Shootin' hoops in Prague

A few weekends back I was making my way to the city center. I expected to see the usual: tourists following guides with unopened umbrellas held high in the air, couples sucking face and stag party group members still out from the night before.

But low and behold, I turned the corner to find three full length basketball courts set up, games in full-swing on each. I was tempted to grab a ball and start taking some shots from the field, throwing on a mesh jersey and standing on the sideline, finding out who was in charge of this nothing-short-of-a-miracle event and signing up. But, I let my flip-flops stop me. I had come to the center to shop. Yet just to appease my craving to play, I stood on the sidelines and watched.

Not surprisingly, the courts were full of men… and they were pretty good. Nevertheless, I’d played pick-up games with guys before and I knew that with the right pair of shoes – wait, no excuses here, I can shoot damn well in flip-flops, maybe even heels – I could put up a good fight. But the battle would have to wait. Before the next shot went up, I turned toward Promod and walked in.

I couldn’t seem to get that game out of my head. I had been working so much lately - stuck in an office, at a desk, on a computer – that my limbs and what was left of my muscles were screaming to be put to good use. At dinner with some colleagues one evening, I just let it out.

"I want to play basketball."

"Ok,” Petr said.

"Katka, you look like you play."

"I did,” Katka said, “in high school. That was a long time ago, but it sounds fun. Yeah, I’m in."

"Great! Petr and Katka. Tomas?” I asked.

Tomas G. agreed to play.

I bet Tomas K. plays,” I added. “He’s tall, looks pretty well coordinated.

Tomas K. does play. On Thursday he walked into the office in a Jordan jersey with a ball in hand. Sadly, by 5:30pm, Katka and one of the Tomas’ had bailed. Nevertheless, the three of us remaining left for the courts, shot around, played some one-on-one and ended with a quick game of “around the world."

Though I’m not the best one-on-one opponent – I prefer to make plays and then pass the ball off to a teammate for an assist - all wasn’t lost. I’d picked up a few Czech swear words and shared some of my favorites from America. This sort of thing just comes out on the court sometimes...

Another something athletes seem to all have in common is the after-practice-ritual and it’s not a whole lot different than what we do back home. We were beat and it was getting dark, so we packed up our things, walked to the nearest pub, sat our sweaty selves on a seat and ordered a beer with fried chicken and potatoes… because we had earned it.

Comments

Posted on 9/16/2009 by

Beth Mitchell

How's the beer?

Posted on 9/18/2009 by

Mary Smith

Once Again... "That's my girl!!"

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