Time to dust off sneakers, play again

For the past 18 summers, there has been one weekend I’ve devoted to spending downtown. The last weekend in June.

Like a lot of you, I haven’t missed a Hoopfest since it started in 1990, though my playing days seemed to be behind me (more on that later).

For some reason, this year’s Hoopfest was filled with more nostalgia than basketball.

Maybe it was because of one player, who shall remain anonymous. I ran across his name last week on the players’ list at www.spokanehoopfest.net and added him to the inventory of people I wanted to watch play.

In the ‘80s, he was not only the neighbor of my best friend but a young man who seemed to live the All-American life: shooting guard on the basketball team, quarterback on the football team, great student, polite, marked for success.

But after his high school days were done, he left the area and headed off to find that success, never to resurface in our life except as the subject of a “whatever-happened-to” question.

Until last week.

So, Saturday morning I headed to his court, making my way through the throngs to get there. Of course I was a little late and the game had already started.

I knew 20 years had passed, so some change was inevitable. I had even performed one of those picture-aging software programs in my head, seemingly giving me some idea of the 2007 variety.

But as I scanned the team, no one fit the now version I had created.

Finally I asked. And was stunned. In a good way. The 2007 edition was exactly what I thought, a successful, articulate, gracious adult with a sense of humor and balance. I learned all this when we talked after he subbed out. Yes, he looked different than I imagined, but the important part, the core, was precisely what I had expected so many years ago.

Which got me to thinking about the parallels with Hoopfest itself.

Seventeen years ago when some 500 people took the courts for the first time downtown, the event was full of promise. It was fun, unique, challenging.

But who could have imagined it would be what it is now?

It is all grown up, and if the picture we have in our head of what it ought to look like doesn’t match the reality, well, too bad. At its core it is still the event it should be.

Is it perfect? No. But it still is the best weekend this city has to offer, the right event for Spokane held at the best time of the year.

Which is why I want to be a participating part of it again. After playing the first dozen or so years – I have the embroidered T-shirt to prove it – my participation has been hit-and-miss since. But no more.

Next year I’m playing.

Before you dial 911 to reserve an ambulance – if you know me, you know with my “build” and my level of fitness it would be a good idea to have one waiting – understand I’m making this declaration now so there is plenty of time to prepare.

I’m going to get ready over the next 51 weeks and I want to bring you along. Between now and then I’m going to check in with you through SportsLink, letting you know what I’m doing to prepare.

A few minutes shooting layups (10 out of 27 isn’t all that bad, is it?), my weight loss (let’s hope), a weekend spent doing visualization exercises (a 13th-place T-shirt, wow), stuff like that.

But I’m going to need your help. Without you looking over my shoulder, pushing me, cajoling, encouraging, I’ll slip back into my sit-in-the-Laz-E-Boy-watching-Weeds lifestyle and June 2008 will be here before I’m ready.

So click in and give me your advice. Let me know the best way to prepare. Keep me focused. Call me an idiot.

Lend me a hand.

And who knows, next Hoopfest someone will walk up to a court and say, “is that really that SportsLink guy? He doesn’t look anything like his picture.”