Last year I went to a Phoenix Mercury game, which I hella enjoyed, and as a result I am on their email list. I get notices of upcoming games and offers to purchase tickets.
In March I got an invite to tryout for the team's Male Practice Squad. I assume this was a mass email, spam if you will, because the Mercury have no idea of my basketball prowess or my lack of hoops talent.
I've played basketball in organized leagues. A younger DPC, 13ish, played in the Rincon Valley Christian Church League for a season and was the seventh option on a nine-man roster. I had flashes of glory but those moments have been lost to time.
After one-season of church league I continued to play pick up games at Rincon Valley Junior High. I considered myself a
Pistol Pete clone but I didn't survive the first round of cuts from the
RVJH basketball squad in 9th grade.
In my early 20's my friends and I started a rec league basketball team. Shaft won a single game its first season and peaked 4-7 by the second season. After three-seasons we disbanded and I retired. I'd like to say I matured as player during the Shaft era but I sort of evolved.
I limited my behind the back passes to a couple per game and essentially evolved into Steve Kerr. A Steve Kerr that smoked two packs of Winston Lights per day and never practiced. My highest offensive output was nine-points and that explosion included my Sky Hook. Every short guard needs a Sky Hook and to chain smoke before a game.
After Shaft I rarely, if ever, played basketball but with a 16-year hiatus I was well rested.
Despite being out of shape and out of practice I was definitely going to the Mercury Male Practice Squad tryouts. It was on my 38th birthday. You got a free T-shirt for going and it would make an interesting anecdote or blog post. Within reason, I'll do most things for a free shirt. Hence my disjointed fashion sense.
On Saturday morning I cruised to Talking Stick Arena, home of your Phoenix Suns, Phoenix Mercury and Arizona Rattlers. I parked behind the arena where I noticed a line of folks congregating and made my way to the line. Like any moderately competitive guy, I sized up the competition and realized I may not be the worst player around, which was my main goal. I knew going in that I would not be the best player there, nor make the practice squad, but by the same token I didn't want to the worst player there. By my early stereotype of my brethren, I was at the bottom of the heap but not the lowest of the lousy lot.
Eventually a team rep came to the back door and made us form a line. We checked in and were given our free shirt, with a number on the back and I was 14. A positive number for baseball, Pete Rose and Ernie Banks, off hand I couldn't think of any basketball jerseys with the number 14. (Some later research determined that Bob Cousy and Jeff Hornacek wore 14 but I had no idea at the time).
After given out shirts and signing waivers we made our way to the practice court. I was hoping the tryouts would be held on the Mercury/Suns court, it would enhance my anecdote of being cut by a pro basketball team, but like usual my dreams were squashed.
I took off my glasses, I have 20-150 eyesight and can't see clearly 5-feet past my nose, and made my way to the court to get warmed up with 75 other folks. Poor eyesight, lack of talent and being out of shape is a nasty combination for anyone looking to excel at basketball or any endeavor for that matter and I generally looked terrible trying to hit a 10-foot jumper. No airballs but a of iron unkind.
After 10-15 minutes of warm ups an assistant coach huddled us up and gave a short speech on the practice squad role. I was too tired to pay attention, pathetically I was gassed after shooting jumpers.
We ran the three man weave initially and I was nervous. Simply put I didn't look like a punk during my time on court plus I forgot how to run the drill. After watching ten-teams run it I remembered my positioning and made the lay up. It was the last shot I made that morning.
After the three man weave we were broken up into six man squads and were given five-minutes of scrimmage I came off the bench and attempted to do my best Vinnie Johnson impersonation but time and talent were against me. My teammates were cool and let me shoot once but a 20-footer from the top of the key was wide left but grazed the rim. Knowing that poor eyesight would limit my offensive skills I focused on
defense and hustle and in the process of attempting to knock down a pass I wrenched my left knee.
I pointed to our bench and signaled that I needed a sub and ambled off the court. In the back of my head I knew my career was done, so I grabbed my stuff and made my way out of the gym and to the car. One swollen knee for one shirt.
Marty Robbins: Yes, that Marty Robbins the country singer who came across some romantic issues in El Paso was also an occasional NASCAR driver.
Bowman replaced Dale Earnhardt Jr., due to Jr's concussion issues, at New Hampshire this month. Bowman got a DNF but just being selected was a honor and shows the regard that Rick Hendrick holds Bowman in.
