Why Wondrous Swish?

Pressed to make a collage defining “me,” a school-aged me cut pieces from an awesome photo essay printed in a 1972 issue of Sports Illustrated. The prose that accompanied the images imprinted in my mind as deeply as any lines of poetry learned in my English classes.

“It is enough to gaze on the wondrous sight of a swish, or to dribble down a sidewalk . . . or just to rest after some two-on-two. . . . just lunging for a loose ball can be a marvelous act of desire, done over fallen leaves or on a court cleared of snow or in the summer when the city sizzles. A fast break is a boy's passion, and it is his training for the years ahead.”

Every time I am around my brothers and nephews, we are either playing in or planning the next pickup game. And while I didn’t play high school ball, I have always loved the game. Three times a week, I go down to BYU’s Smith Fieldhouse, lace up some Jordans, and shoot some hoops with accountants, teachers, and other BYU professionals. It keeps me sane. And it’s way cheaper than therapy, even after you figure in the cost of nice kicks. I am a happier human when I can play.

And once upon a time, I even got to justify those hours by writing about it for the magazine. Here’s the link if you’re interested.

LINK

Come to Provo anytime. We’ll work you into the game.

TANGENT 1: Hummingbirds also make a wondrous swish as they swoop and whir around our front yard.

TANGENT 2: A wondrous swish and a wondrous wish are two different things, just barely.