UNT Eagles 2016
01-29-2016, 02:03 AM
No, I didn't get laid. My date this afternoon bailed on me. My first game of IM season was at 9:30 tonight. There was a beautiful caramel skinned girl cheering on the other side named Morgan, but I don't think she wanted to talk to me.
So anyways.....
I'm the point guard and only guy on my team under 6 feet, only 1 of 2 white guys. Other team is pretty stacked.
We were down 59-50 with under 2 minutes left.
I was having kind of a rough game to that point, like 3/7, a couple turnovers, and a handful of occasions where my teammates missed me when I was wide open. Whatever.
So I quickly dribble it past my man, find my friend Nnaoma (a guy from my major department who was one of my students in the class I was the TA for last semester) for a layup. Down 59-52.
Other team kills some clock, jacks up a three and misses. One of my bigs gets the board and gives me the ball. I take it all the way in for an easy layup, but the same spot where I missed one early. This one rolls in. Down 59-54.
Other team then inexplicably jacks up another three but this time relatively quickly, it was open but still not a great shooter or shot. Unfortunately, somebody on the other team got the offensive board, but his put-back rolled off the iron! We get the second rebound, I get the ball and drive about halfway in and after a couple of passes around the horn, the best pure shooter on my team is open for an elbow 3. His shot appears to rim out, but lingers on the rim and goes in. Down 59-57.
Unfortunately, some guy from the other team was cherry picking on that shot. He gets the homerun pass and drives in, I rush back to grab his shoulder and arm, and he somehow makes both of his free throws. Down 61-57.
About 45 seconds left. I was looking to score quickly as possible. I drove about halfway in and shot an ill-advised floating hook shot to my right amongst the trees, that somehow went in off the window! Down 61-59.
The other team was looking to ice it. After running most of the shot clock (30 seconds), one of the swingmen on the other team cut to the basket but the pass was thrown behind him and Nnaoma snatched up the turnover. We were so close, but...
The biggest ballhog on my team, Jalen, was open for three after a Nnaoma drive. The shot hit the right side of the rim hard, bounced off the backboard once, and seemingly into the hands of my man near the basket -- the other team's point guard -- but then I somehow timed my contest for the ball perfectly in a flash, knocked it away towards the right sideline, my man gunning for the ball every bit as much as me -- it was a question of who wanted it more. I beat him in the crucial foot race and dribbled the ball out a couple times. There was only about five to seven seconds left to play. I hesitated as one of my bigger teammates cut to the rim, but decided the pass was too risky. Another guy called for a pass near the perimeter as the defense began to scramble. I dribbled towards the corner, with my man in my face and another defender hedging over, and launched a horrendous, ill-advised three... I knew I was going to miss, just hoping against hope someone on my team could get a rebound and quick putback before time ran out... the other team's bench was kind of screaming in my ears and saying perverted things trying to distract me... the impact from my defender's valiant contest knocking me a bit over to my right side...
When that shot went straight through the net with zero rim impact, the gym screamed louder for me before than it about ever had, rivaling some of my best clutch moments of 8th grade. I was never tall or strong enough to play in varsity high school, college, or the NBA. Every smartass in the gym during the previous 39 minutes and 59.9 seconds of gametime, as well as at halftime and every break, had looked at me with disdain as if I was some sort of pathetic runt who didn't belong on a basketball court with the big boys. Even my own teammates, save for maybe Nnaoma, a ripped 6'2" guy to his credit, doubted me. I could not believe what had just happened. I was actually clutch... for the first time in ohhhhhhh soooooooooo long! I turned around to that Morgan girl and screamed "HOW ABOUT THAT?!" in her and her friends' faces. I was exhilarated beyond imagination.
The other team called timeout with 1.1 showing in red, blocked letters on the score board. Home 61.... Visitors 62. Unbelievable!
We made one last good defensive stand and the other team ended up barely getting it inbounds and heaving a 35 foot prayer. Wide right, nothing but backboard. WE WON!!!!!!!!
I couldn't stop dancing and celebrating and heaving halfcourt shots in utter jubilation for the next 10 minutes. For the first time in ages, I felt confident enough that I could ask out the hottest girl in the world and she would marry me and let me flaunt her around whenever and wherever I wanted for all of eternity. I was PSYCHED!!
OH.
MY.
GOD.
What a fucking night!
Things are looking up! :D
So anyways.....
I'm the point guard and only guy on my team under 6 feet, only 1 of 2 white guys. Other team is pretty stacked.
We were down 59-50 with under 2 minutes left.
I was having kind of a rough game to that point, like 3/7, a couple turnovers, and a handful of occasions where my teammates missed me when I was wide open. Whatever.
So I quickly dribble it past my man, find my friend Nnaoma (a guy from my major department who was one of my students in the class I was the TA for last semester) for a layup. Down 59-52.
Other team kills some clock, jacks up a three and misses. One of my bigs gets the board and gives me the ball. I take it all the way in for an easy layup, but the same spot where I missed one early. This one rolls in. Down 59-54.
Other team then inexplicably jacks up another three but this time relatively quickly, it was open but still not a great shooter or shot. Unfortunately, somebody on the other team got the offensive board, but his put-back rolled off the iron! We get the second rebound, I get the ball and drive about halfway in and after a couple of passes around the horn, the best pure shooter on my team is open for an elbow 3. His shot appears to rim out, but lingers on the rim and goes in. Down 59-57.
Unfortunately, some guy from the other team was cherry picking on that shot. He gets the homerun pass and drives in, I rush back to grab his shoulder and arm, and he somehow makes both of his free throws. Down 61-57.
About 45 seconds left. I was looking to score quickly as possible. I drove about halfway in and shot an ill-advised floating hook shot to my right amongst the trees, that somehow went in off the window! Down 61-59.
The other team was looking to ice it. After running most of the shot clock (30 seconds), one of the swingmen on the other team cut to the basket but the pass was thrown behind him and Nnaoma snatched up the turnover. We were so close, but...
The biggest ballhog on my team, Jalen, was open for three after a Nnaoma drive. The shot hit the right side of the rim hard, bounced off the backboard once, and seemingly into the hands of my man near the basket -- the other team's point guard -- but then I somehow timed my contest for the ball perfectly in a flash, knocked it away towards the right sideline, my man gunning for the ball every bit as much as me -- it was a question of who wanted it more. I beat him in the crucial foot race and dribbled the ball out a couple times. There was only about five to seven seconds left to play. I hesitated as one of my bigger teammates cut to the rim, but decided the pass was too risky. Another guy called for a pass near the perimeter as the defense began to scramble. I dribbled towards the corner, with my man in my face and another defender hedging over, and launched a horrendous, ill-advised three... I knew I was going to miss, just hoping against hope someone on my team could get a rebound and quick putback before time ran out... the other team's bench was kind of screaming in my ears and saying perverted things trying to distract me... the impact from my defender's valiant contest knocking me a bit over to my right side...
When that shot went straight through the net with zero rim impact, the gym screamed louder for me before than it about ever had, rivaling some of my best clutch moments of 8th grade. I was never tall or strong enough to play in varsity high school, college, or the NBA. Every smartass in the gym during the previous 39 minutes and 59.9 seconds of gametime, as well as at halftime and every break, had looked at me with disdain as if I was some sort of pathetic runt who didn't belong on a basketball court with the big boys. Even my own teammates, save for maybe Nnaoma, a ripped 6'2" guy to his credit, doubted me. I could not believe what had just happened. I was actually clutch... for the first time in ohhhhhhh soooooooooo long! I turned around to that Morgan girl and screamed "HOW ABOUT THAT?!" in her and her friends' faces. I was exhilarated beyond imagination.
The other team called timeout with 1.1 showing in red, blocked letters on the score board. Home 61.... Visitors 62. Unbelievable!
We made one last good defensive stand and the other team ended up barely getting it inbounds and heaving a 35 foot prayer. Wide right, nothing but backboard. WE WON!!!!!!!!
I couldn't stop dancing and celebrating and heaving halfcourt shots in utter jubilation for the next 10 minutes. For the first time in ages, I felt confident enough that I could ask out the hottest girl in the world and she would marry me and let me flaunt her around whenever and wherever I wanted for all of eternity. I was PSYCHED!!
OH.
MY.
GOD.
What a fucking night!
Things are looking up! :D