Howdy,
#NaNoWriMo (550) — Day 3
(Unedited, or only slightly)
Continued …
And when his obstacle course of athletic creativity circled back around to an empty half court, he’d shoot.
And shoot, and shoot, and shoot.
That’s what a boy and a ball and a basket could do. All by himself. Shoot baskets.
Jake Jones spent hours hoisting shots with high arc from his low launching point, getting great angle on his shots and a nice, soft, shooter’s touch on the rim. He’d often get balls to drop through the hoop after multiple bounces on the rim. These good rolls also included the famous “toilet bowl.”
He smiled when a shot with english on it would spin around and around and start to look more and more like it’d drop for a score. Sometimes he’d try for it, time after time. The toilet bowl, though, had a bit of its own mystery to it, difficult to replicate successfully on demand.
Often attempts simply rimmed out if aiming for too much rim action. Or, which technically was nice and effective, the ball would drop straight through off the backboard. Yes, the toilet bowl shot had more of a surprise element to it, popping up out of nowhere; in games, throwing of the timing of an aggressive rebounder if it wrapped around and spat out delayed and even on another side.
Taller, older players “flushed” it when they dunked the ball. For the time being, and maybe forever if he didn’t grow considerably, Jake’s flushes on the court would be sinking a soft shot after sending it spinning around the rim a few tantalizing times.
Jones strived to shoot with good form. He watched great shooters; on television, but also on park courts and schoolyard playgrounds. He observed, and he tested and tried. Feeling his elbow in place, his fingers wide, wrist cocked, stretching his release point higher.
Always he tried for a higher release. Jake yearned for that. Wished he’d grow faster. He sought to maximize the reach he had.
On television, he watched the Warriors. Locking in on the sharpshooters — “The Splash Brothers” — Steph Curry and Klay Thompson. Klay could shoot. Catch and shoot. In a flash the ball was gone, with perfect form, and headed for a three-point score. But he was six foot seven.
Jake never dreamed of being that tall. Not even close. Which is why he wasn’t as drawn in on Kevin Durant’s shot. Durant was a tremendous shooter as well, Jake could see that, but he was seven feet tall. Seven feet! KD didn’t need mechanics to shoot over defenders the way JJ would.
No, Jake Jones knew he’d have to score amongst the trees from the undergrowth. Like Wardell Stephen Curry II. He wanted to shoot, to play — dribble, pass, shoot, lead, win — like Curry.
Steph listed at 6’3” but didn’t look like it, certainly not out on an NBA court with the big boys. Jake guessed Curry could even be shorter than published, which he chose to believe regardless.
It gave him hope; and a model.
Jake studied Steph. When he was shooting, he was shooting to shoot like Steph.
No doubt lots of people on the playground were shooting like Steph (but not shooting like him), but Jake’s intention ran deeper than swishes, than seeing the result of a Curry canned 3. Jake saw a lightning quick release and a way to play without being the tallest. Without even looking like a baller.
To be continued …
—Billy
Reading. Writing. Living.
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