Basketball humor is not just watching a new player drop the ball

Mattter of fact, that would be kind of mean, wouldn't it? Not really basketball humor at all. But you CAN'T play any kind of ball without stumbling across a GOOD-natured chuckle...or two.

One such came at the same Group Home referenced on the Sports Humor page, but outside rather than inside.

It was still during the summer of 1975, but after Wanda (who handed me such a stinging series of defeats in leg wrestling) had gone on to placement at a long term group home. (Ours was designed for short term evaluation periods, no more.)

One fine sunny day, the teenaged residents we supervised started a pickup basketball game and asked me to join in. Hey. I thought they'd never ask. True, none of them had ever played organized ball, but we DID have enough people for a boys vs. girls game.

IF.

If I played...and if one guy joined the girls' side.

You can see this coming? Figured you could. Yup. It was "me and the girls" against the rest of the guys. Which made a problem... for the guys.

A basketball hoop had been mounted on a four-inch steel pipe set in conrete alongside the driveway, so that's where we played. First team to fifty points won.

The boys' team did NOT win that first game.

Served those young men right, I figured, for refusing to play on a girls' team and then griping about the outcome.

We did have a couple of ringers, naturally: Twin thirteen-year-old redheaded girls from across the street. They AND the other girls LISTENED to me, so we were able to act as a team.

I was the obvious threat, and much of the time, one of the girls could feed me the ball, zip zap, two points. But if I got double or triple teamed, no big--feed the ball to one of the girls, and THEY would put it through the hoop.

Enter Earl.

=================================================================

Big Earl
Copyright 1975 by Fred Baker

I met Earl one sunshine day
While playing basketball
Though just fifteen young years of age
He had no home at all

And though the kids in our Group Home
Could be tempted by him there
He'd hang and watch us shooting baskets
Didn't seem to have a care

Basketball was not his thing
Though he liked to watch us play
We were simply friends
In a subtle sort of way

Later, a kid named Marty cut and ran
At thirteen years that's how he was
Police were looking for him hard
He'd stolen cars much more than once

No one could find that wily lad
Until we got an urgent call
My buddy Earl was on the line
Our boy had found him at the mall

Big Earl was what I called my friend
And big he was, though not in size
Young Marty sought a loaded gun
But Earl just rigged up a surprise

When I walked inside with two police
Marty's shock was fine to see
How could Earl betray him so?
He didn't know 'bout Earl and me

The moral of the story is
Never underestimate a sport
Big Earl had simply watched our basketball
And when time came, made his report

=================================================================

We saw Marty for the last time about three months after that incident. He'd been placed at a Boys' Ranch, caring for some marvelous Clydesdale horses the ranch raised. He was doing well, and he did NOT hold a grudge.

In fact, he had come up with a brief bit of sports humor of his own to describe his capture:

=================================================================

Commentary by Marty, late 1975

Because of a ball
This kid took a fall
By Earl at the mall

=================================================================

Not exactly T.S. Eliot, but it does rather neatly sum up the situation.

Thanks for reading,

Fred

=================================================================

Basketball Humor, Cartoons Home Sports Humor For A FREE Personal Shopping Mall, Click Here!