Hoop Dreams

I have not posted on this blog since November.

I have a reason.

Not an excuse.

A reason.

I’m a basketball junkie. I played, or attempted to play, from junior high to high school and walked on for a couple of years with a small college team. That was long ago.

Now I watch.

I watch the NBA. Men’s and women’s college games. Teams that I follow and teams that I chance upon while channel surfing. March Madness is a wonderful time for me. And the NBA playoffs start this week.

For the past five seasons, I have been on the coaching staff for the Estes Park High School Men’s Basketball team. It’s a small school– about 350 students. This year, our win-loss record wasn’t a HOOSIERS story. We finished well back and didn’t make the playoffs.

Let’s keep this part secret. I’m not really a coach. I help out at practices where I can. But old legs have lost their spring. My jump shots fall short, and any thoughts of dunking again are only dreams. On game nights, I sit at the end of the bench, pat players on the back, listen to frustrations, fill water bottles, and make sure the kid whose dad couldn’t make the game knows someone is cheering for them. At the letterman’s awards ceremony at the end of the year, the school’s Athletic Director thanked me for volunteering and called me a mentor. That was kind.

But the fellas call me coach.  That’s an honor.

When I hear the thump of the ball on the hardwood, the squeak of shoes on the court, and the swish of a made basket, I wish I were seventeen again.