I’ll be attempting to play basketball in an organized fashion this evening at 8:30pm.  Once a baller, it’s been many years (OK a decade +) since I’ve participated in anything more than a park pickup game.  Last three pointer I hit was over my daughter on a Tiny Tikes’ plastic hoop.  Feeling far too old for this but actually am too young.  The league is supposed to be for those over forty, I got an exemption.  I have mixed emotions about this exemption and our team name, “Matrix.”  That said, it will be good to see some friendlies, play a game and bang a bit.

It’s a slow break format, meaning you can’t advance the ball past half court until the other team crosses (unless it’s the last three minutes of a half at which time fast breaking is legal and encouraged so long as you keep your wind).  Think a bookclub where you read just the last chapter and only pay attention to half of what people say while eating appetizers that were given little thought.

If you haven’t already, start worrying about me. I’m a little nervous.  There’s rust here, I doubt my defense, and have a brain chalked full.   Don’t be too concerned though because just when you relax I’ll triple-threat up –>    jab step & deliver a skip pass to my mate low post.  I might just jump-stop to the block &  flip-shot a lupe-de-loosh off glass with seconds to spare. Matrix in your eye.