Basketball Humiliation (or, glutton for punishment)
I am a half decent shot with a basketball, but have not actually played the game since junior high. At which time I would go to try out for the team, jam a finger or twist an ankle in the first week, and not end up on the court again until the next season.
Timothy loves to play basketball.
In the Philippines, Timothy and I would often take a ball over to the court near the house and shoot some hoops together. He would always beat me in the end, but I could give him a run for his money. Keep it close enough that he would sweat a little before sealing the deal. So when he suggested playing here yesterday afternoon with his roommate and friend Roy, this is what I had in mind...a friendly game of 'HORSE' or something similar. I did not imagine 3-on-3 with the junior NBA.
There are 2 double rows of about 16 courts each inside a fenced off area near the dorm. Each court is packed with guys...not a woman in sight. I ask Timothy why no women play and he shrugs and says that here they 'spend their time looking good'. On some courts there are pick-up matches in progress, on others the guys are just sharing a ball, taking shots. This all looks far more intimidating than I was expecting.
We ask a smallish group of 3 near the entrance if we can join them. I mostly just hang back, keeping out of the way. I know when I am outclassed, and I am SERIOUSLY outclassed. On other courts that I have watched Timothy play on this trip, play has always started with a long period of shooting before any kind of actual game develops. This I can handle, I think. But no, instead they go straight to the game, motioning me over to round out the 6 and off we go.
I do not embarass myself approximately twice in the entire time we play. Mostly I do my best just to avoid stepping on anyone (they move so fast!). Roy is fun to play with - even though I clearly suck (so not a strong enough word for exactly how bad I am compared to these men）, he still passes me the ball and keeps me in play. Mostly Timothy just avoids me whenever possible. The fast little guy on the other team is suprised enough when I get the ball from him (once) that he at least makes a show of keeping his eye on me. And then there's the big guy. The guy who is far and away the best player on the court. The one who, when I have the ball (no matter how close to the net) doesn't just NOT engage, but actually puts his arms down and physically turns his back to me. Like a robot on a power sensor, programmed to shut down each time he sees me.
15 minutes or so in, nowhere near the end of the game, Timothy simply walks off the court. He says he sees some friends on another court. WTF????? He doesn't come back. The guys all mill around for a few minutes looking confused, then reform themselves into the basic shooting I had expected all along. Once I step off the court.
Now don't get me wrong. I know how bad I am. I know what an absolute ass I am making of myself with these guys, skill wise. But I also know that no matter how bad a person is, you still show enough respect that you bring your game. It's not my (lack of) skill that is so utterly humiliating, it's the condescension emanating in waves from the other players.
When the wind picks up (in direct proportion to my anger), a lot of the courts empty out. Timothy drifts from his game to an empty court with just one other guy. He tosses me the ball half-heartedly on my way over to meet him and is shocked when I sink it easily from the free throw line mid stride. The other guy on the court doesn't see him pass to me and says something distinctly unfriendly in Chinese before Timothy tells him that I'm a friend. A few minutes later their game opens up again and they leave me alone with the ball. Fun.
A skinny, shy looking waif of a guy comes over and asks if he can join me. He is a biology major from one of my favorite towns in China. We take turns passing to each other and taking shots, a respectable number of which both of us make. Ocasionally we talk. This is the basketball I had in mind when I came over. Roy is still playing with the first group, fast and furious but fun. Timothy is playing with the second, red-faced and serious.
When Timothy is done playing he comes over to me and barks 'Come, dinner now.' No friendly 'hey, you hungry? ready to go eat?' This is not a language problem, this is an attitude problem. I feel like a dog that he is calling to heel. Walking back to the dorm, he says to my icy silence 'You must be really hungry. You're not smiling.' Uh huh, that must be it.
Timothy loves to play basketball.
In the Philippines, Timothy and I would often take a ball over to the court near the house and shoot some hoops together. He would always beat me in the end, but I could give him a run for his money. Keep it close enough that he would sweat a little before sealing the deal. So when he suggested playing here yesterday afternoon with his roommate and friend Roy, this is what I had in mind...a friendly game of 'HORSE' or something similar. I did not imagine 3-on-3 with the junior NBA.
There are 2 double rows of about 16 courts each inside a fenced off area near the dorm. Each court is packed with guys...not a woman in sight. I ask Timothy why no women play and he shrugs and says that here they 'spend their time looking good'. On some courts there are pick-up matches in progress, on others the guys are just sharing a ball, taking shots. This all looks far more intimidating than I was expecting.
We ask a smallish group of 3 near the entrance if we can join them. I mostly just hang back, keeping out of the way. I know when I am outclassed, and I am SERIOUSLY outclassed. On other courts that I have watched Timothy play on this trip, play has always started with a long period of shooting before any kind of actual game develops. This I can handle, I think. But no, instead they go straight to the game, motioning me over to round out the 6 and off we go.
I do not embarass myself approximately twice in the entire time we play. Mostly I do my best just to avoid stepping on anyone (they move so fast!). Roy is fun to play with - even though I clearly suck (so not a strong enough word for exactly how bad I am compared to these men）, he still passes me the ball and keeps me in play. Mostly Timothy just avoids me whenever possible. The fast little guy on the other team is suprised enough when I get the ball from him (once) that he at least makes a show of keeping his eye on me. And then there's the big guy. The guy who is far and away the best player on the court. The one who, when I have the ball (no matter how close to the net) doesn't just NOT engage, but actually puts his arms down and physically turns his back to me. Like a robot on a power sensor, programmed to shut down each time he sees me.
15 minutes or so in, nowhere near the end of the game, Timothy simply walks off the court. He says he sees some friends on another court. WTF????? He doesn't come back. The guys all mill around for a few minutes looking confused, then reform themselves into the basic shooting I had expected all along. Once I step off the court.
Now don't get me wrong. I know how bad I am. I know what an absolute ass I am making of myself with these guys, skill wise. But I also know that no matter how bad a person is, you still show enough respect that you bring your game. It's not my (lack of) skill that is so utterly humiliating, it's the condescension emanating in waves from the other players.
When the wind picks up (in direct proportion to my anger), a lot of the courts empty out. Timothy drifts from his game to an empty court with just one other guy. He tosses me the ball half-heartedly on my way over to meet him and is shocked when I sink it easily from the free throw line mid stride. The other guy on the court doesn't see him pass to me and says something distinctly unfriendly in Chinese before Timothy tells him that I'm a friend. A few minutes later their game opens up again and they leave me alone with the ball. Fun.
A skinny, shy looking waif of a guy comes over and asks if he can join me. He is a biology major from one of my favorite towns in China. We take turns passing to each other and taking shots, a respectable number of which both of us make. Ocasionally we talk. This is the basketball I had in mind when I came over. Roy is still playing with the first group, fast and furious but fun. Timothy is playing with the second, red-faced and serious.
When Timothy is done playing he comes over to me and barks 'Come, dinner now.' No friendly 'hey, you hungry? ready to go eat?' This is not a language problem, this is an attitude problem. I feel like a dog that he is calling to heel. Walking back to the dorm, he says to my icy silence 'You must be really hungry. You're not smiling.' Uh huh, that must be it.
posted by Roberta | 10:50 AM
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