My recent sporting escapades in the beginning of 2011 were not as successful as I initially hoped. I consider myself an athletic guy and I tend to thrive in competition. Although I am five foot nothing and weigh less than my Chuukese grandma, I have been rather good at sports for the majority of my life and can usually hang with the best in whatever I do. I have never been the best at any given sport. I was a captain of my football team and had many memorable accomplishments, but I was never the best player on the team. I won dozens of races in track and received numerous accolades, but I was never the fastest man in town. I quickly learned the sports of lacrosse and rugby and gained starting spots within my first year of play, but I am far from dominant in either game. I can beat most people that I know in a round of golf, but I still have my fair share of shanks and duffs. I thoroughly enjoy basketball and often am the star of my team in pick up games, but due my shortness and whiteness I never quite made it to the NBA.
I am just making the point that I although I am not an extraordinary athlete, I am a pretty damn good one. Whenever I have not excelled at a sport, I have left it behind. In baseball, I sat on the bench for a few games in little league and decided to quit the next year. In soccer, I was benched for a school Harvest cup game in 5th grade and frustratingly moved away from that sport. I grew up playing tennis, but then got whomped in a few matches when I played in real tournaments; now tennis is just a holiday game. At the end of my Junior year in high school I ran in the CIF finals for track, but realized that the peak level of competition was over my head. I would never be a serious college star, so I hung up my short shorts and never returned to the track. I broke my hand during my sophomore year and missed half the basketball season. When I returned to the team, I had lost my starting spot and was relegated to cheering section. I soon after decided to permanently sit in the cheering section and basketball just became a recreational sport. I do not consider myself a quitter because it is impossible to play half a dozen sports at once and I had to make decisions about which ones to concentrate my energy on. However, the moral of the story is that I do not like it if I do not excel at a sport. I hate to sit on the bench. I hate to admit that I am inferior to my competition. I am an inherently competitive guy and always want to succeed.
I have previously described how I have dominated the basketball scene here in Micronesia. Although the average Micronesian is strong, quick and aggressive; due to the lack of basketball resources they do not have the refined skills that most Americans have obtained. In pick-up games I run the show and drain shots from all over the court. I tend to do quite well in America, but over on these islands my game has been elevated to a new level.
I was invited to play on a team representing Parem in an island-wide basketball tournament. We had a bye the first game and the second game the other team forfeited. As a result, we were immediately placed in the semi-final game. The other teams had plays, ran presses and had relatively good uniforms. Our team was a mishmash of random players from different villages and most of us hadn’t ever played with each other before. Due to my previous island experience, I expected to be the star of the game.
I was the starting point guard and was cheered raucously by a surprisingly large crowd of a couple hundred as I walked out onto the court. The opening tip off came to me and I hurried down the court with the ball but threw a bad pass that was quickly stolen. Next possession I split two defenders and drove to the middle of key to pull up and take a shot, but a big man swatted my shot to the moon. I began to hustle back on defense, but my hamstring sharply cramped up and I slowed to a jog. Although my leg was tender and weak, I wasn’t going to sub out within the first minute of the game. A couple of plays later I airballed a 3-pointer. I ran back on defense and stole the ball from behind as the other player dribbled up the court, but I then missed a wide open lay up coming down the other way. This was the story of my game.
I hobbled off the court after the first quarter and asked to take a break to stretch my leg. I returned in the second half, but was just as terrible. I had lost my quick step, my shot was off, and my confidence was blown. We miraculously won the game, but I scored zero points and only came away with a hurt leg.
The next game was the championship. I was determined to make a better showing of myself. Hundreds of people were watching the competition and I was the most popular attraction. A white guy playing in Chuuk! This was something to see. Everybody wanted to see how I would perform. I came early to the court, practiced my shot and warmed up with a few pick up games. I drained most of my shots and kicked some ass.
Once again, I was the starting point guard for the game. My leg was feeling ok and I felt ready to go. This time I was confident that I would be in the zone and showcase some of my talents. However, things didn’t quite go as planned. I once again played atrociously. I missed shot after shot, threw a couple bad passes, and got blocked by the same guy twice in a row. After the first quarter we were down by almost 20 and I was subbed out. I never returned. This infuriated me. I watched as our team got thwomped by the opponent, but the coach wouldn’t give me another chance to play. He saw me play like crap two games in a row and he figured that my time was done. I don’t speak much Chuukese and couldn’t exactly make a coherent argument for why I should be able to go back in. I just sat and frustratingly watched as we got crushed in the championship game. It was the first time in a long time that I was benched in anything, and it pissed me off. But I guess I cant really complain, although I knew in my heart that I could change the game around and play at a much higher level; I didn’t do anything previously to show that I would help. So basically, basketball was a bust. However, the following week was the big track meet.
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