Faith

One of my lone travels to Pueyrredon (before team dedications).

This past week I’ve been really questioning my belief in basketball. Or rather, my faith toward this sport that has changed my life in so many ways. From the beginning, I threw myself into a very slow learning process full of frustrations and challenges. Only recently have been able to order my priorities and realize that basketball is not at that top. That doesn’t make it less important, but less relevant in some ways. However, I maintain the belief that silence is just as important as the sound in music.

Despite all my struggles,the fact that it hasn’t been easy has brought me and basketball closer together. Like any intimate relationship, the deeper you get, the stickier and more interesting things get.

Even if I feel lost, I will continue going to practise. Even if I’m feeling particularly discouraged, I will put on my shorts and sports bra and get my butt out of the house and on a bus. I will focus during practise and just do my best. This sport is my religion, even if I don’t practise it everyday.

Twenty-one and American

This post is dedicated to my Writers’ Group at Cafe Pugliese for helping me believe in my own writing. As Michelle put it so well, I need to eat a “big apple of confidence.” Thank you all!

Puey court, wed night @ 11ish

I remember when I was working with a trainer in university, doing speed drills and learning the foundation basics of basketball that I began to get the scope of the special vocabulary that comes with the sport.

One day, Patrick (my trainer) said to me “Okay, so you’re going to pitch the ball over here and shoot.” I wasn’t quite sure what ‘pitch’ meant, so I took a guess and catapulted the ball to the other end of the court. The look on my trainer’s face was priceless; I had no idea pitch meant to lightly toss the ball a meter or so in front of you, with a spin on it, to simulate a pass. It took me awhile to become familiar with all the terms of basketball, and now that I’m playing in a Spanish-speaking country, there is a whole new set of words (including cursing expressions).

Focus

On Friday, I went to Pueyrreddon court: 24 hours access, decent lighting, and some good quality pick-up basketball at night. The landscape designer was obviously not a ball player (nor know anything about basketball) since surrounding the court there is a one meter wide border of medium sized gravel. Any baller understands that injury might follow a fast drive or any attempt to save an outgoing ball. Puey is my second favourite court in the city.

I encountered a new group of guys that night, outside the usual Argentine bunch: the Venezuelans. I find it funny how most ballers function in packs so, when one group stops going to their usual spot, a new pack comes along. But I’m grateful for this: rotation of people helps me stay on top of my game and also breaks up the boredom of seeing the same moves repeated by the same players.