Sunday comp: 2-5
"If only I could turn back time"
-- Turn Back Time, Aqua
Man I did absolutely nothing today. I basically slept in the entire day, writing up the previous entry and bumming around on the internet. Although mentally I was ok for the game, physically I wasn't up to it.
A picked me up at 6 and off we went. I don't know how, but we manage to talk about the most random things. Like tonight we were just talking about flying on planes.
We got to the courts about 15 minutes before the game, and Fat Pat, Mike and Yunk were already there. I did my stretches and then Daniel arrived. It was good to see him and I think he was pretty happy to see us.
We played the Warriors. I didn't know that good point guard Richard was on their team! I saw him shooting around and then when he was still hanging around the court close to tip off I knew he was playing, and joked that I dreaded playing him. I think it's actually become a pretty good rivalry now, because at first he was guarding me man on man and I was doing the same, until he figured out that Daniel was the one to stop, not me.
We got off to a cold start, but managed to slowly crawl back into the game. I missed my first three, but hit my next field goal when I took the ball up and everyone just assumed I'd pass it, leaving the middle wide open for me to just walk in and shoot.
I really didn't play much of the first half, coming off at about 13:00 and going back on with four minutes to play. I sat on the bench and watched as A airballed a three, Mike constantly missing out on boxing out assignments, and Yunk just making rookie mistakes. I realised that it must've been terrifying for him, and that this was a steep learning curve, as he looked like a scared little kitten taking the ball up.
Daniel hit his long range threes which kept us in the game, and Fat Pat looked a little bit more confident.
At halftime we were leading 21-20. I emphasised during halftime that we had to box out. When a shot went up, if you weren't boxing out a player then you weren't doing your job. Sure enough, in the second half I watched as Mike slowly defended a shooter, and turned around only to watch the ball instead of boxing the shooter out.
We trailed by as much as nine, and then started making a slow run to catch up. At one stage, I was tagging along with Richard as he brought the ball up, and he ran behind a forward who was setting a screen. The forward stuck his bum out and I did a bit of acting by flailing my arms, and the referee called a foul. They were in the penalty, but because it was an offensive foul it shouldn't have been two shots. However, the ref was wrong and gave me two shots, and Richard kept arguing. I just silently walked towards the line and made 1/2. I think it was the first time anyone has ever seen any frustrations from me at the line. The missed shot was straight, but bounced on the back rim, front rim, back rim, front rim and looked like it was going to drop in, but just managed to flip out. I punched my left hand in frustration.
In crunch time, we were down 44-39 and I was pressing Richard as they were inbounding. They did a really shit over the head inbound pass, Richard fell down for whatever reason and I grabbed it. I took one dribble towards the basket and saw their big guy coming for the block, and I just floated it off the backboard.
44-41.
They scored a couple more baskets, and then Daniel made a miraculous three which put us down by three again. Again, I was up in Richard's face around the arch of the three point line as they were inbounding. And again they did a shitty inbound pass which went over both our heads, and with the seconds ticking down, I reached out to try to grab it.
I knew what to do - I'd grab it, spin around and shoot the three.
But the ball touched my fingertips and went out of bounds, and full time sounded.
Fail.
That loss really hurt. I knew it was a long shot, but it could've been it. I just sooo wish I could turn back time, because I know we can beat that team.
I don't know why, but as soon as the game finishes A just gets changed and stands around impatiently waiting for me to leave. I and the other guys like to sit around and talk about the game a bit.
In the car, all I could think of was how I could've caught that ball and launched a turn around three. It was so simple. I know if I had gotten my hands on it, my shot would've made the distance, because it was within range.
I just wish I could turn back time.
Which made me think: I guess we all want to turn back time at one stage or another of our lives. And maybe that's why gambling is so addictive - it gives you the chance to undo your mistakes. It doesn't matter how much you lose, you have the chance to make it all back. All one needs is hope.
But in real life, you don't get second chances. Sometimes you don't even get a chance. If you fail, you have to move on, preferably with your head held high. And that's what you have to learn in gambling.
I was also feeling a shortness of breath, as if my asthma was coming on. It just confirmed my feeling before court that I wasn't in good physical condition to play. Yet at the same time, I'm kinda proud that I got through the game with my asthma. I feel like I've been playing so long now that I can play with my eyes closed.
I came home and had a shower. I got that sensation I have had before where my vision goes funny because some parts are blinded out, like a camera flashed into my eyes, which is almost always followed by a headache. I seem to get this after basketball.
I watched a bit of So You Think You Can Dance while eating dinner. One of the guys who won to go into the next round was giving a thank you speech, and he thanked his girlfriend for supporting him throughout the whole journey.
It really made me think: who has ever supported me in my life? I have never, ever, had anyone support me in what I did. My parents don't care about my basketball, and they sure as hell didn't support me during my studies and work. What Asian parents do is not support; it's pushing. There's a difference.
And yet, here I find myself, all alone, having achieved whatever I have achieved. Is that an admirable feat? I mean, could I, or would I, have done more had I had support? Or is 'support' just some imaginary thing for weak people?
-- Turn Back Time, Aqua
Man I did absolutely nothing today. I basically slept in the entire day, writing up the previous entry and bumming around on the internet. Although mentally I was ok for the game, physically I wasn't up to it.
A picked me up at 6 and off we went. I don't know how, but we manage to talk about the most random things. Like tonight we were just talking about flying on planes.
We got to the courts about 15 minutes before the game, and Fat Pat, Mike and Yunk were already there. I did my stretches and then Daniel arrived. It was good to see him and I think he was pretty happy to see us.
We played the Warriors. I didn't know that good point guard Richard was on their team! I saw him shooting around and then when he was still hanging around the court close to tip off I knew he was playing, and joked that I dreaded playing him. I think it's actually become a pretty good rivalry now, because at first he was guarding me man on man and I was doing the same, until he figured out that Daniel was the one to stop, not me.
We got off to a cold start, but managed to slowly crawl back into the game. I missed my first three, but hit my next field goal when I took the ball up and everyone just assumed I'd pass it, leaving the middle wide open for me to just walk in and shoot.
I really didn't play much of the first half, coming off at about 13:00 and going back on with four minutes to play. I sat on the bench and watched as A airballed a three, Mike constantly missing out on boxing out assignments, and Yunk just making rookie mistakes. I realised that it must've been terrifying for him, and that this was a steep learning curve, as he looked like a scared little kitten taking the ball up.
Daniel hit his long range threes which kept us in the game, and Fat Pat looked a little bit more confident.
At halftime we were leading 21-20. I emphasised during halftime that we had to box out. When a shot went up, if you weren't boxing out a player then you weren't doing your job. Sure enough, in the second half I watched as Mike slowly defended a shooter, and turned around only to watch the ball instead of boxing the shooter out.
We trailed by as much as nine, and then started making a slow run to catch up. At one stage, I was tagging along with Richard as he brought the ball up, and he ran behind a forward who was setting a screen. The forward stuck his bum out and I did a bit of acting by flailing my arms, and the referee called a foul. They were in the penalty, but because it was an offensive foul it shouldn't have been two shots. However, the ref was wrong and gave me two shots, and Richard kept arguing. I just silently walked towards the line and made 1/2. I think it was the first time anyone has ever seen any frustrations from me at the line. The missed shot was straight, but bounced on the back rim, front rim, back rim, front rim and looked like it was going to drop in, but just managed to flip out. I punched my left hand in frustration.
In crunch time, we were down 44-39 and I was pressing Richard as they were inbounding. They did a really shit over the head inbound pass, Richard fell down for whatever reason and I grabbed it. I took one dribble towards the basket and saw their big guy coming for the block, and I just floated it off the backboard.
44-41.
They scored a couple more baskets, and then Daniel made a miraculous three which put us down by three again. Again, I was up in Richard's face around the arch of the three point line as they were inbounding. And again they did a shitty inbound pass which went over both our heads, and with the seconds ticking down, I reached out to try to grab it.
I knew what to do - I'd grab it, spin around and shoot the three.
But the ball touched my fingertips and went out of bounds, and full time sounded.
Fail.
That loss really hurt. I knew it was a long shot, but it could've been it. I just sooo wish I could turn back time, because I know we can beat that team.
I don't know why, but as soon as the game finishes A just gets changed and stands around impatiently waiting for me to leave. I and the other guys like to sit around and talk about the game a bit.
In the car, all I could think of was how I could've caught that ball and launched a turn around three. It was so simple. I know if I had gotten my hands on it, my shot would've made the distance, because it was within range.
I just wish I could turn back time.
Which made me think: I guess we all want to turn back time at one stage or another of our lives. And maybe that's why gambling is so addictive - it gives you the chance to undo your mistakes. It doesn't matter how much you lose, you have the chance to make it all back. All one needs is hope.
But in real life, you don't get second chances. Sometimes you don't even get a chance. If you fail, you have to move on, preferably with your head held high. And that's what you have to learn in gambling.
I was also feeling a shortness of breath, as if my asthma was coming on. It just confirmed my feeling before court that I wasn't in good physical condition to play. Yet at the same time, I'm kinda proud that I got through the game with my asthma. I feel like I've been playing so long now that I can play with my eyes closed.
I came home and had a shower. I got that sensation I have had before where my vision goes funny because some parts are blinded out, like a camera flashed into my eyes, which is almost always followed by a headache. I seem to get this after basketball.
I watched a bit of So You Think You Can Dance while eating dinner. One of the guys who won to go into the next round was giving a thank you speech, and he thanked his girlfriend for supporting him throughout the whole journey.
It really made me think: who has ever supported me in my life? I have never, ever, had anyone support me in what I did. My parents don't care about my basketball, and they sure as hell didn't support me during my studies and work. What Asian parents do is not support; it's pushing. There's a difference.
And yet, here I find myself, all alone, having achieved whatever I have achieved. Is that an admirable feat? I mean, could I, or would I, have done more had I had support? Or is 'support' just some imaginary thing for weak people?
posted by toey | 21:44
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