24

I’ve played basketball for as long as I can remember. As kids, my friends and I spent hours playing on the half court Dad set up in our back driveway. It was there that we acted out our dreams of being Michael Jordan, John Stockton and Steve Nash. As we grew older our obsession for the game grew along with us. We succeeded in pushing each other through high school ball and onto the Yale varsity team. Though I had always loved basketball, at Yale, I became a true student of the game. I managed to take my skills and understanding of the game to a higher level. After college, I played a lot less as I became more involved in journalism and my work with the Pacific Free Press. Still, even after I started Eyes Only I managed to squeeze in a few pickup games here and there. It was the one thing I couldn't completely give up.

I love the game and I'm looking forward to the prospect of playing again. But yesterday, I resisted the idea so fervently that it took all of Bling's numerous persuasive powers to get me on the court.

I've been stuck on this seemingly endless plateau for about a month now, working hard at rehab and getting nowhere. I know I must be doing something wrong but I have no idea what it is. Yesterday, I had already dragged myself onto the training table when Bling nonchalantly walked in with a basketball in his hand and suggested we go shoot a few hoops.

"I'm not in the mood to shoot hoops. I have a lot of work to do." I replied with barely restrained impatience.

"Logan, sometimes a change of pace can be the trigger that can push you onto a higher level." Bling persisted. His theories can be so irritating at times.

"Look Bling. I don't need a change of pace. Fooling around with a basketball isn't going get me anywhere. I don't have time for irrelevant games." I continued to resist. By this point, any pretense of restraint was gone as I glared at Bling.

"Catch!" Out of nowhere, the basketball was flying at my chest. I plucked it out of the air with the practiced ease that comes from years playing the game. As I had done thousands of times before, I cupped the ball softly in my hands and I leaned back to absorb its momentum. Over the years, I've caught many balls moving faster than that on the basketball court. But when I attempted to straighten up, I found myself still moving backwards. It was then that I realized that I didn't have sufficient abdominal control to stabilize myself, and that I would mostly likely be on the floor in another second. Needless to say, holding onto the ball became a low priority as I clutched at the sides of the training table to prevent myself from falling over backwards.

"What did you do that for?" I yelled at Bling. He doesn't usually put me in risky situations. Normally, he's the one trying to stop me from doing something stupid.

"Today, we are working on eye/hand coordination and core stability. Get in the chair. We're going down to the basketball court in the park." Bling said simply, having successfully made his point. He retrieved the basketball that had bounced across the floor and headed out the door. I don't know why I ever bothered to resist him.

I offered Bling my thousandth apology as we crossed the street. He accepted in his usual professional manner, while adding a lesson for good measure.

"Logan, cross training can be a valuable tool in any training program. It helps you use muscle groups in different combinations and through different ranges of motion. It is very effective in improving functional strength and endurance."

Bling had me sit on one of the courtside benches as we worked on catching technique. As we progressed, he increased the speed and intensity of each pass and also varied the angle of the throw. Eventually, I was catching balls that he tossed more than an arm's length away, albeit with varying amounts of success. Without the back support that the wheelchair provides, I had to focus intensely on retaining my balance after each catch. I also found that throwing a pass from a seated position was very different from what I had been accustomed to. With my legs not involved, I had to find an alternative method of generating the power to throw the ball a significant distance. It felt like I was using every muscle fiber in my body, arms, chest, back and especially abdominals, to generate the necessary force.

"That's it, Logan. Power always begins at the core and radiates from there." Bling was ready with a technical explanation for everything that we did.

"Let's move onto the court and work on some dribbling and shooting skills." He suggested. Dribbling the ball while simultaneously pushing a wheelchair is an interesting combination of skills, to say the least. I dribbled the ball off my foot a few times before I adjusted to the angle of the chair. But by the end of our session, I was able to work my way up and down the court with a moderate amount of control.

I found shooting to be the easiest skill to adapt to since it required essentially the same techniques as the passing skills that we had previously worked on. By the end of our session, I felt some of the natural groove that I always had on the court returning. Bling was right, of course. This was exactly what I needed. I found myself insisting that we return for another session.

Looking back at it now, Bling knew exactly what he was doing. When we returned to the court this afternoon, we just 'happened' to catch the end of a wheelchair basketball game. I was instantly sucked into the activity on the court. Those guys could move! They could turn on a dime and move the ball down the court in a couple of seconds. Their game was intense and physical. They had no qualms about making contact with each other to gain a shooting advantage. They finished a few minutes later, leaving me hungry to see more. They were doing things out there that I didn't think were possible in a wheelchair.

Despite myself, I felt completely inspired as we began our session today. We worked on the same skills as yesterday, focussing on core stability and balance. I quickly became immersed in what I was doing as I pushed myself through the passing, dribbling and shooting drills. About one hour later, I took my eyes off the ball long enough to realize that I had an audience of my own. It was one of the players from the game. He had been sitting there for most of the hour and I hadn't even noticed him.

"Pretty good skills you've got there." He called out to me as he wheeled in my direction. His legs were completely atrophied, indicating that his injury was probably several years old, but he had excellent upper body development. Even in the wheelchair, he had the natural grace and carriage of an athlete. He crossed the court with a couple of strong pushes on the wheels of his chair. "Nice to meet you." He held a strong callused hand toward me. "My name is Jack Smith."

"Thanks." I reached out my hand to meet his. "Logan Cale."

"I noticed you watching us earlier. I wonder if you would be interested in joining us for a pickup game on Saturday afternoon?"

"I would love to, but I have only been back on the court the last two days. And I've never even played the wheelchair game before." I stalled. "I would only slow you guys down." Was he kidding? I would pay him for the opportunity to play! But I knew I would be in way over my head. There was no way I could keep up with what I had seen on the court that afternoon.

"Not a problem. We have a variety of skill levels and functional abilities. We could really use another player." Jack was persistent. "Outside court at the community center. Game starts at two. Meet me there an hour earlier and I'll give you a few pointers and help you set up." I was about to protest when Jack wheeled away, not waiting for a response. He must have been taking lessons from Bling's book of persuasiveness.

"You heard the man." Bling gave me his 'you'll be there even if it kills' you look.

"Whatever you say, Mom." I laughed at him.

I can't believe I'm actually going to play basketball again, but the truth is, I can't wait to get out on that court.