On Wednesday in the John Wooden Center, I played a number of pick-up basketball games in which I hardly ever utilized a proper defensive stance, failed to get to the foul line even once, and did not run a liner for every missed layup.
Tonight, I shall compete in an intramural softball game during which I will swing at pitches that are higher than LeBron in a bounce house, and round what pass for bases ““ separated from each other by about 15 inches ““ faster than Usain Bolt sneezes.
And this weekend, I plan to pop in old home videos of my high school sports days, and sobbingly reminisce about the climax of my competitive sports career. Yes, Doctor, I’ve got a bad case of nostalgia.
Let me preface this by saying how lucky we are to have opportunities like those mentioned above; the facilities and activities that UCLA offers certainly guarantee an outlet for our athletic desires, at least to some extent. But I know there are a number of former high school athletes at this institution ““ myself included ““ who crave those moments of organized competition that really matter.
This is no knock on the personnel, as there are enough superb athletes here that you should be able to push yourself and showcase your abilities. Rather, I miss my jerseys, my matching team shoes, student sections shouting my name, and bolting out of the locker room to “Heart of a Champion.”
Now? My pregame routine is a saunter down Bruin Walk, picking my nose and listening to Bruce Springsteen’s “Glory Days” on the iPod.
Nor is this a knock on the opportunities to get better; I have found that the best way to get accustomed to physical play on the hardwood is to spend an afternoon in the Wooden Center. Not to mention, my slugging percentage in IM softball is higher than it ever was in all my years of playing baseball. Combined.
If you were a respectable high school athlete, you probably lived for those moments in the competitive spotlight. I made my fair share of clutch three-pointers for the varsity squad, but I was surely no Robert Horry, and not just because I wasn’t Will Smith’s doppelganger. The whole environment of high school sports ““ the game day tradition of wearing suits, leaving school early for baseball games, having your girlfriend wear your jersey ““ was our own little scaled-down version of the professional sports scene, and it’s something we just don’t get to experience any more.
Our situation at UCLA particularly magnifies this conundrum. For one, the school boasts an elite NCAA athletic department that the vast majority of us have zero chance of being a part of. Additionally, the school is so appealing in every other way that it draws former high school stars who are willing to forgo their athletic careers for other pursuits. Thus, we are destined to hover in this sporting purgatory where great competitors collide in environments that have all the atmosphere and exhilaration of a retirement home checkers tournament.
I surely do not want to speak for everyone, but I do get the sense that my nostalgia in this case is both contagious and pervasive.
If this were professional sports, we would all go back and be broadcasters or coaches for our high school teams, and I think it is safe to say that that would lead to quick disillusionment. And quick bankruptcy.
Generally at this point in a diatribe, it would make sense to present a solution to the dilemma, yet I have none. But maybe we need to look at this from a slightly different perspective.
Perhaps this is the next great hurdle in the arc of our athletic career. Perhaps we have not yet reached the apex of sporting achievement. Perhaps, o ye stars of high school past, it is the professionals who have it easy, and our collective story is the real American athletic coming of age.
I maintain the form on my jump shot just in case. I make it a habit to dive for every groundball, for more than posterity’s sake. The nostalgia is leaving my person with the velocity of an athlete bursting from a locker room, and Daughtry is singing “It’s Not Over” in the background.
If you’d like to cheer for him or wear one of his shirts during his pick-up games, e-mail Eshoff at [email protected].