Do you know, or have ever known, someone who when watching a sporting event, has a "I could do that better" kind of attitude? Maybe this person just comes across as feeling that way, or maybe goes so far as to say it out loud.
The truth of it is, of course, that most of us who aren't professional athletes aren't anywhere close to being good enough to play our chosen sport as a career. I've known a few who were good enough but didn't quite make it. One was a quarterback who went to training camp with two different teams. He was one of the first players cut with the first team, but was having a really good camp with the second one when he blew his knee out.
He had a degree in sports management and wound up being the substitute gym teacher for the male students my senior year in high school. One day, we were warming up for class and he just stood there watching me.
He watched me throw the ball several times and then shook his head in disappointment. He said that it was just too bad that I was so short at 5'9". He said I had all the tools a QB needs. To this day, I can still drop back, roll out to either side, and throw a deep ball with accuracy. My mechanics, he said, were nearly perfect. and still are; my throwing motion results in a perfect spiral almost every time.
There's just no way I could ever play in college, let alone the N.F.L., at my height. But it's nice to know that that's the only thing that stopped me from being able to. I did play two years of football as a young man; studying game film and learning game plans were both things I was quite good at.
I had some other good things happen in that senior year of high school in gym class. I hustled all the way from my place at short stop to make a play on a runner at first base. He was called safe but to this day, I really do believe I got the tag on him before his hand touched the plate. Even with his being called safe, I felt good for having shown the hustle that I had.
I also got to play a game at catcher in gym class that year. My team won by a final score of 3-2 and the way I called the pitches was a big part of that. Again, just so nice to do such a good job, even at a high school level of play.
On the basketball court, I made a sweet pass to my friend Mark, who caught the ball and drilled the winning shot. That too, came in my senior year.
Much more recently, I was on the court here at the Y.M.C.A. on a winter afternoon. This was three years ago, when I was forty-eight. A young man who exhibited a rather unpleasant style of behavior walked up to me and said "Get off the court, old man.".
This, I took as a challenge. I had, at that time, a cool looking red-white-and-blue ball. I calmly dribbled it out to the perimeter, stopped and turned around. I checked twice to make sure I was outside of the three-point line. I measured the shot once, and then a second time.
As I let the ball go, one thought went through my mind. Which was "If you're ever going to make a three point shot, which you never have, now is the time.".
I'm proud to say that the shot was nothing but net; a perfect shot that sent the young man off the court in silence.
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