h o o p s

The Gardener, a.k.a. "Chief" for this post, has taken up following some college basketball the past few years. ("Chief" was the Gardener's nickname in college even before he was captain of the team.) 

Usually he goes with other guys, but this year I've joined him a couple of times and it has been wonderfully fun to be back in a college gym watching an exciting, close match. We especially follow two brothers from our city at different colleges, whose dad was an NBA star. For sure, they may be too someday, they are that good. Meanwhile they are fun to watch at this stage of their careers.

Squint ... and I can be back in our college gym. Not much really has changed from years ago. I see the same kind of students sprawled on the bleachers, some of the same cheers (though we never threw cheerleaders in the air like they do today), the same occasional injured player in a flannel shirt and on crutches, hanging around the bench. While the longish hair length is similar to our "era," the shorts these guys were wearing are extremely different ... baggy and more like long culottes than the shorts of our era (see the Gardener in sidebar, early 70s).  I wonder how they can get around and even play the game, but they manage and are as fast as any. I find myself screaming at the ref, cheering, and yelling as if it were my home team. It doesn't really matter that much to me if the team I root for wins or loses, but apparently it's just easy to catch the fever.

As we left the gym the other night, I grabbed the "Chief's" hand, looked up at him, and tried to get the sense of walking out of a game with him just as we used to years ago. His hair would be wet from showering and he'd be limping with sore muscles. We'd head with our friends out to the local diner for a sandwich. Man, that was just yesterday.

not my photo