Basketball

One day while walking around our technical training site a.k.a Hub site a.k.a school 6, one of our PCVs found a group of kids playing basketball. After talking to them and then their gym teacher or at least some old man with a whistle he was invited to gather some Americans to play basketball with the kids. There wasn’t too much interest but for those of us who were, we immediately began talking trash, thinking of sweet nicknames and trying to get a crowd to come watch…luckily the audience was minimal to witness our dream team get annihilated. It isn’t as bad as it sounds though. We went down to shoot around and there were a bunch of kids messing around so we joined them and were having fun and decided to start a game – this was when the old man with the whistle came out and started yelling at us in Russian (which no one understands so he yells louder and faster). Finally we understand that he doesn’t want us to play with these kids but to wait and play in a few minutes. As more and more taller kids with headbands started entering the gym we start to get it. So there are now five of us playing against a bench-full of Kazakh dudes that the coach/ref is subbing in. Team America is not only out of shape for this full court game, but sadly to say (and in fear of sounding big headed) I was one of our best players – yes me, playing barefoot, and yes me, the same kid who has been cut from every basketball team since 6th grade and in most games didn’t even get to play all 5 of my segments guaranteed to every player in PCJBA Rec-ball. We are scheduled to play with them 3 times a week, but after the second outing the coach started subbing in 9 year olds (not kidding – they informed of that me when I got T’d up for playing street rules with one of those little pre-pubescent punks) so we will see where this goes the next few weeks… and by the way, irregardless of the scoreboard, at the end of the day I can grow a mustache and he cant.