A Bit About That “Friendly” Game
So, I heard about this “friendly basketball” thing. Thought, okay, cool, a chill way to get some exercise, shoot some hoops, nothing too serious. That was the plan, anyway. Sometimes plans just go sideways, you know?
I got to the court. Stretched a bit, you know, the usual. Tried a few layups, bricked most of ’em. My shot felt off from the get-go. Just one of those days, I guess. Some other folks started trickling in. We were just kind of milling about, shooting around, not much talking. Just the thud of the ball and squeak of shoes.
Then someone, let’s call him “Coach” for kicks, decided we should make it a proper game. That’s when ‘friendly’ started to get a bit blurry. He started dividing us up. You know how it is, that awkward schoolyard pick. I just stood there, trying to look like I knew what I was doing. Ended up on a team with a couple of guys who looked like they actually played before, and one dude who seemed as lost as I felt.
- First, we did some basic drills. Passing back and forth. Dribbling around cones some guy brought.
- I was trying to get my rhythm, focusing on just catching the ball, not dropping it. Baby steps.
- My hands were already getting a bit sweaty. Nerves, maybe? Or just out of shape.
Then the game started. And boy, did it start. “Friendly” went out the window pretty quick for some. There was this one guy on the other team, super intense. Every rebound was his, every loose ball. He was all elbows and grunts. My teammate, the lost-looking one, actually got knocked down. No foul called, of course. Just “play on.”
I mostly tried to stay out of the way, to be honest. Passed the ball when I got it. Tried to play some defense, but I was getting screened and cut past like I wasn’t even there. My main contribution was probably just running up and down the court, adding to my step count. I managed to snag a rebound once, more by luck than skill, and quickly passed it off before I turned it over. My shot? Still MIA. Air-balled one spectacularly. That was embarrassing.
We got scored on. A lot. Our “Coach” was yelling instructions, but it was mostly just noise to me. I was just trying to breathe. My lungs felt like they were on fire. This wasn’t exactly the chill shootaround I’d pictured.
But then, something kinda cool happened. The guy who got knocked down? He got back up, dusted himself off, and actually made a pretty decent defensive play later. Stole the ball clean. Our side actually cheered. Even I managed a clumsy high-five. We still lost, by a mile, but that little moment was alright.
After what felt like forever, the game ended. We were all drenched in sweat. Some guys were already talking about the next game, analyzing plays. I just wanted water. Lots of it. We did the whole “good game” thing, tapping hands. Some of it felt genuine. Some of it, well, felt like we were just going through the motions.
So, “friendly basketball.” Yeah, it was basketball, alright. The “friendly” part? It was there, in bits and pieces. Mostly, it was a reminder that I seriously need to work on my cardio. And maybe my shot. And pretty much everything else. But hey, I showed up. I ran around. I didn’t break anything. Guess that counts for something.
