Basketball Chronicles: My Name Isn't Casper

Yesterday, I decided to go to the gym and play ball, instead of work out. It had been almost 2 months since I played ball, and I was itching to get on the court. After an hour of shooting around, I noticed some older guys were coming in, and then I remembered…

Adult Open Gym!

Hells. Yes.

So, I make my way over to the court where it’s about to go down. The guys on the court are familiar with each other, and I knew I wasn’t being picked up. So, I told the court monitor to put me on the list.

Now, it’s time to get it in. I’m mentally getting myself together and I can hear this one dude asking another “Didn’t she just get here?” I turn towards him and say “I’ve been here for an hour. Plus my name is on the list.” Then he says to the same guy “Is she 35?*” I turn to him, again, and go “Actually I am. I was born in ‘82.” This dude goes “Yeah right.”

Now, I know I’m not Casper the Friendly Ghost, because he clearly sees me out there. Yet, your grown ass can’t directly ask me questions? Then you gon’ say “Yeah, right”?

Immediately, this dude is on my hit list. Fortunately, for him, he is on my team.

And he SUCKED!

I can already see where this is going to go as I become a Tuesday night regular:

  1. He continues to try disrespect me.

  2. I put him in his place.

  3. He’ll respect me, respect my game and want to be cool.

This happens every time a man tries it with me during a hoop session. One of the guys who previously tried with me was there last night. We were on opposite teams. He turned to the guy sticking me and said “Shit ain’t sweet, bruh,” then looks at me.

In other words “She can play.”

Niggas are gonna learn to put some respect on my game.

Now, is we finished or is we done?

Now, is we finished or is we done?

K to the…

*The Adult Open gym is for those ages 25 and up. He just didn’t want me on the court.

1 quarter, 3 months, 92 days

Forgive...and remember