I'll Still Hoop Your Mom Up

After conclusive evidence, I have decided that challenging a female NCAA basketball player to a game of one-on-one is not the best way to earn a certified man-card.

Especially if you lose and then create elaborate explanations as to why it was nearly impossible to slide a slice of pizza under your sneakers as you hop shamefully for a rebound.

I found myself blaming my inability to hoop it up and cut across the court with the speed of a puma on anything from a loose shoestring or a missing contact lens (I don’t wear contacts) to the fact that we were playing with a girl’s basketball. I even blamed my sluggishness on the fact that my recent breakup with my girlfriend was emotionally heavy.

I might as well have entered a cookie-baking contest and followed suit with an extensive Lifetime channel movie marathon, complete with knitting, gossip and romantic novel reading club discussions.

As you can imagine, it’s the perfect way to exhaust and destroy any unbridled level of ape swinging bravado or machismo you may have. Why you ask?

Let me refer you to a little (BIG) event circa 1973, the Battle of the Sexes tennis match, between Bobby Riggs and Billie Jean King. For all intents and purposes, Bobby Rigg’s career was remembered mostly for his loss to the great Billie Jean King.

I left my legacy on the basketball court, enduring not only one, but two convincing defeats. I had no idea that I was getting myself into a lose-lose situation. If I win, great, I’m expected to win, if I lose, I deserve to retire any inclinations I may once have had to watch the Godfather or eat 16 oz. steaks.

To recap the game is somewhat painful, however, I must add that Katelyn Benz (Washington State University) was one of the nation’s best basketball players and she stands at a modest 6 feet.

Once the game got underway she jumped out to a quick 7-2 lead, and I began to panic. So I considered flopping, calling fouls if she breathed too heavily on me and/or I considered throwing jokes around to make the game appear more casual, as if I weren’t really playing hard. Truth be told, I was in “Rocky” mode and could only hear the “Eye of the Tiger” theme music in my head.

She posted me up and it was turnaround jumper after the other. I think she even yawned at one point and asked if I could touch the net. That game ended with me pointing to my ankle and the blister that threw the game for me, so we played again.

And though the second game had her winning 12-11, it was even more painful because it proved that the first game was no fluke. There was nothing I could do. And when things did go my way and I blocked her shot really hard, I felt really out of line for my obnoxious Mutumbo-like swat (but it sort of felt good).

I could have asked for a third match, but I feel like I would have entertained a perilous voyage into shame that would have proved to be minimally satisfying since she was losing interest in the challenge of playing me.

I thank the hardwood heavens that only a handful of people were witnesses to my crushing defeats.

There was an important lesson learned here though. I used to scoff at women’s basketball because I’m not a fan of jaw dropping lay-ups or bounce passes, but co-ed sports will never be looked at with the same futility and casualness as before.

Remember guys, if you don’t play hard, you’ll lose, regardless of gender, and I’m empirical evidence of that.

Now I must go redeem my man-card by absorbing countless punches to the midsection from Chuck Norris while reciting every line to the Godfather as I aggressively box out any motion to ask her for a rematch.