Enjoy! 5 Minute Read
There are many “firsts” in all of our lives. For grandparents, those “firsts” experienced by their grandchildren can be very special occasions. The grandkids first day on earth, their first tooth, their first words, their first birthday, their first steps. But can your grandkids getting their first real basketball goal count for anything? If you are a basketball fan and especially from Indiana, I think it is a pretty big deal, it’s a slam dunk.
So I was pretty pumped last night when our son-in-law from Dallas texted me this picture. I want to share with you some of the details that led up to my moment of joy seeing a real basketball goal in my Dallas family’s living room.
A few weeks ago, our daughter faced timed us and shared that they had just signed up our two oldest grandsons, Grant five and Freddie three, into the local YMCA Youth Basketball League. During the call, the boys were “dribbling” around the living room with my daughter instructing them to use one hand. And as I recall that time now, that too was a pretty cool. Freddie replied to his mom that he could dribble with no hands and took his basketball and just let it drop from his hands to the floor! (Shades of Grandpa?)
Of course the next calls included inquiries from me about their games and practices. I laughed when my daughter sent me clips from one of their games where they lost to team with a player she described as “a toddler Michael Jordan”. Alex, our son-in-law shared that there always seemed to be a one kid “who gets it” and will pretty much dominate the game. For their age level that is most often the case.
They are in a five and under league and I am just glad they seem to be enjoying the game. I don’t want to be too wacky of a grandfather. I did get them a little tike goal and ball. They also have some nerf hoops hanging around their house that came from me, but those ventures in to basketball equipment did not give me the same rush as the “first” official size goal!
The goal in the picture was a Christmas gift from my wife and me. I had hoped to pick one up for them while we were in Dallas. My wife said we should just order it from Amazon, and of course she was right. Trying to pick one up from Sam’s and Wal-Mart wasn’t successful. So my wife, who has actually coached basketball, took care of securing that beauty my son-in-law assembled in their living room.
In all the excitement of my grandsons getting their first real basketball goal, memories started flooding my mind about the first basketball goal that wasn’t in our basement. I was in third grade and my brother, Mark, was in kindergarten. Of course in 1967 there was no Wal-Mart, Sam’s or Amazon. Basketball goals were mostly on poles with handmade wooden backboards. At least that is what we had. Most of you who have made it through some my other stories know my dad was a high school basketball coach.
Dad was pretty concerned about the quality of our goal. He had the pole set in the corner of our yard and I believe someone at the local lumber yard made the large square backboard and attached the rim. The goal was solid. I remember it also had an all-weather net that seemed to last longer than it should have. I don’t know if the nets’ longevity was because of the tough material or the fact that my brother and I plus all the kids that played with us weren’t exactly ripping the nets with made shots.
The old coach wanted a solid ten foot high goal, but seemed not to be as concerned about the playing surface. About half of the court was grass that quickly changed to dirt. The other half was a graveled alley that was behind our house. Dribbling in the alley was a challenge, but it did make us better ball handlders. It was a great set up that I hadn’t thought about in years. I would be amiss not to share that about three years later, Dad gave us one of the best back yard courts in town. He put the same goal and back board on a pole he had moved to the center of our yard. Then he added a nice concrete court. I can still see that huge concrete truck in our small backyard with the mixer turning and grinding the cement. The gray wet cement oozing down the chute filling up the court, it was amazing. I probably really never appreciated how much our parents spent on that court for us. We had a light in a tree so we could play at night. If we weren’t playing at home, we could be found at the Odon Park. We had tons of fun at both places.
Maybe that first “real” basketball goal means more than we realize. I know it now does for me as I think about my grandsons.