Basket Case!

By Jody Worsham
All rights reserved for Basketball GPS

There are those who pay hundreds even thousands of
dollars for court side seats to see exciting NBA playoff tournaments. I, however, only had to pay $4 for court side seats for a double elimination tournament that almost sent me into cardiac
arrest.

It was the Little Dribblers end of season tournament, our six-year-old’s first and ours, too. We were scheduled against a team we had already beaten twice in the regular season.
They had a coach that would put Bob Knight to shame, but then fear can make super athletes of us all. I had also heard that they were bringing in a ringer, a tall guy standing 3feet 11
inches but that turned out to be a rumor. Our guys were ready in any case and we had enough players show up this time to allow for a sub.

In our son’s league we play six minute quarters, that is when the person running the clock remembers to run the clock. This time our second quarter lasted thirteen minutes and would have most likely gone on into the evening if the fans hadn’t started chanting “Start the Clock! Start the Clock! Start the Clock!”

By the fourth quarter we were ahead by two points
and behind schedule by ten minutes. Five seconds to go, and we had the ball. I was dancing on the seats! Five seconds! All we had to do was hold the ball! Victory was in the hands of #18.
He had never made an attempt to shoot the ball in a game during the entire season. He was a ball
holder! Yes, our first win!

Then in true “Hoosier” fashion, #18 turned, shot the ball, and it went in…the other team’s hoop!
Score tied!

I’m gasping for air, grabbing my chest. Two seconds on the clock. Our tall guy rebounds, turns to
shoot at the other team’s basket as the crowd screams NOOOOOOOOooooooo! He freezes just as the buzzer sounds. Score tied! Our boys are screaming and giving high fives to #18 for scoring his first two points! His coach/dad was eating his hat.

We have to go into overtime; a three minute quarter with each team having about twenty-two time outs. One coach is planning strategy and the other is trying to round up all our players who have taken a potty break or have gone up into the stands looking for parents and Gatorade.
I have just enough time before the game starts to locate that little red fire extinguisher
looking thing that dephibs your heart.

The referee calls “Start the Clock” and tosses up the ball. The next forty-five minutes of
the three minute overtime is a blur. I think I may have passed out. When I
could focus again, we were up two points with four seconds left. I was muttering “Which one is our basket? Which one is our basket?” Four, three, two... We won!

An hour later we played again only minus our one and only sub. Since we had only played one
game each Saturday during the season, I guess he thought we were through. Double elimination meant we were going to have to play two more games no matter what. We lost the next game and had to immediately play again. Since there was no time for food, I went insearch of Pixie Stixs and chocolate to give our kids enough energy to finish the next game. My husband went in search
of nitro tablets, or failing that, a battery charger for me.

We lost that game also. On the way home with our little dribbler
snoring in the back seat, all the talk was about that overtime game.

The NBA has nothing on Little Dribblers, well except maybe a better GPS and on site
paramedics.

Thank goodness baseball starts tomorrow. No overtimes.

What? Extra innings?
Nooooooo!