Basketball Dadiaries: Week 1

Me: How old do you think those guys are?

Friend: I don’t know? Probably in their twenties?

Me: Damn, I feel old.

This was my friend and I –sitting in a pool of our collective sweat.

No, we didn’t run a marathon, nor did we complete a gruelling obstacle course.

We were simply taking a break from playing pick up basketball for 10-15 minutes tops.

As I looked onto the court, I could see an image of my past self staring back at me.

This was the 20 something year old version me, looking and ridiculing the two 30 something year old guys thinking, “Damn, I’d hate to be old and out of shape like those two over there.”

A few weeks earlier, my friend had convinced me to sign up for a coed basketball rec-league with him, and to my hesitation I convinced myself it would be fun.

I thought, “You know what, this would be good for me. I haven’t played ball in five years, it would be neat to start playing again.”

And so, the moment the scorekeeper/ref/organize tossed the ball for tipoff, my enthusiasm and adrenaline kicked into high gear and things were underway.

There I was driving, dribbling, shooting, crashing the boards, D-ing up on the opponents — I felt ALIVE!

Up until the three minute mark of course, where all systems on the Ingus-Enterprise started failing.


This was expected though. The most exercise I’ve had recently was carrying my daughter up the flight of stairs while balancing her bottle in a cup. While my daughter is considered heavier for her age, that is far from aerobic exercise.

Face it, the excuse of being out of shape because I’m a dad doesn’t really hold up.

I mean, I’ve only been a dad for two years, that doesn’t explain the other years of non-activity.

The fact is, I haven’t kept up my end of things physically.

For someone who loves the sport of basketball this much, it’s a shame that I never kept with it on a personal and athletic level.

What’s that Charlie? You’re calling for #Raps in 6?

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Back when I was younger, whatever skill I lacked, I made up for in hustle. But now, with my inability to hustle due to my lack of endurance, there’s really not much I can do on the court.

Basically I was pretty useless out there.

The game ended with our team winning, but not in the manner that was a cause for celebration. You see, because we were short on members, we had to ask players who played previously to sub for us.

So some of the players that had already played a full 55 minutes was able to play another 55 minutes to help us out.

Talk about getting put in your place.

Normally I try to put in a profound full circle lesson in all of my posts, but not this one.

The lesson is clear here: Get in shape.

Re-reading this post, it sounds as if a 50 year wrote it. But I am not 50 yet, and I am only 32.

Maybe I just need a little time to adjust and I need to set some goals to get better.

So hopefully by the end of all of this, I’ll actually be the one staring back at the 20-something version of me laughing instead of sitting and feeling sorry for myself.

Until next week.