Mt. Zion athletics has long been known for producing solid, fundamentally sound basketball players. The school often wins the Apollo Conference championship, sometimes quite easily. Many of the athletes have competed and trained for years to compete at the college level.

I was not destined to be one of these athletes, specifically in basketball. In fact, I ended my varsity career scoring more points for my opponent than my own team.

This embarrassing event took place when I was in fourth grade.

Clearly, it was very traumatizing, as I have not forgotten the event at the age of 20.

From fourth to sixth grade or so, our travel basketball team had two teams. There was the “A” team, also known as the black team, because they wore black jerseys, and the “B” team, also known as the red team, wearing the color red.  

I was a veteran starter for the red team, never having been talented enough to shine in the big leagues. 

I did not hate being on the red team, because I knew that I would not get any playing time on the black team. I was perfectly happy being average. I knew that I would be miserable if I even got playing time on the black team, because I could have never kept up with the players of opponents’ “A” teams. 

However, an opportunity came my way when the black team traveled to a tournament and needed players to fill their roster. Although I wasn’t too thrilled about sitting on the bench for an entire tournament, I didn’t have a choice but to go. Who knows, maybe my brother would get playing time and make an impact that I never would.  

The tournament begins. During the first two games, I didn’t see a second of action. I don’t remember if we won the games, because I was not paying attention. I was simply waiting for the day to be over so we could go grab the fast food I was promised before the tournament began. 

The third game rolls around, and our team is down big, leading to me being even more clocked out than before. In hindsight, this was very stupid of me as I would only see the floor if our team was up or down big.  

Eventually, coach motions for me to go into the game. I check to make sure that he isn’t pointing at someone behind me, then I reluctantly take the floor, the start of my “A” team career. 

This is where things went horribly wrong.

This is the single most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me during any sports competition.  

I have false started in track, missed tackles in football, stepped over a base in baseball, but none is more embarrassing than this. 

I go to catch the inbound pass, unsure of what is taking place in the game itself. I take possession of the ball right below the hoop, and I score the basket.  A classic Mike Breen “BANG” call plays on repeat in my head, as I have finally inserted myself into the scoring column. 

“Wow,” I thought to myself. “That was easy. Why was no one guarding me?” 

I was so proud of myself. I had finally scored for the “A” team. I ran back on what I thought was the defensive side of the court only to get benched immediately. 

My coach told me that I scored a basket for the other team. There was nobody guarding me because I was under my team’s basket. If I am completely honest looking back, I am surprised I didn’t blow the layup. That is the only thing that could have made my situation worse. 

I understandably did not play another minute for the rest of the tournament. My only job was to finish out the game without making too many mistakes, and I carried out the single most embarrassing mistake imaginable. 

And that is how my “A” team career ended. I never got promoted again, and I spent the rest of my basketball career trying to recover from the fact that I helped the opposing team more than I ever helped my own team.