Basketball Diaries

I’ve been meaning to write something meaningful for some time now. The trouble is that I’ve never been able to find a topic that I’m well and truly passionate about. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not emotionally dead, but of late I’ve found it increasingly difficult to be moved into writing something.

If I had to write something it would probably have to do with literature and basketball – My two mistresses that I tend to dote over. I love to read and I love to play ball. Infact as I write this I’m reminded of a movie with just these 2 elements – Finding Forrester. The movie revolves around a young African American teenager who is as gifted with the pen as he is with the ball.

Sean Connery who plays the reclusive author Forrester, whose character, I have a suspicion, is inspired by the late J. D. Salinger, mentors the boy to realize his literary promise whilst he journeys on a path not often (if ever!) travelled by an African American baller from the Bronx.

There was one part in the movie that particularly caught my attention, which is what makes me write this drivel now. Forrester tells Jamaal, the protagonist baller slash literary apprentice, that the first thing to writing is….to write. That “sometimes the simple rhythm of typing gets us from page one to page two” and “when you begin to feel your own words, start typing them”. I suppose I’m putting that to test right now. I’ll have to wait and see if it actually works. It should at the very least, drive you to watch the movie anyway.

It is a pity that basketball has never really found a true ally in literature. The beauty of the game is often lost on the players who have to appear “gansta” to gain court “cred”, the below-than-average-IQ fan base, the sports writers who try to appear smarter (read Jason Whitlock) or funnier (read Bill Simmons) than they really are, or even the street players who play just for the heck of playing. There’s so much more that the game has to impart. There are so many subplots and subplots within subplots going on within even a simple game of 3-on-3 game going on in the remotest part of the world.

I remember reading an article written in Time magazine (http://www.time.com/time/specials/packages/article/0,28804,1861543_1865068_1865096,00.html ) by Barrack Obama’s brother-in-law, who happens to be the head coach for Oregon State University. I remember nodding with each line wishing that I had written a similar piece along these lines before he had. The main point (that I hope) he was trying to make, which I completely subscribe to, is how you can judge a person by watching him ball. I truly believe that no other sport in the history of the human race would help you deduce the kind of person a player is just by watching him play. It is my, perhaps ridiculous, belief that a person can be sized up just by watching him play for half an hour; the way he handles himself on court, his vision, his (un)selfishness, his leadership skills, his maturity, his mental toughness, his willingness to listen, his intellect, his sense of fashion, his societal standing, his sexual orientation and perhaps even his political ideologies (It is my experience that players who hate show boaters tend to lean towards the left). If a player is observed closely enough, he will most likely give you vital insights into his own character. It truly is a pity that all this is lost on most people, professionals and amateurs alike, who play ball. If it were upto me, Human Psychology 101, would probably start with a game of basketball.