Hippity-Hooping

Heaven for Seven GAME ELEVEN

Game Eleven
HEAVEN FOR SEVEN

Last night’s basketball game was a scream. I had more fun on the court than I have had during any other game so far. I didn’t just enjoy the game, as in playing the sport, but as in playing as a child plays; with abandonment and sheer joy. I enjoyed the feel of my body hopping, running, gliding along the court. Moving felt light and exquisite. It was great pleasure to feel my arms and legs in motion. I enjoyed the bend of my elbows and knees, the feel of my feet on the floor, and my hands waving in the air. It was like my body was a poem and it was rhyming with every move I made.

I managed to get the ball many times but only five shots hit their target. (Still, all together, they added up to ten points!) One shot in particular stands out amongst all the others, though, and it was the last basket of the game. I stole the ball from my opponent on a pivot, then spun around, shooting off like a jack rabbit towards our basket. I kept telling myself I better make this one after all the effort I put into stealing it and then dribbling the darn thing all the way down the court. Didn’t I scream in joy with every part of my body as I watched that great big beautiful orange ball sail smoothly through the air in a perfect arch, and then just as smoothly drop sedately through the net as if it had been made for that moment in time! I was so elated! The crowd cheered, from both teams, and I heard my name called out with glee over and over from a multitude of voices. It was a fantastic moment and I walked out of that building as though my feet were in the cl!
ouds.

We played a tough team, yet we matched them in many ways. They out-scored us, as all the other teams have in the past, but it was a joy to play them and I would do it again, even losing to them again, in a heartbeat.

Norm was present throughout the game and he watched me at my best. He even took some photos, which came out very, very dark, unfortunately. Some were nice action shots, too.

The low point of the entire night was when I hurt the middle finger of my right hand. It’s still throbbing even as I type. Vikki told me it’ll be sore for a few days and it won’t be the last time it happens, either. I can’t bend it, and it hurts to straighten it out, too. It’s very swollen as well. However, I will wear it like a trophy whenever it pains me in remembrance of that otherwise impeccable hour I spent enjoying life to the hilt on the court last night.

The carpets lying at my feet and the clothes in the hamper are all calling for my attention, so I better go get the vacuum and start a load of laundry before they all think my head’s gotten too big for them.