Wednesday, February 17, 2016

My lone dunk

When I was in my late teens, a bunch of us decided to play a game of pickup basketball at the old elementary school. The basket was a few inches short of a regulation 10 feet.

I was playing on a team with a guy named Ricky. He'd played varsity basketball and was easily the best player on this team. He also was well-known for shooting finger rolls.


When he drove to the basket, for some reason, I followed. He did his finger roll, and the ball went DING! off the front of the rim. For a fraction of a second, it hung in front of the basket.


I swooped in, grabbed the ball with two hands and slammed it gently. It was my only dunk in a game, ever. (I did, however, dunk playing HORSE or just fooling around, but that's a different story.)


No one seemed impressed with the dunk; I don't know if anyone ever mentioned it. It was impressive to me, though; I was six feet tall and about 280 pounds, after all.


 I remember it, nearly 50 years later. Boy, it felt good.


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