nap time's over

the higher you fly the further you fall

i haven't written anything here for a very long time. something neil recently wrote inspired me to put down some things of which i was reminded. he told a couple of stories concerning end of the game free throws and how every once in a while it all comes down to you - it is particularly timely considering the failure of the memphis tigers last night.

jack king once wrote :"Few players recall big pots they have won, strange as it seems, but every player can remember with remarkable accuracy the outstanding tough beats of his career." here are a couple of mine:

when i was a senior in high school, i was the free safety on our football team. coming into our final game of the season, i thought i was a pretty good player. nothing special, mind you, but pretty good. i had 5 or 6 interceptions, 3 or 4 touchdowns and had even hit a guy from lockhart so hard that he had to be driven off in an ambulance. at a 10 year high school reunion, that was the play most of the guys remembered from that season.

we were a good team, but we played in a tough district. our final game was against new braunfels. in new braunfels. they were by far our biggest rival. as such, the bottom of our urinals in the field house were lined with stickers of unicorns to remind us of their place in our hearts. in those days, new braunfels surely had our number, as they won most of the varsity games in the 80's.

they had a kid on their team who was an ridiculous athlete. i think his name was leon wood. as a senior, he was first team all-state as a receiver and a free safety, as a basketball player, and as an outfielder. he went to the state track meet in the long jump and the 200. i wanted to prove myself against him. in addition, we needed to beat them to get into the playoffs.

one of their favorite gimmick plays was a delayed halfback pitch/pass. in practice that week we went over and over the variations of the play and situations in which they were most likely to use it. just before the end of the half they had driven to our 30 or 35. the down, distance and clock seemed just right for their play. in our huddle, i made sure to remind everyone what we had practiced and assured them that this was the play they were calling right now. "don't fall for their stupid crap" is - i think- exactly what i told our team. we broke huddle and i took my place in "center field" just waiting for the inevitable interception i was about to make. they snapped the ball as i drifted back and to the left where the ball was going to be thrown. then my synapses stopped firing in time. rather than a short delay, the quarterback immediately pitched to his halfback swinging wide. for 3/4ths of a second, i decided it was a regular sweep, and i started running to the line of scrimmage to crush this guy. in that short split-second of time; i stopped back-peddaling, started running forward and realized that i was wrong. it's amazing how fast the mind and body can work. just as i came to my senses, here comes leon. he was fast and was already full stride. i quickly hit full speed, and was still close enough to him to make a play. i knew where he was and i could see in his eyes that the ball was on its way, so i looked back. to my relief, i was still in it. i leapt as high as i could and tipped the ball out of his path. as i fell to the earth, i thought about how glad i was that i made up for my own stupidity. the problem was that because i lost that half second, i didn't get more than one or two fingers on the ball. you'll never guess who ended up getting 10 fingers on the ball as he dove into the end zone. i was so mad at myself that it was all i could do not to break down crying as we ran into the field house for the half. we lost 24 to 14, finished third, and missed the playoffs.

one of the other tough beats of my life was in a church basketball league. in the early nineties, the league in south austin was tough, not just for a church league, but good on its own merits.

my team was really good and we hadn't lost a game that season. the team that was our biggest competition for the tournament title (we already had won the season championship) was barton creek. i remember todd mccullough and brent allison on that team. they are still friends today. they also had some really tall guy (6'6") and a little short dude who might have been the best shooter in the league. as i usually do, i had created reasons to really dislike their best player and make it a personal challenge to send him home with his chin on his chest.

in the championship game the lead went back and forth for most of the game. with about 10 seconds left, we were down by 1 and called time out. as the youngest guy on the court, i often deferred to the designs of the older, more experienced guys. it was decided that i would take the last shot. i couldn't have been happier because it meant that i was going to be the one to stick it to this guy from barton creek. we ran our play and with 2 second left, i got fouled in the act. they called time out to ice me, but eventually it was time to step to the line. i have to admit i was fairly nervous getting the ball from the ref. i took a good breath and sank my free throw. no rim. now that the pressure of losing the game was off i had no question of hitting the second one, too. as soon as the ball dropped, barton creek called time out to decide what to do. i accepted everyone's back-slaps for having given us the lead and then a familiar thing happened in our huddle. i proceeded to tell everyone that they didn't have time to do anything other than throw up some half-court prayer, so all we had to do was stay out of the way and not foul. "whatever you do - do not foul," was what i said as we take the court. i'm guarding little guy as he receives the inbound pass. he gets a couple of dribbles to the half court line and jacks up his prayer. it was answered. not in the regular way though - i was called for a foul on the three point attempt. did i even touch him? no. was i closely guarding him? sure. was it stupid to be that close under the circumstances? absolutely. what i really couldn't believe was that the referee would make such a call to decide a game. maybe he was getting back at tim for telling him that tim had forgotten more about basketball than this ref would ever know. after i saw the call, i didn't break stride as i kept on walking out of the gym and then the building. i sat down on some shrubbery while dad tried to console me. no way he could have succeeded, but he sure tried. at least i didn't have to watch this guy make his free throws.

amazing how clearly those scenes and thoughts are saved in my mind.