(Side note: it's kinda bizarre that I'm like this on the basketball court. In real life, I'm a huuuuge peacemaker. With some of my friends having bigger mouths than I do, and knowing my personal inability to take a punch without crying, I've talked us out of more fights than I can count. I've broken up more fights than the Jersey Shore camera crew. So the fact that I'm such a dick on the court eludes me.)
Over the last few years, I've mellowed considerably. Just to be clear, we're talking player-player interactions here, not player-ref. Though I have improved, these city league refs drive me to the occasional technical foul...although anybody on my team will tell you I get a raw deal, compared to what other, bigger, scarier players do that goes unpunished...I'm getting off-topic here.
Partly because I'm getting older and, one would hope, more mature; and partly because I'm nowhere near my old skill level, and thus can't back up my talk with my play as well anymore, I'm pretty quiet on the court. Nowadays, a player on another team has got to be a pretty big dickhead for me to say anything to him.
So last Sunday night, I'm playing pickup ball in a church near my house (maybe another reason I've mellowed a bit, all our pickup ball in Lawrence takes place in various Houses of the Lord) and right away, me and this guy are having issues. We start out the night on the same team, and he's the typical 45-year-old guy trying to play point guard, directing traffic, and playing coach on the floor. He threw a pass five feet over my head, then gave me a look for not catching it. I hit my first five shots, scored over half our team's points, got us to within game point, then missed a game-winning three-pointer and he admonished me for not "keeping the ball moving."
Later in the night, we found ourselves guarding each other, and soon we were banging down in the low post and getting after each other pretty hard (NO HOMO.) Things got a little chippy, he's chirping a little bit, and I kept quiet as long as possible. Finally one play, I'm posting him up, he goes right through me to deflect a pass, I call a foul, he starts telling me I made a bad call, and I give him a big eye roll and a "Yeah, whatever you say, dude. That was awesome defense, you totally know what you're talking about." Just treating him like any other middle-aged man off the street, playing YMCA ball with the other hackers.
And it went on from there. Really not a big deal in the grand scheme of things; it's not like we were throwing punches, or even raising our voices or anything. Two reasons why it was noteworthy:
First, towards the end of the night, he tried to make amends. As a new game was about to start, and we found ourselves guarding each other again, he gave me a little friend punch on the shoulder and jokingly said, "Ahhh man, I have to guard this guy again? This is terrible, he's been torching me all night." Now. 95% of the time, if a guy and me have been having issues during pickup ball, a line like this is all it takes to squash the beef. I don't want to make enemies, I can leave it on the court. One joke is enough for me to know we're cool. For whatever reason, that night I made the conscious decision in my head to say "Nah, fuck this guy, I'm not buying this shit." I stared straight ahead, didn't acknowledge the dap, and completely ignored the comment. Really weird behavior on my part, and I still don't know why I did it.
Second, I got an email this morning from another guy who was playing ball that night, just telling me it was good to see me since I hadn't played in a few months, and at the end of it he casually mentioned "You know who that guy was that you were bumping with, right?"
Um, no, not really. Should I?
Kevin Pritchard. As in, former starting guard for the 1988 National Champion Kansas Jayhawks Kevin Pritchard. As in, former 2nd round NBA draft pick, six-year NBA veteran Kevin Pritchard. As in, former Portland Trail Blazers General Manager Kevin Pritchard. As in, GUY WHOSE ASS I SHOULD HAVE BEEN KISSING THE ENTIRE TIME I'M GUARDING HIM BECAUSE WHO KNOWS WHAT KIND OF CONNECTIONS I COULD BE MAKING OR WHAT KIND OF TICKETS I COULD BE GETTING IF, INSTEAD OF BEING A LITTLE BITCH, I JUST TALK BASKETBALL AND WOW HIM WITH MY PERSONALITY AND BASKETBALL I.Q. KEVIN PRITCHARD.
Kevin Pritchard.
FML.
And then, the little shithead goes, "That was awesome defense. You totally know what you're talking about." Are you kidding me? Like I don't know what good defense is? Like I didn't help revolutionize advanced defensive metrics? Like I haven't been watching game tape since he was pooping in his diapers? For shit's sake, I'm watching NBA players scrimmage right now. Who the hell does this kid with the headband think he's talking to?"
