Got some religion yesterday. The Knicks did not practice and the other writers were smart enough to go straight home from Toronto. My airline wouldn't let me make a last-second change without a hefty fee, so to the Deep South I went and after I checked into my hotel (and checked in with a few people) I walked through a very warm rainstorm and felt baptized by spring. Went into the Peachtree Athletic Club and grabbed a basketball.
Thump.
Ain't nothing like that sound in an empty gym.
Thump.
Just you and a ball and a game that never loved you back.
Thump.
Several hundred miles from home, where your wife is nine months pregnant and a doctor has just told her that they won't let her go beyond Thursday. And the baby can come any day now.
Thump.
Any day now.
Just gotta get through this next game, Fixers. This road trip ends here for me. I'll head home and K-Berg will meet the team in Milwaukee. Hot Rod Boone has the Memphis-New Orleans leg.
Me, I plan on holding a bundle of joy by then. My third child and second daughter. We're going to call her Gracie.
Thump.
The ball felt so good in my hands. Sometimes it just does and sometimes it doesn't. This one I can palm easily. I can feel the seams and flick it off my fingertips for the perfect spin that results in the perfect net-snap.
Swish.
You let your mind go when you're in the zone. Just go. Rip through, one dribble and shoot. Cross-over, rise and shoot again. Rebound, inside-pivot and shoot. Other side, same thing. Make 10. Follow all of your misses.
You think about your family, your wife who sounded so excited on the phone. You think about career and the restlessness of the unknown surrounding bids by rival newspapers to buy Newsday. What does it mean and what will be the result? You think about the season that has gone by and just what the hell is this franchise going to do to change the fortunes. You know that not everyone on this team is bad. There are good people. It always starts with leadership. They have to find a leader.
Grab the ball and go full-court. Crossover a few times, eyes always up, spotting different places on the wall as if they were players, as if you were making eye-contact. I see you, dude. Now cut.. Use the screen and pull up at the elbow.
Onions.
Hibachi.
Buckets.
Money.
Whatever they say now.
Up and down the length of the court for five makes. You're now dripping with sweat and panting, it's been an hour. Man, there was a time you could do this all day. All freakin day. But now you're old. Your knee is screaming at you louder than your lungs. Your hamstrings are warning you.
Free throws. Sink 'em. The old routine comes back before you even have time to recall it. Two dribbles. Pause. Bend and extend. Snap. Make 10. OK, make 7 of 10.
It feels good. Joy starts to overcome you. Take that power dribble and flush it. The rim snaps and makes a loud noise as you land on your feet. Damn that felt good. Almost 37 years old and can still get it down.
I dunk, therefore I am.
I coulda been a contendah. Right. I was lucky to even get as far as I did and I'm well aware of it. It used to frustrate me back then, but its someone else's life now. I hardly remember it. And that's OK.
There are better memories now. One of the best will come this week.
A walk through the warm Atlanta rain and I do nothing but smile.
I'll check in before the game. I know not everyone cares to hear about the life of a sportswriter, so thanks for letting me share, Fixers.
Comments (16)
Great post, Alan, and good luck with your child's impending birth.
I think your off day run on the court shows exactly while many of us continue to post on your blog, continue to follow the nonsense that is the NY Knicks, and continue to hope that at some point, there will be a change.
As an aside, the NCAA tournament is a another great reminder of how much fun basketball is when players try, and coaches coach well, and teams play together.
Good luck!
You should've called Alan, I'd have come down to PAC and run with you.
Good luck with child.
Another NYK loss please. Keep losing fellows, you're doing well.
Alan,...thanks. Gracie will help put things in perspective. You're a terrific writer - don't worry about it. Be happy!
Thump.
My head falling on my keyboard as fall asleep reading this.
Memorable, Alan – Red Smith would have been proud. Congratulations.
To the guy who fell asleep, the address is: http://blogs.nypost.com/sports/knicks/
Enjoy.
To Willis, Pete, sec11, NYC, et al . . . I wish there were a way we could all send something to the family on Thursday, from all of us. I’m just not clever enough to figure out how to do it.
By the way -- great name. Think of it. Bedtime for the next few decades, you'll get to say . . . Say good night, Gracie.
Good Luck and congrats Alan.
Me and the wife are expecting the first in September.
Its time for them to take up the game now. And I'm happy to pass it on. After 6 knee ops, nearly losing my legs in an accident at 20, it wasn't until until my left achilles snapped with a sound like over-stressed silly puddy at 36 I said no more.
Funny, I thought I would be tortured, but I guess leaving it all out there means you can complete a day or an era and carry on to next things happily. Your always trying to prove something to yourself and others, and surprisingly, once its done, you barely remember anything about it. Guys talk about games you played in this park or that - gone, all gone - but I remember the feeling. Butterflies just because you're dribbling down to the park to see what kind of comp the day will bring. Now I can't wait to rebound for the next generation.
TRANE, a sweet thought, but alan is a rich man in the true sense of the words. he has his family, his health, and a job he loves, which has never been more evident than his last post (nice allusion to red, trane). the only thing we can offer to the man is our respect for the great work he does here, and warmth and best wishes for the whole family.
i loved this last post alan, it captured much of why many of us can never get the game out of our blood, why we are lifer's in this game. between WILLIS and me we have 10 knee ops, and i'd still be out there if i didn't have to be on my feet for work all day long.
stay in touch al, let us know how it goes, and def post a pic of gracie at some point.
ALAN,
Good luck with the 3rd one.
Too bad you're on the road to cover this lousy team..
But hey, it makes you appreciate more what's important in life.
Any chance that the beat writers can gang up on Zeke and take turns body slamming him? :D
PS
Gracie is a very lovely name.
Alan,
Great post - I think a lot of fans have that sort of deep love of the game deep inside somewhere. Thanks for making me think of mine.
Its also why its so painful to watch guys who rode it all the way to the NBA level playing without heart.
All the best to you, Gracie and the family - the coming days will being you joy.
PS - Trane - "Say good night Gracie" - classic.
Damn Alan I wish I would've known you were there, I would've taken pleasure in draining J's in your face.Haha...All joking aside, I'll be at this silly game today...Let's go Ping Pong balls!!!!
Willis – congratulations to you, too. I was dragged into fatherhood, kicking and screaming. Best thing to ever happen to me. It’s quite stunning how the most common thing in the world . . . indeed, other than breathing and eating, the one thing everybody on earth has in common . . . can change your life more profoundly than anything else you’ll ever do. And yet, it’s also the most natural thing in the world. The one thing I wasn’t prepared for was just how much fun it is.
I also love repeating the single best line of advice I ever got. People from my wife’s work gave her a shower. And I wasn’t doing well. I guess it was all becoming too tangible, with piles of baby things all over the house. A very eminent guy from the company saw this, took me aside and told me just to trust my instincts and all would be fine. Then the great line:
“This isn’t difficult.,” he told me. “Just give them plenty to eat, don’t drop them on their head . . . and they’ll be fine.” It’s true.
advance congratulations. it'll be much more exciting than any knick game.
Pure Poetry ! Great Post ! Mazal Tov !
Maybe the kid will write about Ilya Kovalchuk and Eric Boulton. That's about Hahn Speed.
I wonder if Mike Milbury will be at the birth. He does owe you, screwdriver, for all your years of loyal service.
A boring, lengthy, rambling, incoherent blog posting by the screwdriver? That never happens...