The Journal

Love and Basketball

Reid is 6’4. I am 5’10. We are both tall people. We’re the ones who are asked to get that can of diced tomatoes way up there on the top shelf in the pantry. We’ve always liked being tall.

However, neither of us play basketball. But wait! you say. Don’t tall people and basketball go together like professional athletes and steroids? Okay, I’m totally overgeneralizing here, but it’s the first sports-related comparison that came to mind. Usually if you have one, you have the other, right? 😉

I can’t count how many times I’ve been asked if I played basketball in high school. Whenever I tell the inquirers that I’ve never even learned, they respond with a disappointed, “Oh, that’s a shame. You have such great height for it.” I think it’s funny that in our country, tallness is automatically associated with basketball. It’s like the assumption that all people from New Jersey have an accent and say “Joisey.” FYI, no one from NJ says “Joisey.” Only those who think they know a Jersey accent say that.

ANYWAY, coming back from that tangent, I don’t play basketball. And I never have. Growing up, I was home schooled, and back then, they didn’t have home school sport teams like they do now. Home-schoolers have definitely become much more organized. The only time I was ever around a basketball was in church. Well, in the gym at church.  The older kids would get together after the weeknight youth group and play. They would invite me, but I would quickly become panic-y and pretend there was an urgent matter of utmost importance that needed my attention and bolt. Everyone was so much better than I was, I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. It didn’t take a lot to be better than I was, though. I knew nothing. I thought “dribbling” the ball meant that you were drooling all over it. Gross. So I never played. I’d always look on from the sidelines, wishing that I had the confidence to join in, but chickening out because I had no idea how to play and the players on the court had played for AT LEAST six months. I mean, really. How could I compete with that?

I’m now 26, and I’ve still never played basketball. But I’ve come to realize  that I can’t beat myself up for not being good at something I’ve never tried or probably won’t ever be good at. So I can’t rock the ball on the court. So I’ll probably never be an expert at making my own cheese. So I might not be the best at math. Who cares? I am rocking the things I can do well and that I love to do. Life is not about comparing yourself to the basketball players on the court who have played their entire lives. Life is about figuring out what you love and then rocking that.

If you love flexing your muscles, rock that.

If you love holding hands, rock that.

If you love being goofy, rock that.

Hope you have a rockin’ day!

  1. Bob says:

    I think I remember you playing with us at least once :0)

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