Monday night was the first game of the playoffs for my rec basketball team. We finished fourth in the league with a record of 4-4, though we really only beat one team worth a damn. It's not that we're bad, which I'm not completely ruling out, but we're definitely the smallest team in the league.
It seems that most of the teams in the league consist of guys who probably played orgainized basketball at some point in their life, probably high school and maybe some from small colleges. Well, usually that means the guys are ranging in size from 6 feet and taller. Now, I'm just about 6 feet tall myself, but I'm also the third tallest guy on my team. Therein lies the problem. We have one guy who is probably 5'2" and two others that are around 5'7". That just doesn't bode well for rebounding. Nonetheless, we have one guy who is 6'7" and that sort of evens things out.
So, the game kicks off and I'm sitting on the bench. I've missed the last two games since I fucked up my thumb the game before that, so I'm fine with not starting. Oh, and the fact that I'm really not that great may have something to do with that as well. Nine minutes into the game, we make our first subs and I enter the game, the team is down by 3.
Things have been going pretty slow for both teams, with neither team really taking control of the game. I stay in the remainder of the half and we pull ahead by one at the half. We're feeling good and our zone defense is working, their shots are off, and I haven't re-injured my hand. I've got 3 points at this point, one on a post-up move and one on a free throw after I got fouled after an offensive rebound. Feeling solid.
I'm sitting to start the second half and things start picking up rapidly. Everyone on our team seems to be hitting shots and they appear to be getting tired. We move up by 18, then drop back to a 14 point lead as some of the guys look to be tiring. We make our subs with 11 minutes left in the game, and we're up by 14...nice.
Unfortunately, one guy on our team (who is probably the worst player on the team) decides he's going to take this opportunity to practice his three point shooting. Looking more like my 10th grade chemistry teacher, Dr. Pax, than John Paxson, we squander our lead and are only up by 6 rather quickly. This is also aided by their new-found ability to drain the 3-ball regardless of where they are on the court.
We re-group and pull the lead back up to 8 with three minutes left and I'm starting to wear down. Thinking fresh legs would be the best for the final stretch, I pull myself out of the game and watch the horror continue from the bench.
Despite the fact that this one guy has drilled four straight trays, we continue to leave him wide open and the lead drops down to 1 with 24 seconds left and they've just called a timeout having the ball.
Apparently, we need to consult the Phil Jackson school of basketball coaching because we stick with our 2-3 zone and allow the mad bomber to plug one more three-ball from pro three land with 6 seconds left.
I don't need to tell you what happened next, as we nearly botch even getting a shot off before bricking our last attempt. What the hell happened? I felt like the Wizards...but we didn't have Kwame around to put the blame on for being a lazy fuck.
Hopefully, the real Wizards will not meet the same fate. At least I've got a week to regroup before the next season starts...when the departure of one of our guys will make me the second tallest guy on the team. Woo hoo.