The Joy of Basketball

October 8, 2007

So UAAP Season 70 is finally over. Good show, Blue Eagles. Congrats, La Salle. Too bad, UE. To the rest, there's always next year.

This post really isn't about the recently concluded UAAP season, but more of an ordinary basketball post by a girl who loves to play the game. I figured that it's about time I wrote about my experiences as a female ball player and I'm quite certain that some of the events that I would describe here are something that you can relate to.

Early Years

Growing up in the Philippines, where every town plaza has a basketball court, you just know that I'd be exposed to the sport a lot. Members of my family are true San Miguel fans (from the Philippine Basketball Association (PBA)), especially my Dad, who worshipped both the basketball franchise and the beer. We'd sit on the floor of our parents' room and watch basketball games on the telly with them. I admit I didn't know what the hell happened on those games and I never really understood the rules except for "shoot the ball and earn points". I was about 5 or 6 years old at the time.

Outside our house, we had a wooden board and a basketball ring installed in one of our huge tamarind trees. My brothers would often play there a couple of hours a day everyday and I could only watch, since my tiny arms could barely throw the ball high enough to go over my brothers' heads.

I watched them play for years, especially Kuya Edward (the eldest), who has this habit of nailing one shot after the other perfectly. I remember one time when I challenged him to shoot the ball from a certain distance and he nailed it — not once, but twice in a row. I still remember the triumphant look on his face when turned to me and said, "Accuracy."

Soon enough I was able to shoot the ball from just inside the free-throw range. I used two arms because I still found the ball quite heavy. I assisted the throw with a jump, because the ball just won't fly high enough if I just stand there and shoot. I usually missed and it bothered me — a lot. I'd shoot from the same spot and I wouldn't quit unless I was able to put the ball through the hoop… twice in a row.

Accuracy.

High School

When I was a freshman, I couldn't even participate in the intramurals because I couldn't afford the basketball uniform and my Mom wouldn't shell out a cent for it. I remember the bitter taste of jealousy as I watched my classmates play, donned in freshman green. I cheered for them then, but I really wished I was part of the team.

Sophomore year was a slight improvement. I still couldn't afford a jersey (my Mom is terribly stubborn and thrifty when it comes to school expenses, especially extra-curricular ones) and I wasn't part of the regular line-up until the final minutes of the very last game with our rivals, the Juniors.

We were short one player and I really, really wanted to play. Unless I wore a jersey, I wasn't allowed to. I could borrow Tricia's easily, but I couldn't use her number. Our solution: wear the jersey inside out. Yes! And because it was a small high school, technicalities like that were overlooked. I could finally play! CUISON (Ti's last name) became NOSIUC and the numbers switched places as well.

For the first time I felt the high of playing on court. That day, it wasn't an ordinary basketball game, it was a competition. I was part of a team and we were out there to win. Everybody was cheering, yelling, and chanting. My heart was racing and I was sweating like there's no tomorrow. Total chaos! And then the whistle blew. Game on. Not even five minutes in and I scored two shots back-to-back. The Juniors never even saw it coming.

I couldn't even remember if we won that game. The Juniors probably did. But it didn't matter. I was able to play and that was all I cared about.

Junior year was significantly better. I made it a point to save up for a jersey, despite my teeny allowance. Jersey #10 was born; and so it lives until this very day. We won the championship that year, too. Yeah, we beat the Seniors… Booyah!

The first game with the Sophomores was the first time I played a full game. It was awesome, even if I stood and waited on court for most of the time. That became my role every game: Wait by the opponent's court until somebody gives me the ball… then shoot. You see, I had these terrible side stitches whenever I exerted myself through running. I guess I haven't learned proper breathing at the time and I didn't drink often enough. I scored points, yes, but I couldn't stay in the game for long periods of time. I had to be subbed quite often and I didn't like it.

It was the same dance come Senior year. Although the side stitch issue wasn't too much of a problem anymore, I still found myself not able to stay in the game long enough.

Endurance: That's what I lacked.

Getting picked for varsity was a godsend. Not only was I able to practice ball-handling better, I also got the hang of running. Pretty soon we were going against teams from other schools in the city. It was a big change for me, since I only got used to playing on the school court, which was significantly smaller than the official one. It was an entirely different ball game. You can see the shot clock ticking 3-2-1, and there were bigger, better girls on court. We finished third over-all, which wasn't bad. Actually, it was way better than what we expected. Our consolation to the "loss" was that our team looked the girliest. The players of the other teams looked like boys. Haha. Sourgrapes. What can I say? That's high school.

College

Ateneo registration day, June 2000. My second brother advised me to take PE101 first before any other PE subject. Thank God I listened to him. As soon as I got the mandatory subject over and done with, I had the pick of the litter. And of course, I just had to pick basketball. Surprise, surprise.

Two semesters of playing ball was a whole lot of fun. It wasn't as exciting as high school, but I still enjoyed it. The bulk of it was pretty basic, since most of my classmates were first-time players, or just girls that didn't care as long as they passed the subject. We had daily ball-handling/passing/shooting drills and of course, actual games. I met really good ball players, too. One can even do the spider dribble!

It was all about having fun.

Our teacher made us compete with another basketball class as part of our final grade. And so I was able to be part of two different teams (two different classes for two sems) and won both times against the other classes. The competition wasn't all that, since we're all just playing for fun and, of course, the grade. Some of the girls became quite conscious of themselves when (cute) boys started to flock by the sidelines to watch us play ball. It was quite funny to hear the boys go "Ohhhh!" when I sunk a trey. I also felt a flutter when the coach of the other team told me I was good. Wow. Cute boys and a compliment — how could I ever forget?

Sometimes I wonder if I should have tried out for varsity. I would've been very happy if I even get picked for Team B. 5'2"? Duh. But hey, it would have probably taken over my college life because of all the training involved. In the end, I was happy with my decision. I was content on just playing no-pressure ball.

Post-College

I thought I saw the end of my basketball days back in college. Not quite. For one year, SLF held a girls' basketball tournament. Imagine my delight when I learned that I'd be playing my favorite game once again!

I met really cool girls from other departments and we just had fun with it. Despite our work schedule, we made time to practice. Every Friday after work was game on and a chance to unwind. And whaddaya know, our team won the championship! Whee!

One thing I noticed was that the older women in the teams seemed to be more aggressive. I took fouls a lot (not in the face, thank God) and they were more intense on the court. Some took the game quite seriously. I guess I just got used to the smiling faces at college that I forgot how real, aggressive competition looked like.

In any case, that was the last time I played basketball.

 

I miss it. I really, really miss it. Watching UAAP basketball and cheering for the Blue Eagles gives me a different kind of high, but none that would compare to actually being there and playing the game yourself. When everybody around you is yelling and you couldn't really hear them, none of it makes sense anymore and it's just you and nine other players. Somehow you find a way to not hear the cheers and the jeers, and all you can see and hear are your teammates, and the five the other players on the court. It's a different kind of world and it's my happy place.

One of these days I'll find time to play again. I just hope it's sooner rather than later.

It's not over yet.

One Big Fight! XD