Moose drives the lane
For the last couple of weeks, the termination dust on the mountains surrounding Anchorage had been creeping lower and lower. It was only a matter of days before it would snow in the city itself, but today the sun was shining. It was deceptively cold out, as if the summer and the winter were battling for the supremacy of noon, but I thought it was the perfect time to purchase a basketball.
I figured that demand for summer sports equipment should be at an all-time low, and if I bought the ball now, I was only committing myself to play two or three times. A short-term commitment, relatively cheap – I went out and bought the basketball. I don’t know if I scored the deal I expected, but it was nice to have an excuse to go outside on the cool fall day.
I stepped onto the basketball court across from my house. Dressed in my baggy shorts, mid-top basketball shoes with white sports socks, my Mickey Mouse sweatshirt from Disneyland, and my prescription sports goggles, I was ready to tear up the court with my mad skills. No one else was around.
I began shooting the ball. Starting at the three point line and chasing the ball down. Shooting from wherever I was able to corral the ball seemed like a good way to practice my shot, and it was a good way to work up a sweat. Three-point line, top of the key, at the elbow, from the free-throw line, in the lane, the ball went in. It was back out to the three point line.
I was so engrossed in what I was doing, I didn’t see the moose stroll onto the court until he was under the basket and the ball had already left my hands.
He grabbed it and passed it back out to me. Then with a motion he let me know that he’d like in the game. I tossed the ball back to him, and he took a couple of practice shots. He then moved out to the three point line above the key and bounced the ball to me.
I passed it back to him. The ball was in and the game was on. I was giving up a considerable weight and height advantage, but I did have thumbs and fingers. My footing on the pavement also seemed a little bit surer.
He pounded the ball onto the ground and drove past me like I was standing still. How could I not have been ready? He missed the lay-up, and I grabbed the rebound. Dribbling out to the three point line, I had hoped to take advantage of the moose being out of position. He had recovered quickly and was now between me and the basket. I probed right, probed left, dribbled between my legs and went right. I got to the elbow where I let the shot fly. It went in. That’s my spot.
I got the ball again. As I dribbled toward the hoop, the moose poked it away. I was back on defense. The moose juked left and right, trying to shake me like a pack of wolves. I didn’t fall for any of his feints, so he put his head down and ran me over. There I was flat on my back watching the moose go over me and to the basket. Lay-up.
I decided to let the foul go. I wasn’t bleeding and still had all of my faculties, so the game continued.
We went at each other and were pretty evenly matched. Once I took it to the rack, and the moose blocked it with his rack. I was unaware of any rules that don’t allow a player to block the ball with his head, so the play stood.
It was game point in the moose’s favor. He snorted at the top of the key and kicked his free foreleg out to clear me from my spot. I held my ground pretty well, so he changed tactics and began to back me down. I wasn’t able to keep him off the block, but I did my best to let him know I was trying. He bumped into me once, twice and then came the spin move. He went around me and dunked the ball. Game over. I shook his hoof, and he wandered back into the trees.
I gotta work on my game.
I figured that demand for summer sports equipment should be at an all-time low, and if I bought the ball now, I was only committing myself to play two or three times. A short-term commitment, relatively cheap – I went out and bought the basketball. I don’t know if I scored the deal I expected, but it was nice to have an excuse to go outside on the cool fall day.
I stepped onto the basketball court across from my house. Dressed in my baggy shorts, mid-top basketball shoes with white sports socks, my Mickey Mouse sweatshirt from Disneyland, and my prescription sports goggles, I was ready to tear up the court with my mad skills. No one else was around.
I began shooting the ball. Starting at the three point line and chasing the ball down. Shooting from wherever I was able to corral the ball seemed like a good way to practice my shot, and it was a good way to work up a sweat. Three-point line, top of the key, at the elbow, from the free-throw line, in the lane, the ball went in. It was back out to the three point line.
I was so engrossed in what I was doing, I didn’t see the moose stroll onto the court until he was under the basket and the ball had already left my hands.
He grabbed it and passed it back out to me. Then with a motion he let me know that he’d like in the game. I tossed the ball back to him, and he took a couple of practice shots. He then moved out to the three point line above the key and bounced the ball to me.
I passed it back to him. The ball was in and the game was on. I was giving up a considerable weight and height advantage, but I did have thumbs and fingers. My footing on the pavement also seemed a little bit surer.
He pounded the ball onto the ground and drove past me like I was standing still. How could I not have been ready? He missed the lay-up, and I grabbed the rebound. Dribbling out to the three point line, I had hoped to take advantage of the moose being out of position. He had recovered quickly and was now between me and the basket. I probed right, probed left, dribbled between my legs and went right. I got to the elbow where I let the shot fly. It went in. That’s my spot.
I got the ball again. As I dribbled toward the hoop, the moose poked it away. I was back on defense. The moose juked left and right, trying to shake me like a pack of wolves. I didn’t fall for any of his feints, so he put his head down and ran me over. There I was flat on my back watching the moose go over me and to the basket. Lay-up.
I decided to let the foul go. I wasn’t bleeding and still had all of my faculties, so the game continued.
We went at each other and were pretty evenly matched. Once I took it to the rack, and the moose blocked it with his rack. I was unaware of any rules that don’t allow a player to block the ball with his head, so the play stood.
It was game point in the moose’s favor. He snorted at the top of the key and kicked his free foreleg out to clear me from my spot. I held my ground pretty well, so he changed tactics and began to back me down. I wasn’t able to keep him off the block, but I did my best to let him know I was trying. He bumped into me once, twice and then came the spin move. He went around me and dunked the ball. Game over. I shook his hoof, and he wandered back into the trees.
I gotta work on my game.