nukm
Dec 25, 2009
Undergraduate / Basketball is not only for killing time - it's part of my life, it's in my blood [6]
Can I get some feedback please? haha
Can I get some feedback please? haha
nukm
Dec 22, 2009
Undergraduate / Basketball is not only for killing time - it's part of my life, it's in my blood [6]
Okay, so I rewrote it and went through a couple of drafts with my sister.
Some moments in life, I can memorize by heart-that is, some things I can remember with such brilliant clarity that it repeats and replicates ceaselessly, and naturally. Such moments are precious not because they occur only rarely once in an eternity, but because they can be always be revived time and again with surprising precision and authenticity: his hand is obstructing my vision, but I can still make out my other teammates moving into space. I look up ever so briefly, making sharp eye contact. I feign a hard jab step to the left, creating ample space between my defender and I. I pull back, luring my opponent back towards me. As he lunges forward, I do a firm crossover over his dominant leg and ease past him. I release the ball from my hands, as I watch it bounce gracefully off the backboard and into the rim.
Basketball was something I had unknowingly only wandered into. Much like how one would accidentally come across a hidden treasure, or talent, I wandered into this sport uncertain of what I would find, exactly. It was on an especially hot day-one that was almost unbearable and threatened to scorch the world on fire-when an acquaintance, our of courtesy, asked me to play: "hey, come shoot some hoops with us, it'll be good." At the time, I was hesitant as I was doubtful about my ability to shoot and dribble a basketball. But as I walked onto the court and watched the players move as the game unfolded, it was as if a whole new lifestyle was unveiled before my very eyes. Almost instantly, I was besieged by undiscovered infatuation. As I looked over to the distant players overhead, I felt a certain drive that propelled them onwards; there was a possessive impetus that moved them to play like they did under such feverish temperature. They were not playing for a trophy, nor were they professionals, but they had heart and will. I wanted to achieve that-the power of knowing exactly what you want, even on a blistering Saturday afternoon.
When I started to play, I played by the moments I remembered. I remember the familiar grasp of the ball in my hand-its curvature sucked into the round of my damp palm; the occasional relieving breeze against my cheeks on summer days; the glaring sun penetrating my scalp; sweat trickling down from my eyelids as I drank out of the water dispenser. Basketball was a fundamental pursuit, one that was taken with utmost sincerity. We played between classes, after the last bell sounded on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and on Saturday afternoons, after brunch in the dining hall. We were having the time of our lives, doing something we all knew and loved. It wasn't only and all about the moments or the drive though, as I realized I learned a surprising amount from the game itself, including the distinctive lessons of creating and maintaining bonds, cooperation and self-possession.
The thing about basketball that never ceased to affect me was the overwhelming sense of drive and power. There was a great purpose in walking onto the court, and motivation in every step and move of the game. Half a year before I started to play, I was a transitioning student from Hong Kong to Sydney, Australia. In the course of change, I was displaced and defeated in that I wasn't driven in any kind of direction-still wandering, and disoriented in all that was foreign to me. I found motivation for myself in basketball that had been lacking since I'd moved away from home. It became something I was familiar with-something that was home to me.
Is this better?
Okay, so I rewrote it and went through a couple of drafts with my sister.
Some moments in life, I can memorize by heart-that is, some things I can remember with such brilliant clarity that it repeats and replicates ceaselessly, and naturally. Such moments are precious not because they occur only rarely once in an eternity, but because they can be always be revived time and again with surprising precision and authenticity: his hand is obstructing my vision, but I can still make out my other teammates moving into space. I look up ever so briefly, making sharp eye contact. I feign a hard jab step to the left, creating ample space between my defender and I. I pull back, luring my opponent back towards me. As he lunges forward, I do a firm crossover over his dominant leg and ease past him. I release the ball from my hands, as I watch it bounce gracefully off the backboard and into the rim.
Basketball was something I had unknowingly only wandered into. Much like how one would accidentally come across a hidden treasure, or talent, I wandered into this sport uncertain of what I would find, exactly. It was on an especially hot day-one that was almost unbearable and threatened to scorch the world on fire-when an acquaintance, our of courtesy, asked me to play: "hey, come shoot some hoops with us, it'll be good." At the time, I was hesitant as I was doubtful about my ability to shoot and dribble a basketball. But as I walked onto the court and watched the players move as the game unfolded, it was as if a whole new lifestyle was unveiled before my very eyes. Almost instantly, I was besieged by undiscovered infatuation. As I looked over to the distant players overhead, I felt a certain drive that propelled them onwards; there was a possessive impetus that moved them to play like they did under such feverish temperature. They were not playing for a trophy, nor were they professionals, but they had heart and will. I wanted to achieve that-the power of knowing exactly what you want, even on a blistering Saturday afternoon.
When I started to play, I played by the moments I remembered. I remember the familiar grasp of the ball in my hand-its curvature sucked into the round of my damp palm; the occasional relieving breeze against my cheeks on summer days; the glaring sun penetrating my scalp; sweat trickling down from my eyelids as I drank out of the water dispenser. Basketball was a fundamental pursuit, one that was taken with utmost sincerity. We played between classes, after the last bell sounded on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and on Saturday afternoons, after brunch in the dining hall. We were having the time of our lives, doing something we all knew and loved. It wasn't only and all about the moments or the drive though, as I realized I learned a surprising amount from the game itself, including the distinctive lessons of creating and maintaining bonds, cooperation and self-possession.
The thing about basketball that never ceased to affect me was the overwhelming sense of drive and power. There was a great purpose in walking onto the court, and motivation in every step and move of the game. Half a year before I started to play, I was a transitioning student from Hong Kong to Sydney, Australia. In the course of change, I was displaced and defeated in that I wasn't driven in any kind of direction-still wandering, and disoriented in all that was foreign to me. I found motivation for myself in basketball that had been lacking since I'd moved away from home. It became something I was familiar with-something that was home to me.
Is this better?
nukm
Dec 13, 2009
Undergraduate / Basketball is not only for killing time - it's part of my life, it's in my blood [6]
Most people have a hobby or pastime. For many, it's nothing more than an enjoyable way to kill time. But for me, it was much more than that. My pastime was an integral part of my life, something that will forever be in my blood.
'Hey, come shoot some hoops with us, it'll be good." In that exact moment, I was hesitant as I was doubtful about my ability to shoot and dribble a basketball. But as I walked onto the court, I knew this was going to be the beginning of something...extraordinary. It was as if a whole new lifestyle was unveiled before my very eyes; and almost instantly, I besieged by undiscovered infatuation. As I looked over to the distant players overhead, I felt a piece of their emotion. The heart and drive put into the game, and the contentment they encompassed. I wanted to achieve that; that everlasting longing when you know exactly what you want.
Hereafter, basketball quickly ...
Please comment :S How can I make this better? (less awkward)
Most people have a hobby or pastime. For many, it's nothing more than an enjoyable way to kill time. But for me, it was much more than that. My pastime was an integral part of my life, something that will forever be in my blood.
'Hey, come shoot some hoops with us, it'll be good." In that exact moment, I was hesitant as I was doubtful about my ability to shoot and dribble a basketball. But as I walked onto the court, I knew this was going to be the beginning of something...extraordinary. It was as if a whole new lifestyle was unveiled before my very eyes; and almost instantly, I besieged by undiscovered infatuation. As I looked over to the distant players overhead, I felt a piece of their emotion. The heart and drive put into the game, and the contentment they encompassed. I wanted to achieve that; that everlasting longing when you know exactly what you want.
Hereafter, basketball quickly ...
Please comment :S How can I make this better? (less awkward)