I love basketball and have loved it for a long time. Although never particularly gifted athletically, I played in high school, I played senior men’s, and I played a lot of pick-up. I wish I still could play but my two titanium knees dictate otherwise.
When we lived in Alberta, not only did I coach Grade 7 boys for several years, I (and eventually my wife, Michele, too) watched every level, both live and on TV. We watched the Vikings play at the local University of Alberta Augustana Campus; we watched the University of Alberta Bears and Pandas play in Edmonton; and we watched the minor-pro Edmonton Stingers play, too.
On TV, there was the NBA and US college ball, too. Then, there were the excursions: in 2014, my daughter, Jill, drove one weekend to Montana to watch Montana State play on a Thursday and the University of Montana – a further three hours away – on the following Saturday.
Next year, she and I travelled to see the Final Four in Indianapolis in 2015 (we’re big Wisconsin fans and they were in it that season). The year after that, it was the Raptors in Chicago on a Friday night and the Wisconsin Badgers in Madison on Sunday.
Then there was the week-long trip Michele and I took to Baton Rouge, LA so I could spend time with some wonderful coaches who literally wrote the book on a system that I thought my Grade 7 boys would really enjoy playing (spoiler alert: man, did they ever).
There’s a lot more besides, but you get the idea. Somewhere, we got a sign to hang up in the house that said, “We now interrupt this marriage for basketball season.” As my wife always said, “The sign never actually comes down.”
However, basketball has changed over the years from the time I played and I’m not sure for the better. What has changed? See next week’s “Friday pot pourri” for my thoughts on that…