat during the past 20 years. Shots that once soared effortlessly through the air now launch like cruise missles. I felt the uge to shout, "Fore!" whenever the ball left my hand.
As if my "shooting" display wasn't frustrating enough, I had to suffer the indignity of a patronizing little sign some smarty-pants painted on the backboard. "Do not hang on rim," the sign said. Five little words shattering my manhood and reminding me once again that I am not 6-foot-8 and awesome.
Thanks a million.
I didn't take this indignity without a fight. No siree! After getting a good head of steam, I managed to "soar" high enough to touch the net below the rim. I tripped somewhat and slammed into the chain-link fence, but it was totally worth it! I even got a "good job Daddy!" from Michael.
So there!
Always remember the parks located next to your house, kiddies!
- Dave
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1 comment:
Maybe you and Scott could shoot some hoops...basketball really isn't his thing but from the sounds of it you might be matched opponents. :) Ok enough teasing. I am actually jealous you had a chance to spend the day outside. My only consolation prize is the new canary we have in the office...he made it sound like spring. :)
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