Basketball

I don't think I've made it any secret that my forte isn't athletic ability. I'm an incredible spectator, though, as is evidenced by the way I yelled and cheered last night as the Frankston ladies lost in regional quarterfinal play. (And by the way, long hair does not a girl make. I'm not calling out anyone in particular on the Lions' team, but are we sure all of them are female? If so, there is some definite imbalance in testosterone and estrogen. Scary. And frankly, I have no respect for a coach who puts on a full-court press with less than a minute to go and a 20+ point lead.) But, I digress.

Nonetheless, in spite of my own major shortcomings as an athlete, this afternoon was so pleasant (68 degrees and overcast), I had to do something to be outside. So, I dusted off the basketball and tried to make a few hoops. My percentage was nothing to brag about (so I won't mention it at all), but I did make a few shots.

Believe it or not, I actually made the team in 7th grade. Coach Overstreet, bless her heart, tried so hard to make something of me or at least do something with me, but my passion for academics and music left little room in my tiny brain for coordination on the court. In fact, I made a whole 2 points. I may have made some free throws in there somewhere, but I just don't remember. It seems unlikely, since I rode the bench most of my career. Still, for that one season, I have some fond memories. The most notable being the time I was standing under the basket waiting to rebound. When the ball went through the net, my brain moved away from the backboard, but my body didn't. The amusing dull thud as the ball landed on top of my head was only heightened by its roll into the corner of the gym. Even now, that whole moment plays out in slow-motion in my mind, especially the hysterical laughter of the crowd as I chased the stupid thing under the bleachers. (Not a shining moment, needless to say.)

I certainly have no business on the court or even on the bench, now, but I'm glad we've got a goal and a ball here at the house, just because of the simple fun it provides.

Eric Liddell (the Christian runner on whom the movie Chariots of Fire is based), said:

"I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast. And when I run I feel His pleasure."

I don't have the foggiest idea what that's like as a runner or a basketball player, but I've certainly known that in other areas of my life, whether "successful" in my efforts or not. I hope you've known that same sense of His pleasure in your life and abilities as well.