It was in the basement
The place where greatness is made
Or where kids go to play games
And tell their parents their avatar is running
So it counts as exercise.
But it was the basement of a holy place.
Although something unholy was about to take place.

One of the kids challenged me to one-on-one.
It was like King of the Hill.
Except I was not King
This was not a Hill
But we had a basketball hoop.
And I accepted the challenge.
He went left.
I was still there.
He went right.
I was the shadow that refused to leave him.
He took a step forward
I took two steps to cut him off.
Then we looked at each other.
I was looking into what I never was
Speed I never had.
Dribble I never wanted.
Shot I never claimed.
He was viewing with horror at what he would inevitably be.
Defense he would need to have.
Basketball I.Q he would need to fall back on.
A mouth full of outdated punchlines he would still laugh at.
Older folk trying to prove that he could hang with the youth.
He jumped.
And I readied myself
And jumped as high as I could.
Almost as high as I did in my youth
I can’t remember jumping this high.
This height is uncomfortable.
But if I could time it right.

I got my hand on the ball.
Silly youth, showing the ball early.
But we bumped into each other.
And I started to go down.
Mount Olympus has been overthrown.
Asgard has been overwhelmed.
There is no wall for Humpty-Dumpty to fall off of.
Because the King himself has tumbled from the hill.
I came down and the ball flew over my hand.
But he came down on two feet.
Stunned.
This was not the last time he would be blocked
But this was the last time I was blocking him.
I decided to retire right there.
Next time we play ball we can shoot basketballs into undersized hoops.
Because I am sure my shot is still there.
While his is yet to be developed.
And I don’t have to worry about being put on my backside.