Back when I was a kid, my father had a wonderful basketball goal constructed in our back yard. Those were the days before they sold the now common mass produced basketball goals, with the plastic base you fill with water or sand. This one was the real deal – metal, wood, light pole, cemented in the ground.
No problem with that goal; no, the problem was chubby me.
But that all changed when, each night after supper, I would head out to throw the ball at that basket until time for bed.
Back in those days, when I was in the 5th or 6th grade, I would often stand back as far I could between the goal and our house – probably right about the current 3-point range – and try to make the basket.
I would sweeten the deal by saying something like, “If I hit this shot it means that Miranda Scott likes me …”
I hit it.
Then, to up the ante, I would say something like, “Hit this one and she will marry me.”
Bonk bonk bonk … missed it.
Okay, if I hit this one, she’ll marry me …
Bonk bonk bonk … almost.
And so it would go.
Miranda Scott, not her real name, was the smartest girl in the class and I figured my mom would like that, me hitching up with a smart girl.
There was another girl, I don’t remember how smart she was, but – at least back then, before political correctness – she was what we understood as, forgive me this, ugly.
We’ll call her Mona Pitts.
From time to time, I’d shoot a wildly impossible shot at the basket saying …
The Orthodixie Podcast on Ancient Faith Radio.