I Smiled

My tremendous sister-in-law Lynn sent me a few photos of Sam and Johnny playing a one-on-one down in North Carolina.

As soon as I saw the photos my mind did that grief-memory thing and I flashed back to my childhood.

It was usually John and Jeff against me and Jim.

The match-up was rough because Jeff was the best player out of the four of us and John played defense by punching you in the solar plexus early so that you'd wonder if he was going to do it every other time that you went up for a shot.

I'm not kidding.

He'd hit you in the stomach, taking your wind from you, and as you rolled around on the court like Nancy Kerrigan yelling "Why? Why? Why?" He'd stand over you and say, "You'll think about it next time."

And despite the fact that he wouldn't do it again for the rest of the game, you'd spend all afternoon hurrying your shots before the little maniac got near you.

But both Jim and I could shoot from outside.

So the games were usually intense battles and we won our fair share.

When all four of us weren't around there was always the one-on-one game just like the one Sam and Johnny were engaged in:

We'd call our own fouls.

We'd battle for hours.

Early on I had a real advantage on Jeff who was much younger, but it didn't last long. I recall the very first time that he beat me straight up.

We were out in California in 1987. I was 23 years old. Jeff was 17.

He was taller than me already and despite the fact that he was rail thin, he was strong, and his elbows were like weapons. He'd drive on me and use his elbows to get inside and score.

When he won...21-18...he was thrilled and he was talking plenty.

I was complaining that the ball wasn't properly inflated, or that I had a sore back, or some other such nonsense...

...but I knew.

I would never beat him again.

And I didn't.

Once he got over the hump, he never looked back.

I smiled when I saw the photos.

My boy and his boy battling it out.

Sam says that he won.

I'm sure that when I ask Johnny he'll spin a different yarn.

But winning and losing isn't the important part.

It never was.

Even when I was taking a shot to the center of my chest;

Even when I was rolling on the court in pain;

Even when I lost a game;

I knew.

It was all about the love.

Those games run around my mind in an endless loop of happiness.

Of course I smiled.