Stories
Regenerate Hoops Junkie
basketball Brooklyn dunk family hoops Naismith
I grew up in the Southeast end of Brooklyn, a working-class neighborhood called Marine Park. Yards are a frill in Brooklyn, but I was fortunate enough to have one, including a cramped slab of cement that served as a basketball court. It was there that I fell in love with the game. When my sister died abruptly and unexpectedly at 10 years old -- I was nine -- basketball became my outlet. My coping mechanism. My escape. Through the game, I met most of my lifelong friends, carved out an off-the-court career, and indirectly met my wife. But, it all starts in that backyard. Chain net, lowered rim, Nike hightops. And doing my best Harold Miner impression after he snatched the '93 Slam Dunk crown. Don't mind the soccer ball. Dr. Naismith used one, too.
Family Provides The First Teammates
I remember it like it was yesterday. Standing at the top of the basement stairs in a huddle with my sister, Lauren, and brother, Evan. We’re wearing breakaway warmup pants we got for Christmas, an assortment of headbands and armbands, and patiently waiting for the show to start. Dad hits play on the boombox and starts flickering the lights as the legendary Chicago Bulls intro song, Sirius, starts to play. Mom puts on her best PA announcer voice...“And now... from Milwaukee, Wisconsin... Number Eleven... Connor... NOOOOOOLTEEEEEEE.”
It's Not About Us
We aren't that interesting, or athletic for that matter, but we do remember some fun experiences through playing sports. Very few of these moments are ESPN highlights (none actually) or even game winning heroics. Most of our memories didn't even happen in an organized setting, but rather with a few friends, or even solo, as we developed the rules on the fly based on the equipment and space available. However, we did learn to compete and have fun, while unbeknownst to us probably learning a few life lessons along the way. Sports has provided countless "Where were you when..." highlights from our...