Tuesday, May 23, 2006

Basketball Jones

Remember the old Cheech and Chong skit, Basketball Jones? Starring Tyrone Shoelaces? Those were the days preceding all John Hughes films, when PC meant pretty cute. I was reminded of it yesterday. Emmett is in a throwing stage--balls, stuffed animals, teenaged mutant ninja turtles, Lincoln Logs, Tinkertoys, Mr. Potato Head, Gameboy--you name it. His two year old dexterity defies all prediction. Sometimes I cheer, "Great throw," and other times I wince, like when items go straight up and come down on his head.

Yesterday he threw a stuffed frog across the kitchen. It landed face first into a cup of coffee, as if it were bobbing for apples. Coffee splattered the countertops and cupboards. Mama was none too pleased, unlike Jackson, who wound up with a little "room time" for uncontrollably laughing. I've been there; but that's another story.

After the incident was recounted to me by the wife--son tag team when I got home last night, I said, "That reminds me of the time--"

"Yeah," my wife broke in, "like father like son." It was not a compliment.

It was a one in a million shot--left handed, across the living room. I had no idea I would make it. She had just sat down, newly showered, bright and fresh. Her blouse was downy white. She had coffee in a Styrofoam cup and had taken a couple sips and rested it on her lap. I sat across from her, holding a perfect wadded napkin that was so hard that it felt like a golf ball. It had the perfect heft. You have to understand how rare this is. There is always some slight imperfection, one little fringe that would throw it off course. The rim of her cup called to me. The time clock was ticking down and my team was down one. My right arm was sprained and there was no time to pass. I tossed it with my left hand and watched in fascinated horror as it took the perfect parabolic path and landed square in the middle of the coffee--nothing but net. Coffee splattered all over her blouse.

I tried to explain the situation, but she couldn't appreciate the long odds of making such a shot, that I was a hero.

Dames.

12 comments:

Anonymous said...

Sometimes the opportunity is just THERE. You have to take it.

I understand. :D

Flood said...

I also understand, as long as I am not the one in the white shirt.

Scott said...

Thank you Jason.

Flood - yeah, me too.

Melinda - Uh, no. And she still married me after that. Wow.

Kathleen said...

That's what she gets for wearing white - a color I avoid as much as possible for that precise reason.

If it had been me, I probably would have smacked you upside the head, so if you avoided physical violence, I think you did okay.

mr. schprock said...

Lefthanded? Nothing but net? Brilliant!

Natalie said...

That's totally Beth's fault. Who lives with three boys and wears white shirts? Come on!

Tee/Tracy said...

ROFL! Ah, to be just a guy ;)

Jeff said...

I've had a similar experience.
Is the magnificent shot worth the fussing you get? Yeah, I think it is. hehe

The Zombieslayer said...

Heh. With a name like Emmitt, you need to teach him to hold on things and run over other people while carrying them, not throwing them.

Never saw that Cheech and Chong skit. My parents wouldn't let us see Cheech and Chong.

Bhaswati said...

How does your wife cope with raising three sons? LOL.

Great post.

Ultra Toast Mosha God said...

Yeah, darn broads!

heh heh!

Nice shot. Teenwolf style.

Scott said...

Kat - A sensible girl--finally!

Mr. Schprock - High five my friend.

Nat - Another one!? This forces me to rethink the bedrock my life has been built on.

Tee - Yes, it is good to switch off the brain and just exist.

Jeff - It's the stuff memories are made of. I'm reading your story by the way. I printed it out yesterday.

Zombie - Now that was a total coincidence, but that would be a hard sell to you I'm sure.

Bhaswati - Life is balance my friend, meaning that she is enough woman that it takes all three of us to offset.

Toast - You know it baby!