Seeking Positive Answers: The fun of shootin’ hoops for the first time in my 40s . . . and setting my sights higher

Playing basketball wasn’t something I ever thought would be a part of my life. I’ve always loved the sport. I spent many hours of my childhood watching my brothers play on school teams or in the driveway. There was a time when missing a Sixers game on television simply wasn’t an option in my mind. When I was a teenager, my dad even split season tickets with a bunch of guys for the two of us to go to about seven games a season for a few years.

Rob shooting on the hoop
at 6.5 feet.

I imagine I played on a nerf basketball net longer than anyone. Shooting on my knees in our basement with a nerf ball or a basketball small enough that I could grip it in my right hand brought hours of enjoyment through the years.

But I could never really play the game. Not with a real ball, on a real court, and certainly not on a 10-foot regulation hoop.

On the rare occasion that I actually got to hold a real basketball in my hands, I’d suddenly feel like a weakling. I might be able to dribble it a few times or pass it, with much effort, to someone very close by. But to really handle it, let alone shoot it, felt impossible. It never made much sense to me. People seemed to handle a basketball so effortlessly. Sure, I’m not very big, including my hands, and my cerebral palsy complicates everything. But it seemed strange to have so little ability to play with an actual basketball.

Yet, several years ago, when I noticed the Y that I workout at had a couple basketball nets that were much lower than the regulation 10-foot rims, I instantly wanted to try them out. Eventually, I went to the Y in my manual wheelchair to shoot baskets on a 6-foot hoop that was meant for kids.

I think I made one basket that day. I was terrible. Instead of shooting, I felt like I was heaving the ball just to get it near the rim.

And I loved every minute of it. Wednesdays became my day to shoot.

Simply moving around on a court, I felt like a kid having fun. It was almost like recapturing something CP had taken from me. Those who love the game know how easy it is to get lost in shooting hoops. I could miss 10 in a row, and all I wanted to do was make the next shot. The sound of the ball swishing through the cotton of the net is the sweetest music on any court.

Unfortunately, the fun only lasted about six months. I was also playing power wheelchair hockey at the time and developed bursitis in my left shoulder. Driving the wheelchair with right-handed controls with my more spastic left hand (leaving my right to use the stick) created the problem. The shoulder just wouldn’t heal, and I shut down everything in an effort to let it recover.

Fast-forward to a year ago December. After trying several other remedies for my bursitis with varying degrees of success, I began working with a wellness coach at the Y to try to finally get the soreness out of my shoulder. It didn’t hurt that we had connected on a personal level, and were soon calling each other “big sis’” and “baby bro’,” but that’s another story. She took the time to really watch me do my rehab exercises, offered some adjustments, and showed me some new exercises that I could really do effectively.

Finally, my shoulder was improving. And I couldn’t wait to try hoops again. I got some added motivation after I mentioned my plan to shoot again to my sis’, who instantly challenged me to a shootout someday.

I started shooting last February. I went from hoping to hit one basket and slowly progressed to having a goal of making 30 shots per day. Shooting twice a week became three and, recently, four times a week.

As much as I loved shooting on the 6-foot high rim on my own, I really wanted to be able to play, even just shoot around, with others. My big sis’ followed through on shooting with me, and we play together whenever we get the chance. But I want to be able to shoot around with her and have it be fun for both of us. (She’d say it’s fun now, and I believe her, but I also know her incredible patience comes into play, as it does with much of what we do together.) I also want to play with my brothers, nephews, and nieces. And I don’t want to have to haul everyone to the Y to play on the net that just happens to be available. I slowly realized that I needed to set my sights higher.

To be precise, I needed to set my sights four feet higher. And that became a whole new challenge.

PART II

After seven months of shooting baskets on a 6-foot high rim, I set my sights higher—four feet higher to the regular hoops.

I love the fact that I’m shooting baskets, really shooting baskets, for the first time in my life. So many things have gone into trying to shoot better. I’m learning what muscles are involved, and my sister is constantly teaching me how to train them better. I’m learning how to use my body more effectively to take a shot. I’ve learned to control the ball better than I ever have. And the motivation to workout is as high as ever.

I’ve been asked if my goal is to play wheelchair basketball in a league. That’s really never been part of why I started shooting baskets. Not that I wouldn’t love to be able to be on a team.

I really just wanted to be able to play. I want to be able to shoot around with my sister and brothers and have it be fun for them too. I want to be able to go to my brother’s house or a playground and shoot on a regular hoop. And shooting on a 10-foot hoop seemed like a great way to challenge myself.

So, last August, I started shooting at the regulation basket. I could barely touch the netting, but I figured it would only be a matter of time before I could make a basket. Then a week went by. And another week. Then a couple more. And I hadn’t sniffed a hoop.

Those 4 feet felt like about 40.

I went back to the 6-foot hoop. I hadn’t given up, but I knew I needed to get stronger. And as much as I love shooting, never making a hoop was discouraging—to put it politely.

I was still getting stronger, and along the way I would occasionally test myself by trying to put the ball as high off the backboard on the 6-foot hoop as I could. But I really didn’t know if shooting on the 10-foot rim was ever going to happen. I’d take a few minutes at the end of each session to shoot at the regulation hoop, and I really wasn’t progressing.

After about a month, one of the guys who works at the Y came over and said, “This is getting too easy for you.” Then he moved the net up 6 inches!

I didn’t even know the hoop was adjustable. The path to 10-feet seemed to have appeared out of nowhere!

With a reachable target, the help of the two guys working in the basketball court area adjusting the net, and some more coaching from my big sis’, I progressed pretty quickly to shooting at an 8-foot rim. That was definitely my sticking point. But I kept shooting at the 10-foot rim for a few minutes each day. I could soon hit the yellow padding under the backboard somewhat regularly. Eventually, I hit the rim.

Just after the holidays, the guys put the rim a peg higher by mistake, but I went with it. I could only put a couple shots in that day, but I was suddenly only a foot-and-a-half shy of my new goal—a made basket on the regulation net. I started shooting more at the 10-foot hoop. I started hitting the rim multiple times.

Three weeks and a day later, warming up on a day when I was meeting my sister to shoot, it happened! Finally! From the right side of the net on a Wednesday morning at the Y, I put a basketball through the regulation hoop.

I flung my arms into the air, yelled a joyous, “Yes!” and looked around, and . . . nobody cared.

It was one of the more anti-climactic moments of my life. Kind of funny, actually. I’m sure some of the people shooting that day thought I was a little wacky. But I didn’t care. My sis’ got there about three minutes later, and we high-fived. Then we played hoops until she had to go to work, which was the best part of the day, anyway.

I don’t write this post to brag. Obviously, there’s nothing to brag about. My biggest hope in writing about some of my efforts in athletics is to encourage young people with disabilities who slip through the cracks of adaptive sports programs to be more active.

If anyone had told me when I was in school that I’d be in my 40s spending most of my middays at the Y working out and shooting hoops, I probably would have been ready to fight them. This is not the life I had planned. But, I guess, I’ve learned to try to take the positives in life and go with it. No doubt, it’s still a work in progress. But, for now, I’m enjoying my opportunity to play some basketball and to improve my physical abilities.

Playing also reminds me of my goal to build a rec center for people with disabilities. I got lucky in my mid-40s to find a way to shoot baskets. I get the fun and exercise from a game millions of people enjoy playing. Yet, without my sister and the guys at the Y, it probably never happens for me. People with disabilities deserve the same chance.

The Saturday after I made my first basket, I went to see if the courts were full after my workout. They were filled with teenagers and adults, so I steered clear knowing I’d kind of be in the way and that I have time to shoot during the week. Before leaving, I watched little kids playing an organized game on the adjustable nets that I use. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have a bunch of people with disabilities who might not fit into a wheelchair league doing the same thing.

And I looked forward to making my next hoop on the regulation basket.