Finding Hoops in Guatemala
So, I wanted to share a bit about my time trying to play basketball down in Guatemala. It wasn’t like back home, where you can just find a park or a gym easily. Took some real effort.
First thing I did when I got settled in Antigua for a bit was just look around. Walked through different neighborhoods. You see soccer fields everywhere, naturally. Basketball courts? Not so much. The ones I did spot were usually pretty rough. Cracked concrete, maybe a net missing, sometimes the rim looked kinda crooked.
Getting the Ball Rolling
I started asking people. My Spanish isn’t perfect, but “dónde puedo jugar baloncesto?” gets the point across. Some folks shrugged, others pointed vaguely. It wasn’t like there was a known spot everyone went to.
- Checked out a couple of parks that were mentioned. One was mostly dust with hoops.
- Looked near schools, but usually locked up tight after hours.
- Finally, someone mentioned a place, sort of a community space, that sometimes had games.
Went over there late afternoon. Sure enough, a few guys were shooting around. It wasn’t a crowd, maybe 5 or 6 guys total. The court was okay, better than the others I’d seen. Still outdoors, concrete, but the rims were decent.
The Actual Game
I just kind of hung around, bounced my own ball for a bit. Eventually nodded at them, they nodded back. Pointed, asked if I could run. Basic stuff. They waved me on. We played 3-on-3. It was scrappy. Definitely physical. Not a lot of fancy plays, just hard drives and quick shots. The altitude, even in Antigua, you feel it when you’re not used to it. I was winded pretty quick.
Communication was mostly non-verbal. Head nods, pointing, the occasional “bueno” or a grunt. Didn’t matter. We were just playing. Passed the ball, tried to score, played some D. It felt good, just raw basketball.
Why This Stuck With Me
You might wonder why I’m even talking about this simple pickup game. Well, I was actually in Guatemala mainly for a language course, trying to finally improve my Spanish after years of saying I would. It was intense, sitting in class, doing homework. Felt like my brain was fried most days.
Finding that game, even though it took effort and wasn’t some top-tier experience, was my escape. It broke up the routine. It was something physical, something familiar but in a totally new context. Just sweating it out on that concrete court with strangers I barely spoke a word to… it grounded me.
It wasn’t about becoming a great player or finding the best competition. It was about the process. The search, the interaction, the simple joy of playing the game, even on a dusty court in Central America. It made the whole trip more real. So yeah, playing basketball in Guatemala? It’s possible. Just gotta be persistent and not expect Madison Square Garden.
