After two and a half years in college, I’m finally a D1 Baller. No more intramurals at Yates Field House for me, I’m a real athlete now. Well, sort of. College basketball at the University College Dublin is a little different from in the States. But college ball is college ball, and over here I’m a superstar.
I was your slightly above average baller at Yates. I played and captained a solid intramural team, but a few broken ankles kept me on the sidelines. I was born with the ankles of a 65-year-old woman, but I’ve persevered. And in 14 years of playing ball I’ve learned the fundamentals, which gives me a big advantage over the most Irish players. It also helps that I’m half Asian, i.e. I got quicks.
The average height of the University College Dublin basketball squad is about 6-4. They’re too tall for rugby, too slow for soccer and too uncoordinated for darts. But they’re ballers, and they’re proud of it.
There’s my man Hutch, who loves to shoot the 3-ball and swears by his pre-game ritual of chain-smoking three cigarettes.
There’s Padraig, the golden child. As a first-year, he’s got the potential to move on to more competitive ball if he stops playing video games all the time.
Our center is the 6-6 Bren, who got suspended for five games for punching an opponent in the face. In his first game back, he broke a guy’s nose within minutes. That kid has got a lot of heart, and I’m glad he’s on my side.
Then we’ve got our captain, Shane. His pre-game speeches are an inspiration to us all: “Okay guys, we’re gonna go out there and see what happens today!”
And finally there’s Warren, the angry American, who doesn’t appreciate my presence on the team one bit. He’s been over here for the entire school year and has solidified his spot as starting point guard. He’s made sure to remind me of this with the three or four bloody lips I’ve received while guarding him in practice.
We’re on a bit of a losing streak, having let our last three games slip away by 40 points or more. But the game is played a lot differently over here. If you want to get a foul call you better be bleeding or curled up on the ground in the fetal position. They never call charges, as I learned in my first game when I was mowed over by a 250-pound wall of man-flesh, and was still called for the foul.
Our games get cancelled more often than Allen Iverson appearances at Georgetown. A couple of times I’ve been walking out the door when I’ve gotten the call: “Game’s cancelled, lets grab a pint.” Those were just the times they called me. Other times I just assumed the game was cancelled when I was the only person at the gym.
It’s all a part of the Irish lifestyle that I’ve become accustomed to. Where else would you find a pub located next door to the basketball court? Where else would you find a coach who goes away every other weekend and puts the team in charge? Where else would you find a team who enjoys the pure fun of the sport? And where else would you find a D1 baller from Georgetown University playing good basketball?
So while I’m aware that it’s a stretch to proclaim myself a D1-caliber baller, I’m going to milk this for as long as I can. I’m going for the full on big-baller bling-blingin’, big pimpin’ lifestyle. I’ve already gone out and bought the velour jumpsuit. I’ve got an entourage that’s four deep, the iced-out hotness is flowing from my wrists and the ladies are starting to take notice. If you thought Georgetown ballers lived the life, you ain’t seen nothing yet.
