Kips Bay Basketball

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You want to play pro ball . . .

You got older, you grew, and you watched the older kids play ball in the schoolyard. You ran to the basketball court instead of playing dodge ball with your class Your teacher had to drag you back. They wouldn't let you play, but you would chase the ball every time it went out of bounds. You would put up a shot every time you could and the kids would laugh at every air ball.

You collect basketball cards and trade baseball cards. You work on your jump shot and your left hand. You know who "Pearl" is, "Goat", "Doc", Carol Blazejowski, Lynette Woodard, Michael's birthday. You know . . .

Now you play intramural, club ball, CYO, YBOA, City Wide, Parks & Recreation, AAU, and all the pick up games you can. And you show your friends your new moves, your range. You work hard for more playing time and you don't tell mom when you have a sore throat because she wouldn't let you go to practice. You watch every game you can and in the fall you dream about the rookies that will enter the league. You hope to be like Kobe. You used to dream of being Michael.

They called you "Baby J" for a while. You copied his every move. You wanted to be like Mike until he quit. You didn't understand. Everything you wanted, he had walked away from, so you picked a new hero and a new number because it wasn't just Mike, it was the game. You and he were closer when he came back because you knew he knew. It is the game. You want to play ball.

But even that's not enough. You work on your cross, without the carry, and your drop step. You practice foul shots until your arm hurts and your jump shot until it's very wet. Then you shoot with your left hand. You don't want to play ball. You want to play pro ball.

Chuck