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Like many postgrads out there, I am a former college athlete who has all of his best days behind him. As sad as it is, I have finally realized that my competitive basketball days are behind me, and I now have one thing to look forward to… Men’s League.
Men’s League is a funny dynamic. It may be at a local YMCA that hasn’t been cleaned since 1983, or a church gym that is the size of a closet. Either way, you can count on it being 200 degrees with a broken water fountain in the corner everyone is trying to suck dry. Many Men’s League participants use it as a way to get a workout in. You always hear the typical, “This is my one workout a week HAHA”. Yeah, well you need to join a gym too, big fella, because this one game a week thing isn’t doing it for you.
You have the shlubs who are playing because their friend asked them to and said they would buy rounds at the bar afterwards, the old men whose shorts are dangerously close to letting a ballbag fall out at any moment, and the athletes who never played the actual sport that look like baby giraffes running up and down trying to find their bearings realizing why they never played the sport as a kid. Lastly, you see the former athletes who actually did play the sport, stretching and warming up like the game is going to decide the NBA Finals. I fall into the latter category.
Men’s League has become an important part of my life. It gives me something to look forward to when I’m nodding off in a meeting that I should have never been invited to. It let’s me try to relive my glory days beating up on 55-year-old men who can barely fit into a reversible jersey. So what I yelled at the referee? I got fouled and I want to win. Oh, you’re significantly older than me and coughing up dust on the court? Good, give me the ball and get out of the way. Yeah, I’m going to stand my ground and draw some charges, and yes, I will be yelling “AND 1” each time I take it to the rack.
Am I a try-hard when I play? Yeah, probably, and I think that’s my problem. Men’s league means absolutely nothing. It’s not like I’m getting paid to play. I have to actually pay to play. It has no bearing on my life or any one else’s life at all. People try to go and have fun. Win or lose, we’re gonna booze. You get to win a t-shirt that basically says, “You are 23 and beat a bunch of 50-year-olds! How do you feel?”
To be honest, I feel fantastic. That shirt makes it all worth it. All those long days standing at my desk getting the legs ready. All those hours spent watching NBA highlights on YouTube rather than answering emails. All those phone calls I didn’t answer because, well, I just didn’t want to answer them. Do I take Men’s League too seriously? Maybe I do. But what else is there to live for?.
Image via YouTube
Respond
@RPShee
I was thrown out of my slow pitch softball game for arguing balls and strikes this week. I’m glad someone else feels the same way about men’s league as I do.
Been there my friend. There’s nothing more gratifying than taking a strike in slow pitch softball that clearly lands a foot outside, allowing you to subtly (or not so subtly) point at the mark in the dirt. The umpires love that.
No doubt. This was my first, of what I assume will be many, controversies in slow pitch.
If you really want to have some fun with it, make sure to heckle him while in the field. Tell your pitcher that each ball looked like a strike by the way the umps been calling the game, and that you don’t where the zone is anymore.
Umpires love when you yell “good pitch” while the ball is still on the way to the plate. Fool proof way to get the borderline calls.
Not only do I love Men’s league sports for every reason listed above, but it has also given me the privilege of sharing the court and field with my Dad. And as I’m sure any of you who grew up with your Dad as your coach can imagine, it is an incredibly special experience. God bless Men’s leagues.
Brian is a man
I was the stat leader of the last game we had, and you’re damn right I told all my friends and family about it. Mainly because I’ve got nothing else going for me.
I sprained my ankle playing pickup basketball yesterday
i play soccer with 50 year olds somethimes they get pissed because i run too much
In my work league, people have referred to me as Bill Laimbeer-esque. I can only think that is in adoration of my effort and hustle in the low post.