The Jet

One of the things J.P. has asked Santa Claus to bring him for Christmas is a new basketball, which brought to mind one of the best Christmas gifts I ever received.  And it was from my mom, of course.

First, a little background.  I played basketball (and other sports) my entire youth.  I played basketball in 8th grade and Northside Junior High School, then made the 9th grade team in the fall of my last year there.  I was one of the 12 best basketball players in the school but, in truth probably not one of the 9 or 10 best players on the team.  I didn't play a lot perhaps because as a back-up point guard, I played behind Clay Whitehurst, who went on to play wide receiver at the University of Alabama.

Much like J.P. today, I was a smart basketball player with good hand-eye coordination but limited athletic ability.  I played hard, was extremely competitive and loved the game.  No quit in me, aggressive and never willing to back down.  Sound like someone?  Yep, J.P.

After I finished at Northside, I matriculated to Franklin High School.  That was the end of my formal basketball career, as there was no way I was going to make the basketball team at Franklin High School.  I didn't have enough game, for sure.

Still, I kept playing basketball in pick-up games wherever and whenever I could get on the court at a gym.  I played church league basketball with friends and, later, when I started my junior year at Brentwood High School, a buddy of mine talked his way into getting the key to the old school gym at Lipscomb Elementary School near our house in Brenthaven.  Eternal thanks to you, Jim Holcomb, wherever you are.  That's another story, but my junior and senior years of high school, my friends and I played a ton of pick-up basketball in that old gym at Lipscomb Elementary School.

For Christmas during my junior year of high school - which would be December 1982 - my mother gave me a Wilson Jet leather basketball.  I don't know where she got it, but it was the same type of basketball used in high school and college basketball games at the time.  Damn, it was a beautiful basketball and my pride and joy.  No more scrambling to find a decent basketball to use during pick-up games.

I cherished that Wilson Jet basketball.  I didn't want to deface it by writing my initials or name on it.  I never, ever dribbled it outside.  It was for indoor, wooden floor use only.  I never let anyone kick it.  And whenever I played in an unfamiliar gym, I watched it like a hawk if was being used - as it often was - in a game I wasn't playing in, when I had "next" and was waiting to play.  When I would walk into a gym - at Lipscomb, the YMCA or on campus at UT in Knoxville, guys always asked to use it in games.  I usually acquiesced but only if I could keep an eye on it.

Man, I dribbled that Wilson Jet basketball in gyms all across middle Tennessee and in the HPER building on campus at UT.  I think we often used in intramural games my freshman year of college, too.  I made a lot of shots, missed a lot of shots and won and lost a lot of games with it.  I can't remember, but I'm guessing someone finally stole it during a pick-up basketball game at UT.

What I do remember, though, is that I always thought of my mom when I played with it.