When and why did this love affair begin? I’m not entirely sure.  At what point did basketball grab my heart and refuse to let go? I must have had a ball in my crib, but the first photo of me dunking a basketball into a hoop held by my Dad was probably taken when I was about one. Imagine if I had been born in 2018. There would have been hundreds if not thousands of digital pictures of me with my beloved basketball, instead, I grew up in the age of film when every image was precious and you didn’t know what you had until the film got developed (Under 20? Ask your parents what that was like!) Regardless of when the love affair began, it continues as strong as ever to this day.

5 years ago this summer I was invited to play in a charity basketball tournament with two of my college teammates from Kent State, two other former Kent players and, and one friend of my college teammate. I was the oldest player at 43 and the youngest was 39. We won our first game against some guys similar in age to us. We felt pretty good after that first win. Unfortunately, in the second game we ran into some young guys in their early twenties, not very good, but much younger and quicker than any of us. We were losing with about 6 minutes left in the game and as I attempted to stay in front of my opponent on defense I felt a strange feeling in my right knee. Not painful, just strange, like the top half of my leg went one way and the bottom half went the other. I checked out of the game, sat for the remainder of that loss, and then went out into the hallway to test the knee. I wanted to play again because our team only had 6 players and the weekend tournament had just started. After doing some cutting, planting, and jumping out in the hallway between games I decided to give it a go in the next game. I made it about 8 minutes when I felt the same sensation in my knee. I sat out the rest of the day and headed back to the hotel room with my friend Brook Bright who had played at Kent the four years immediately following me. Overnight the knee swelled up so I headed home, dejected that I couldn’t play in the remainder of the tournament and unable to flex my knee more than a few inches. I hobbled around for a few days after that with no improvement at all in the knee’s range of motion. Being stubborn, I hadn’t gone to see the doctor figuring the swelling would eventually subside and I’d recover just like I always had. At this point, my wife insisted I make a doctor’s appointment, so I did. The appointment was set for three days later. By the time the day of the appointment arrived the knee was beginning to loosen up and the swelling was way down. I went to the doctor feeling positive that maybe I had a sprained knee or some other minor issue that time, rest, and ice could cure. Uhhh, No! Immediate diagnosis from the doc within 5 seconds of looking at my knee – torn acl, later verified via an MRI. I was stunned. My injury did not look or feel like the torn acl injuries I’d seen on tv. There was no “pop”. There was no excruciating pain. I simply could not believe that I had a torn acl. I considered surgery and met with the surgeon that would perform the operation, but ultimately, I never had the surgery. Partly because I didn’t want to be laid up for a while and partly because I’m just a little nervous when it comes to surgery. Eventually the knee returned to a normal range of motion and here we are 5 years later. That injury marked the end of my playing career. I wasn’t playing much anyway at the time I was injured. Since my kids had been born there just wasn’t enough time in the day. The injury and my inability to play as well as I would have liked (in other words, my ego) led to my “retirement” from playing ball.

Fast forward to August 3, 2018. Kent State was hosting a Men’s Basketball Alumni Game. I had a decision to make. I was going to head down to Kent for the game to see old friends and teammates regardless, but was I going to play in the game? I hadn’t played any live action basketball since the torn acl. That morning I told myself, “Bring your stuff down so at least you have the option to play if you want.” As I drove the 45 minutes to Kent I was thinking, “a few trips up and down the court, maybe knock in a three, run in straight lines, check yourself out of the game. No doctor’s appointment needed the next day,” Good plan.

As it turned out there were 16 guys that “brought their stuff” to play. 8 players on a team. One guy, Jimmy Hall, graduated in in May of 2018. Several others were still playing professionally in Europe. A few guys younger than me were there, but sitting it out due to previous injuries or other reasons. I was going to be the oldest guy to play in the game. I worried about my knee as the game began, but that worry quickly evaporated as the game was competitive right from the tip. I knew I wasn’t going to be running up and down a few times and then sitting the rest of the game. I played 25 of the 40 minutes. My team lost on a buzzer beater in overtime by the aforementioned Jimmy Hall. I scored 7 points, made a three and two layups, one where I twisted away from a defender and had to land awkwardly. The knee held up! Surprisingly, my body wasn’t stiff or sore the next day like it typically is the day after I participate in some new activity or new exercise (getting old is rough!)

Why did I play in the game? Wasn’t I risking doing more damage to my knee? Wasn’t playing on a torn acl when I hadn’t played in 5 years stupid? YES, but…I had sooo much fun. I remembered why I fell in love with the game back when I was just a little kid on my driveway.

It starts simply with the connections you make with your teammates. Two of the guys on my team I already knew pretty well. One over a pretty long period of time (Brook Bright) and the other I just connected with over the last 6 months (Trevor Huffman). The other guys I knew by name, but had never met before. As soon as the sides were picked the guys came together and instantly we were a team battling side by side, rooting for each other. We were invested. There is nothing like that anywhere else where you can throw 5 guys together and suddenly you’re a “team”. When the game ended, our team was upset that we lost. It was a fun game, a meaningless game, and yet I could feel the sting when it ended in an L.

I realized that I missed the chatter that takes place in the locker room before and after the game. Just sitting around talking and bonding with your teammates. You are a part of something bigger than yourself. That connection with teammates is real. Even in a case like this where the team is only together on the court for an hour or two, basketball brings people together like nothing else I have ever experienced.

Out on the court it was so much fun to match up with an opposing player and test myself against them. I remember a moment from the game where I got boxed out, gave up an offensive rebound basket, and was angry with myself that I wasn’t stronger or in better position to prevent that basket. I remembered that one advantage I always had against guys that were more athletic (could run faster or jump higher) than me was to simply keep moving and out running them. I found that “magic” formula still worked (even at age 48) and led to me getting open for two of my baskets. The opportunities to truly compete have dwindled as I’ve gotten older. I miss the daily battles, putting my abilities to the test against other players out on the court.

I love the feeling I get when a jump shot drops through the basket. There’s nothing better than running back on defense with a little extra spring in your step after your shot swishes through the net. I love finding an open teammate and setting them up to score. When they point at you and say “nice pass”, you know they appreciate you getting them the ball at the right time.

I love the timeouts when guys are high- fiving and fist bumping and sharing words of encouragement. I love the feeling you get on an important possession when the stakes are just a little bit higher. Everyone digs in just a little deeper.

The chance to play one more time at the MAC Center on Kent State’s campus and experience the game as a player again after five years away was too much pass up. Kent State was a place that taught me how to be tough. It taught me how to fight through adversity. My time there wasn’t always fun, in fact many times it was not fun at all. And yet…It is a place that I feel a deep connection and loyalty to even 30 years after I first set foot on the campus as one of 8 freshmen in 1988. Only three of us made it all four years and even for us it was a struggle at times. But in the end, what kept me going back then and what drove me to play in the alumni game last Friday was a love affair with the game that began before I can even remember. I knew I loved the game, but I never realized how much I missed it until last Friday. Thank you basketball for reminding me why I fell in love with you in the first place!

Nothing else can provide moments like this one.

By the way, my eventual college coach at Kent State, Jim McDonald, came to this game, but left in the fourth quarter before the game went into overtime. Somehow, he still decided to offer me his final scholarship despite missing the best moment of my high school career!

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