When I was younger, I couldn’t get enough pickup basketball. Playing against guys you knew, your classmates, peers, was exciting.
The rules were simple. First to 15 wins. Make it, take it. Winners kept the court. Fun times.
But things got dead serious when the “old men” showed up. Dudes in their late 20s. Some even more ancient, in their 30s. They didn’t laugh or find as much fun in the game as we did. They were grayer, paunchier, slower.
They were like a bunch of Larry Birds. They couldn’t jump an inch off the ground. Tenacious on defense. Deliberate on offense. They always found the open man.
And dammit to hell, Old Man Ball nearly always won.
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