Yesterday I wanted to change things up a bit so I went to this outdoor basketball near my home in Dallas. It was deserted. Perfect. I'd get in some quality alone time. Just me, my basketball and the sunset. Twenty minutes into my one-on-one workout with myself, a group of eight teenagers pull up in a red pickup. They get out and head toward the court.
Great, i thought, we can play full court. We just need one more. Soon a skinny kid who lived across the street came over.
I ask them if they wanna go full and after looking me up and down in that "You're a girl, can you really play?" fashion, we finally started the game. They'd already told me how "good" the other team was - the team I "wasn't" on. As if I should reconsider asking them to play. "Cool," I said. "Should be an interesting game then." I smiled inside, thinking, they have no idea. Just no idea what they're about to witness and partake of.
The game starts and I'm low key. After all, I haven't stretched and it iS just a friendly game of pickup with teenagers, right? At least that's how it started.
Eventually I turn it on and they're so mesmerized by my passes, shooting and overall showwomanship that they're watching me instead of getting involved. It was funny. I now know how Michael Jordan felt on those nights when he was dropping 60 points.
Then something funny happened.
I made a call. The gangly left-hander on the other team traveled. I'm not talking about one two many steps, I'm talking about some serious, fo' real walking!
"Traveling," I say and turn to walk the other way.
"We don't play by the rules like that," a 14-year old looking kid said.
"Oh, really?" I responded.
"Really," he shot back with an attitude. (we were winning)
"Hmmm," I say in my most sarcastic tone. "That's interesting. It's that kinda party, huh?"
"Yep."
Listen, all I wanted was a good workout but all of a sudden I was 15 years old again. I started going back and forth with this kid about rules and integrity. He's looking at me like I'm crazy. In between my between the legs dribbles and behind the back passes to boys who were never going to catch them, I'm saying things like, "How do you play basketball without rules?"
He finally shuts up. Probably thinking, "She's gotta be old enough to be my Mom, maybe I should respect my elders."
So I finally shut up. We win but 10 and I head to my car. "Thanks, guys," I say. "That was fun."
"See ya," they all yelled. "Good game...Ms."
Thanks, dude. Now I really feel bad for acting like a teenager. Okay, not really.