The Basketball Diaries – Part Two

In Part One I mentioned that I used to show up early to the basketball court so I could practice with Ty. I also mentioned that the dude was otherworldly good. That may have sounded like hyperbole, but I’m not sure I’m that far off. I heard a story once from one of the guys we used to play with. He said he recently went to a basketball event that included a bunch of former NBA players mixed with various former college players, etc. I guess it was an organized pick-up game or something. I wish I could remember more details about it, but I do remember that my guy said former Piston Rick Mahorn was there. He went on to say, “Dude, you should have seen it. Ty was carving these NBA guys up like they weren’t even there. Outscoring everyone, dishing passes, defense. It was nuts.”
Things with Ty were taking on mythical proportions.
In truth, the story made me feel really good because with all my practice I was starting to be able to score once or twice against Ty.
Once or twice a week, that is 😉
So one day Ty and I weren’t playing 1-on-1, but just warming up, taking shots. He started shooting three-pointers, and I started chasing down the balls and passing them back to him.
Note: It’s an unwritten rule of warming up that if you make a jump shot, whoever tracks down the ball must pass it back so you can shoot again. I don’t know why this rule exists, because everyone’s supposed to be warming up, not just passing the ball back to shooters, but nevertheless.
So I passed him the ball, and he made a three.
I passed it again.
He made it.
I passed it again.
He made it.
I passed it again.
He made it.
This was not a big deal for Ty, because he drained threes like crazy. But after about fifteen in a row I was starting to wonder if he’d ever miss.
Then the bastard took it to mythical proportions.
I passed him the ball, and as fluid as you please he switched hands to shoot lefty, and drained the three.
I passed it again.
Again, he shot left-handed, and drained it.
I passed it again.
He made it.
I passed it again.
He made it.
Now we were starting to get to about ten in a row left-handed, maybe twenty-five in a row all totaled.
I said, “Dude, how the hell do you do this?”
Still shooting all the while, Ty said, “Remember back in high school?”
Swish.
“Yeah.”
Pass back.
“Remember going out on Friday and Saturday nights?”
Swish.
“Yeah, sure.”
Pass back.
“Remember getting some beers, heading to parties, all that?”
Swish.
“Yeah, so?”
Pass back.
“I don’t remember any of that.”
Swish.
“Why not?”
Pass back.
He stopped shooting for one moment, looked at me, and said, “I was shooting threes.”
Swish.

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