Like so much in life, I started with good intentions.
I’d planned (if that’s the right word) to throw a basketball hoop from a line, the regulation 15’ away from the hoop, 26 times and to time how long this took me. And do this for 26 days with the intention to shorten that time on a daily basis.
The first challenge was to find a basketball hoop and fortunately for me, our new neighbours had one stuck on the side of the kitchen wall, facing their driveway the width of which is about 18’. They willingly agreed for me to use the hoop – probably because they’re away for much of the day and were probably privately relieved that they weren’t about to witness the bounce bounce pause thwack bounce bounce missed again dammit monologue that was to follow.
So, the first challenge was rapidly met and soon after the challenge of having independent verification was addressed too. Our neighbour, Yvonne, volunteered to adjudicate the challenge and I gratefully accepted her offer.
So, Day One dawned and all seemed straight forward enough. I measure out a throw line 15’ from the hoop (informally known as the ‘Charity Stripe’ I’m reliably informed) with a measuring stick. Yvonne switches on her stopwatch.
I remember the advice from Tahir about how to throw a basketball: BEEF, an acronym for “Balance” (yep, got that); Eyes on the target” (doddle); “Elbows at right angles” (er… what?” “Follow Through” (of course, what else, it’s just like tennis. What could possibly go wrong?)
What could go wrong was of course pretty much everything. Balance isn’t helped by running after a stray ball and then running back to the charity stripe to try again without stopping. The eye on the target is all very well if you completely understand which target it is you’re meant to have your eyes on. The board? The back of the hoop? The front of the hoop? The little logo half way up the board? Placing your elbows at right angles is all very well if you don’t expect to hold the ball in a particularly meaningful way. Follow through leads to a constant arc of optimism turning to disappointment as the ball repeats its trajectory of bounce bounce pause thwack bounce bounce missed again dammit.
After 10 minutes Yvonne is clearly worried about whether or not she has an evening to look forward to. I have some managed to throw 4 balls into the hoop over this time and managed at least ten times more ‘ah, nearly’ moments. It looks like we might both have to stay about another hour or two if I’m to achieve the deceptively bland target of 26 hoops before retiring gracefully with a gin and tonic to assess how long it took me to do it.
After 20 minutes the success rate isn’t much better. A further 4 hoops and a slightly lower proportion of “ah, nearly” moments. A much higher ratio of “WTF is going on?” moments.
It’s at this point that I decide to follow all the best professional sporting advice and to decide to change the rules of the game. Instead of timing how long it will take to throw 26 balls into the hoop, I’ll see how many I can throw in 26 minutes. That way, we can see an end in sight and can thankfully retire to the comfort of a gin and tonic knowing that we shall live to confront another day of BEEF. The following six minutes yielded no more moments of success other than a relief that we could both get back to having a life that evening.
So, the final score on day one is 8 hoops over 26 minutes. It does at least count as a baseline and if and when I get to throwing 26 hoops within the new target of 26 minutes, I will take heart that there has at least been some element of progression: especially if I can achieve it over the next 26 days.
Sport can quickly make a fool of you in a very short space of time and I have a feeling that this won’t the last time I remember that particularly embarrassing lesson.
You can find out why I’m involved in the 2.6 Challenge – and how you can help – here.