Originally published on Facebook Thursday, November 17th 2009
I hate basketball. And yet, a bare hour after starting my days off, I find myself, armed with Diet Mountain Dew and glued to the ESPN Family of Networks as I marvel in the sheer insanity of 24 straight hours of college basketball. Currently, the nation of hoops fanatics not at work today is enjoying a delicious breakfast of Drexel v. Niagara.
My first break (around 2 AM or so) saw St. Mary's v. San Diego State. Lunch (around 3.30 this morning) saw us watching Hawaii v. Northern Colorado. So far, the insanity of it all: every single game has been live. Which means that Drexel and Niagara tipped off at about 8 AM Eastern Time. And before them, St. Peter's and Monmouth tipped at the crack of dawn- 6 AM.
And yet, I hate basketball. I've always hated basketball. I found it boring to watch and damn near tortuous to play-- like most book loving, PE hating youngsters, I wasn't good at most sports. I could kick a soccer ball around with a certain amount of daring panache, if not a complete lack of skill- but aside from that, I was fairly dismal and whatever sport came my way. I would shoulder the burden, tell myself constantly that this was only forty minutes or so of my life, try and dodge the screaming, naked wrestlers that insisted on revelling in their nudity after practice, which had me cowering in a corner, trying to poke out my mind's eye and wishing devoutly for a pencil to poke out my real eyes as well.
In short, sports and me were never properly introduced. And I was terrible- no, beyond terrible, excremental when it came to basketball. I think my frustration had a lot to do with the fact that basketball involved sticking a cumbersome round ball through a small net suspended in the air. In no other sport is such precision demanded. Football requires you merely to break the plane of a big-ass endzone or split uprights that are fo'sho larger than a basketball net. Soccer involves a hellacious amount of running, but still- a bigger target than basketball. Perhaps hockey could come close to being a frustratingly small target to hit- but my frustrations with hockey tend to center around the puck moving too damn fast for me to see more than anything else.
And no, kids, golf is not a sport. Before any of you say anything. Golf is, as what's his ass said, a good walk spoiled. Not. A. Sport.
So yeah. I found basketball frustrating, was no good at it and detested it for the majority of my existence. Like most children of my generation, I lived in awe of Michael Jordan- went to see the Iowa Women's Team with the NCAA Tournament came to town in 1993- and remember Iowa Men's Team Member Chris Street dying tragically early in that ice storm in the 4th Grade. Other than the distant knowledge that both Acie Earl and BJ Armstrong were cool- and the fact both played for Iowa was double-cool, my knowledge of basketball was limited at best.
In short, I hate basketball. So why am I watching Drexel play Niagara with such enthusiasm? Especially at 8.30 in the morning, when technically, I haven't gone to bed yet?
The ugly and slightly disturbing thought rears its ugly head: I might actually be turning into a red-blooded male who enjoys sporting events. This is a new and hithertofore (yeah, that's right, I went there English language. What are you gonna do about it?) alien experience for me. I'm not used to this enjoying sports stuff. I'm not used to following random teams with mild enthusiasm. I'm not used to thinking that a good breakfast for basketball is a plate of buffalo wings and a Budweiser...
Dammit, this is just weird. Yet, like Lady GaGa, I intend to embrace the weirdness and just go along for the ride. It may be a novelty to actually fill my bracket out in March (like I do every year, despite my previous distaste for basketball) with something resembling knowledge. It might be a novelty to understand why they call foul on a little shove and yet when big, tall redwoods of players go sprawling into floor, they do nothing. It may be a novelty to actually understand and enjoy basketball.
It was even stranger working my first basketball game this past week. I found myself watching Iowa's dismal performance and being astonished at the fact that even I, basketball neophyte could comprehend just what a trainwreck was unfolding before my very eyes. Given the presence of six ranked teams in the Big 10- at least for right now- and given the fact that we couldn't land a three to save our lives and the sloppy defense and this, that and the other thing- the fact we put up a mere 50 points against that titan of basketball the University of Texas- San Antonio did not, I think bode well.
And surprisingly, this sentiment has been pretty much confirmed to me by everyone I've met thus far. If the men do not improve against Duquesne (or however you spell that) then by the time we get to the Big 10 season, we may be wishing the football team was playing for them. Or Coach Lickliter may be looking for a new job- though it would have to a true disaster by that point for that to be seriously considered I think. (And in his defense, rebuilding programs takes time and recruits. But college basketball, given the high turnover of stars to the NBA is the one sport which doesn't usually grant coaches a lot of time.)
But by the final buzzer and the flood of dejected and irked fans leaving Carver-Hawkeye, I was astonished to find that I had watched a basketball game- and more to the point, comprehended it fairly well. Which hasn't really happened to me before.
So, in the spirit of ESPN's beautiful insanity of 24 hours of college hoops, I think I shall declare the 2009-2010 Season, the season where I locate my inner balla and comprehend basketball a bit. It will, I think, never hold the place of football or soccer in my sports universe, but it has already endeared itself to me by being considerably less boring to watch than baseball.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need a refill of Diet Dew and there's a paper I have to write too, I guess. Plus, I need to check the score...
No comments:
Post a Comment