When your co-worker Ken Silva invites you to play on his team in the K&J Three-on-Three Basketball Tournament, forget that you’re no longer a teenager.
Steer your mind from your wobbly, sprain-prone ankles. Ignore your weak knees and your aching back.
Believe in yourself against all odds. Say yes.
When your friends later question your judgement, chuckle patronisingly. Say, “It’s not a big thing: I played varsity basketball for my high school, you know.”
Don’t mention that your team lost 22 out of 24 games during your senior year, or that you averaged 2.3 points per game.
Don’t reveal how many times you missed a wide-open layup, causing your coach to pull you out of the game, shaking his head sadly.
Don’t bring up the “most improved” award that was the crowning shame of your athletic career.
Instead, just act confident.
When Ken says your team needs a fourth player, try desperately to get in touch with Kleon Penn, the 6 foot 11 Virgin Islander who has trained with the Puerto Rico national team.
When you can’t find him, tell yourself it’s no a big deal. Convince yourself that since you played against Mr. Penn once at the Belle Vue gym, you must be nearly as good as he is. Block out the memory of how many times he dunked on you that day.
Getting ready
On the morning of the tournament, ignore the vicious back cramp that developed during the night while you dreamed of a glorious victory on the court.
Shut out the superstitious voice telling you that the pain is a warning from a Higher Power. If you need convincing, make a joke of it: Say, “Thanks for the warning, Higher Power! You were always a good buddy!” Laugh uproariously.
To allay the back pain, do some yoga stretches for a couple of hours. Don’t remind yourself that such exercises were not necessary back in high school.
Throw your shoes in a gym bag and head to the Multi-purpose Sports Complex. Register and collect your T-shirt.
Read the rules, but try not to dwell on the clause stating that a team can be disqualified for a “tortuous defeat.”
Agree to name your team “Four Guys,” because that’s how many players are supposed to be on it to allow for one substitution.
Sit around for a while, until it becomes clear that your game won’t start until late afternoon.
Go home. Do more yoga. Watch basketball on the Internet to get pumped up. Resist the urge to search “horrible basketball injuries” on YouTube.
In the early afternoon, go to your book club meeting. Eat cheese and drink wine, then stroll over to the Sports Complex.
Game time
Watch other players dunking as they warm up. Attempt to slip out before Ken sees you.
When you get caught, make a joke of it. Say, “Is this all the competition there is? I’m going home!”
Stay and proceed to Plan B: faking an injury, and subbing yourself out to let your three teammates finish the game without you.
When game time comes and your fourth teammate is nowhere to be seen, hide your panic. Take the court as casually as possible.
When Ken points out the player you’re supposed to guard, use your terror to help you appear nonchalant.
Say, “Yep. No problem. I got him.”
Pretend not to notice that your opponent outweighs you by 50 pounds. Sidle up to him during warm-ups and mutter, “You may be big, pal, but you’d better watch out, because I’ve got a Higher Power on my side.”
When he says, “Excuse me?” pretend that you were only coughing.
When the game starts, get low and drive your shoulder into your opponent’s back. When you bounce off him with no apparent effect, do it again. When he turns around and scores over your head, fall down and flail on the ground.
Ask the referee, “Are you going to allow that? Are you blind?”
Offence
In the unlikely event that you manage to catch the ball yourself, throw it to one of your teammates like a hot potato. Yell, “Shoot! Shoot! Shoot!”
Whenever they score, cheer loudly. Whenever they miss, shake your head and gesture wildly to the scoreboard so that they will see how far your team has fallen behind.
Carry on in this manner until your team loses 15-2, thanks mostly to the points scored by the player you were supposed to be guarding.
Blame the loss on external factors, such as the slippery floor, the slightly bent rim, and the wine and cheese you consumed before the game.
In your consolation game the next day, employ similar tactics. Miss all your own shots, but take full credit when your teammates score repeatedly, making it a close game even though you lose in the end.
Winning
Afterwards, leave the Sports Complex. Put on your free T-shirt and limp to the nearest bar.
Order a beer and tell everyone who will listen that you won the tournament.
Order another beer and tell yourself the same thing.
Order a third beer and start to believe it.
Order a fourth beer and loudly declare yourself the tournament’s most valuable player.
Congratulations! You’ve earned it.
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