[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J9FImc2LOr8]
When I was in fifth grade, I was the tallest person on the YWCA basketball team.
This height advantage (combined with some hand-eye coordination) made me a semi-decent player.
I remember the first basket I made. My dad – who I should tell you resembles a Persian teddy bear with black Albert Einstein hair – did a cartwheel across the wooden court in the middle of the game.
Since then, he has thought that if I fail as a journalist, I can always turn to a different career: Professional basketball player in the WNBA.
“You can be Lee-sah Les-lee,” he said to me, in a slight Persian accent.
Even when he calls me in college, he asks me about basketball.
“Did you join the team?”
No, dad. I did not join the Boston University basketball team.
“Why not? You are sooooo good,” he says, a little disappointed that I have not yet walked on to a Division I college basketball team…
It’s not that I don’t like playing basketball. It’s just that every year that I grow older, I get less and less coordinated.
Gone is the time when I was the tallest on the team. My 20-year-old self can barely run a mile these days (thanks, 10th grade stress fracture).
But, today, I made my cheerleading dad proud: I played basketball with the boys of CSPA.
When we got to the basketball court, Jake (one of the campers), greeted me with a new nickname: female Kobe.
I took this new nickname to heart and put my game face on in hopes of making the Harvey duo (you do not want to make James mad when it comes to sports) and my other teammates proud.
We decided to play to seven, a small enough number to get us to dinner on time but a big enough number to get a scrimmage going.
The young Harvey kicked off the game with a nice layup shot. 1-0.
After about five minutes of running back and forth (what seemed like hours to me, of course), the other James scored too.
The rest of the game is kind of a blur – mostly because running back and forth makes me dizzy – but ONE MOMENT changed it all.
After missing basket after basket and only being useful when James needed someone to set a pick, it was my time to shine.
With one point left until we would be declared winners, the pressure was on. I was at the top of the key when James looked at me and passed the ball.
On a whim, I shot the ball from the key and BAM. We won.
“You made the headline!” Steve shouted.
Yeah, that’s right. The WNBA wish they had me.
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| Me and some of the ballers at Cuesta Park (Minus Steve Harvey!) Photo by Maria Do/CSPA |