Basketball Widow

The NBA Draft: Do You Really Have to be 6' 11"?

June 26, 2008 9:51 AM | 0 Comments

This morning my 10-year-old son Austin woke up with a new obsession. After performing quite satisfactorily in a Little League Baseball District game last night (particularly in light of the fact that he was recovering from a nasty flu), for some reason he was seized with anxiety over his future as a professional basketball player.

Austin asked: "Do you think I'll reach 6' 11"?

What am I, some height forecaster? I replied: "I don't know; you've always been in the 100th percentile for height, weight and head measurements. (Believe me, when you're giving birth the latter data is all that matters, and if I could do it all over again, my ideal husband would have a pinhead.) Your father is 6' 3", so I'm putting my money on 6' 6" at least."

This was not encouraging to Austin. "But that's not 6' 11"; I'll never be able to play Center or Forward, he said, collapsing on the stair landing." Since it was breakfast time, his thoughts naturally turned toward nutrition. "Are there any foods I should be eating that will make me taller?"

I replied, not being a nutritionist, "How about milk, fruits and vegetables? Those should do the trick. Anyway, what's wrong with being a Point Guard? That's what Michael Jordan was, and he wasn't 6' 11". I have know idea what a Point Guard does, but I always like to bring up Michael Jordan because I have a ring of authority. Everyone knows that M.J. and I were classmates at the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill, and that we shared a Jazz Appreciation class. The fact that he wouldn't know me if he trampled me on the basketball court is insignificant. In my dreams, delusions if you will, I am convinced that Michael Jordan tells people he shared a Jazz Appreciation class with Nan Smith (maiden name) Hall, but even I know this is C-R-A-Z-Y T-A-L-K. At minimum, M.J. has fond memories of me when he listens to his Smithsonian Collection of Classic Jazz.

So, I don't know about Austin's final height or his future as an NBA player, but I think I'll go listen to Coleman Hawkin's rendition of Body & Soul and daydream about the day I challenge M.J. to a game of H.O.R.S.E. Just don't wake me up.

Do your children have any sports obsessions right now?
The Sports Widow
(aka Nan Hall)