That Night I Came Off The Bench

This story follows a previous tale told. Check out part 1 here.

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The cast on my right arm went all the way from palm to just past my elbow–plenty of fiberglass real estate for signatures–and locked my busted limb at an almost ninety degree angle. As a left-hander I continued to write and eat normally. Shooting basketballs was a different matter.

B-ball had only been a hobby until that time. My injury coincided with a growth spurt that left me near 6’3 and skinny as a rail for my senior year. I had not played basketball during high school even though my friends all did. Once I became the second tallest kid in school more parents suggested that I join the team.

Before breaking my arm, I used to shoot from the gut. Both arms extended at once, the left pushing and right guiding. That bulky cast took my guide arm out of commission for weeks.

After a few cramped days indoors, I decided to pick up a ball again. If I released the ball from overhead I could use my right arm to guide the shot despite being incapacitated. With that adjustment I discovered a new release point and launched hundreds of balls in that way before the big day when that dirty, itchy cast was sawed off.

As soon as I got home I grabbed a ball and hit the street. I’ll never forget the first shot I took. I reverted to my old release, hands pushing from the hip.

Your elbow gets locked in a bent position after being stuck that way for so many weeks. My tender arm was not ready to be yanked straight when I forced it that day. I clutched my arm and crumpled in pain. Practice ended after about ten seconds.

I never shot a ball that way again.

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When the season began I played center behind our 6’6 starter Scotty. I learned the game as we practiced our plays over and over.

The main play was called “shuffle.” I can still run that thing in my head all these years later. The job of the center was to jump out to the foul line towards the top of the key, back to the hoop. After receiving the ball there you could dish to a sprinting guard or turn and shoot.

Coach wanted every player to be prepared, even the newbies like me. He cranked the heat up over 90 degrees during practice. We ran every team into the ground that year and went undefeated at home. I also learned that those crazy screaming coaches on sidelines can be great guys.

My big chance came on the road one night in January when Scotty got injured. I was in.