Why I Need a Basketball Court

Sport's Dilemma

Note from Sweetie.. Last year we set a goal to finally build a basketball court in the backyard. (It had been planned into our original landscaping almost 20 years ago.) We moved the garden and then spent too much on vacation and new shingles. On Friday we got an estimate of our tax refund. Saturday I was at work and got a two-word text from Sandy. It simply said, "Basketball Court??" She was sitting at Sport's last Jr. Jazz game, so I didn’t get it...  

 

Then Sandy and the kids went and shot hoops at the church on Saturday night and Scout made her first 10-foot basket! And then this afternoon Gym Rat came in and said Sport needed some help...  Either I’m being manipulated by an organized sneaky group of co-conspirators or I really need a basketball court...

 

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OK, so now I have to tell you about our 1/2 hour at the church! Sport wanted me to move all the cars off the driveway and block the balls from rolling in the street so they could shoot some hoops. I was busy in the house so I told them if they would gather all the trash from the front yard (we finally had most of the snow melt so we could see the damage) that I would run them to the church where they could really play.

 

Sport, Scout, and Curly thought that would be awesome, so they started working. About 20 minutes later they came in and announced that they were finished. After a quick inspection, I had to agree that they had earned their prize. They each grabbed a basketball and I cautioned Drama Queen against letting Burrito's birthday cake burn and we headed for the church.

 

I reminded them that we might not be able to get a court, but since my keys fit all three buildings, we would try. We stopped at my regular hangout where the women practice once a week and we were a little discouraged by the number of cars in the lot. I sent Sport inside and he reported back that a birthday party was in full swing.

 

He climbed back in and we headed for the second building. It only had a half court, but I figured that would be good enough for us. Apparently some other kids thought the same thing, so we pointed the van toward the stake center. I guessed the odds were pretty slim that we would get the opportunity to play, but I had promised to try. 

 

There were only a couple of cars in the parking lot, so we all got out and headed for the door. As soon as we got into the hall, I could hear a ball bouncing in the gym. Undeterred, Sport decided to investigate anyway. 

There were some teenaged boys practicing at one end of the floor. I asked them if they minded if we shot for a few minutes at the other end of the court and they graciously agreed. We each had a ball and spent the next few minutes tossing them toward the hoop. 

It wasn't long before Curly got discouraged and climbed the stairs to the stage. There was no way he was going to be able to shoot that high. Scout gave up too, but she decided to start chasing the ball and passing it to me so I could shoot. At least then she could get credit for an assist.

After about 10 minutes of that, she decided to include Curly. She grabbed my pink ball and tossed it to him so he could toss it to me. Since he was still sitting on the stage, I was outside the 3-point line and then I would turn and shoot. After I made two three-pointers in a row that way, he got down off the stage so he could participate a little better. 

We shot from all over the floor and they were running and giggling and chasing the ball. Then I announced it was almost time to go. Sport kept saying, "Just one more shot!" Scout grabbed her ball and started trying to make one last shot of her own. After numerous valiant attempts, and a few that actually hit the rim, I consoled, "Don't worry, soon your arms will be strong enough to get it up there."

With that bit of advice, she took a deep breath and threw the ball with all her might. It hung for a moment on the top of the rim and then gently fell through the hoop! We started yelling and high-fiving. Curly looked a little sad as he slipped on his jacket. He was the only one who hadn't made a shot that day.

My sweetie cleared the driveway so they could play.

I leaned over and suggested, "Want me to ask one of those boys to lift you up so you can make it?" He looked over at the boys who were having their own half-court game and then shook his head. "Really," I said, "I'll ask them for you." Again he shook his head and clutched his ball tighter. So I did what any mother would do...

"Hey, would one of you guys lift my little guy up so he can make a basket?" They stopped their game and one of the tallest boys walked toward us. He lifted Curly high over his head until he was about two feet under the basket and then

SWISH!

First time. All the boys cheered with us as we headed out the door. 

Yeah, we need a basketball court, we already have a couple of tall big brothers and lots of people who love basketball.