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    • Waves of Pain
      • No Respect!
      • Death Wish at Fairy Bower
      • Fried nuts
      • The ocean is a trickster… especially Hawaii’s North Shore – Gas chambers bites the unwary!
      • Titus Kinimaka’s nightmare Christmas
      • Dix dumped – the trials of a self-confessed elite body surfer
      • The little surf that nearly ruined a promising career…
      • Rabbit killer – a master takes a caning at pipeline!
      • Death Wish at Fairy Bower
      • Easternmost memory – surfing in the wild at the end of the continent
      • Nothing ruins a good surf like a couple of blokes with automatic assault rifles…
      • Agony for Miki Dora
      • Smashed at Gas Chambers
      • Who was Europe’s first surfing woman? Introducing the wonderful Witch of Newbury.
      • A bad day at Palmy – surfies and clubbies at war!
      • When being a proven waterman is not enough!
      • The highs and lows of surfing Sunset Beach while competing at the Duke Kahanamoku Invitational
      • An American midnight surf – that goes very wrong!
  • What does it mean?
    • What is a snake?
    • What does “shag” mean?
    • What does “Freddy Jones” mean?
    • What does “hook and ladder” mean?
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  • Philosophers Sport Bar
    • Socrates and Aristotle debate football defence
    • Michel de Montaigne on coaching sports
    • Ancient philosophers discuss what makes the beautiful game beautiful! Laozi and Socrates get technical.

A three-point shot for one million bucks! Easy!

February 22, 2018 By SOCRATES Leave a Comment Filed Under: Ethics and Values, General sporting stories, Stories

There is a gut-wrenching video sequence on the internet of a young bloke taking a three-point shot (during the half-time of a pro basketball game), with a prize of one million dollars at stake.

Mike’s foolproof ritual

In the clip, the kid, Mike, starts off practicing his wrist-snap by flicking the ball into the air precisely four times. Next, deliberately, almost in a trance, he walks slowly down to a spot directly under the net where he stares up at the ring and seems to be visualizing the ball flying through the air and dropping through the hoop. He then goes back to his spot on the three-point line where he stares at the ring some more, then takes two practice shots without the ball. Mike then dribbles the ball exactly four times and, his flawless ritual concluded he, finally, lets fly with his shot.

Mike stares at the ring!

The clip reminds me of a golfing date I once had with my mum when I was about ten years old. As a young pup I was a shit golfer… but, boy, could I putt. I was so good I could teach Jack Nicklaus how to putt. On this day, about a million years ago, I fluked a drive on a short par three to within a foot of the hole. One foot! I was about to get my first birdie! No doubt. I could not possibly miss from a foot. Seriously. I would have been an even money bet to nail a twelve-footer with a blindfold on and standing on one foot, so this pissy little shot was not going to be a bother.

My first birdie!

I got down onto my knees and examined the space between my ball and the hole for any unusual formations or deviations from the line. I strolled past the hole and lined up the shot from behind the pin. I then spent a few moments lining up the putt from behind the ball, as well. I walked back to the ball and set my feet precisely shoulder width apart. I took three practice putts right next to the ball. I addressed the ball with my putter then stared for several seconds at the ball. I then lifted my head slightly and stared at the hole for two seconds. I then returned my gaze to the ball for two more seconds. I then looked back to the hole. Finally, I settled my gaze upon the ball for the last time and stared menacingly at it for a full ten seconds. I took one, two, three deep breaths and as I breathed slowly out on the third breath I slowly and deliberately drew the putter head away from the ball. Carefully keeping my head down and steady I gently stroked the ball.

First birdie coming up. Easy!

So much for ritual

I missed. I three-putted! Not only did I miss the one-foot putt, I missed the next one as well. Instead of nailing my first ever birdie I putted the ball a full foot behind the hole and missed the easy shot for a par coming back. I was so pissed I broke my putter across my knee.

My Mum was not happy at my tantrum. She said, “I’ll never play golf with you again!”

She didn’t. She was true to her promise. And I never played golf again!

Fortunately, I had just discovered basketball and replaced my love for practicing putting with an obsession for practicing free-throw shooting. In my first season of competition basketball I was a completely shit basketballer. I was so bad that I didn’t score a single field goal the whole season. Not even a lay-up. Even so, I was the only player on the team with a 100% record from the free throw line!

Gotta read that green!

Poor Mike, the kid in the video. He concentrated so hard to nail his three and win his one million bucks, but all he got was an air ball. While I don’t know what it feels like to blow a million bucks in a moment I still figure I have some understanding of how he felt at missing the three. Mind you he faced his public humiliation with much more grace than I could have managed.

See Mike’s agonizing time in the limelight below…

 

SOCRATES

Short, fat, slow, uncoordinated and clumsy, ancient Athenian Socrates had very few of the physical quality required of the elite athlete. He did have, on the other hand, a better than average brain between his ears and a mouth that could talk opposing players, referees and coaches half into their graves. Socrates, as a sport analyst, is what the world needs and misses. He is an opinionated so-and-so that actually thinks deeply about sport and adventuring and likes nothing better than provoking others into deep thought. Socrates is the antithesis of the sporting jock or the West Sydney soccer supporter.

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