SuperNova Afterglow: End Of Days

Shooting Percentage

I was looking up rookie NBA player stats tonight and noticed the low shooting percentage of these phenoms coming out of college. It made me think about how rookies always have that first season with unusually low shooting percentage compared with the rest of their career. What is this statistical anomaly I wondered before it hit me. No one sets them screens and runs plays for them. They have to work for their own shots, for the most part.

It's percentages. So, it doesn't mean the team doesn't try to run the offense through them sometimes. Just not as often as a 'seasoned' veteran.

I think about my own struggles some days at the Y. No one gets me the ball. At times, I become less focused or interested in the movement of the ball because I'm spending all my time chasing my guy on defense knowing I'm not the first, second or third option on offense. In fact, I'm not an option at all some days and it is a bit mentally draining.

I could be wide open on the wing, ready to facilitate the offense and a ball handler sees me. You can tell he considered it, but looks the other way. I'm standing there all alone with my hands out, ready to swing the ball around the perimeter, or find a shot. Whatever reason, they don't trust. Maybe I made an error in judgment in a previous play. It's more about what you've done lately and not that they know you're capable. That pass seems to go to someone double-teamed or lobbed somewhere difficult to catch where the recipient can't even move or make a play. I see a lot of turnovers. I don't say anything. I don't want anyone to say anything to me if I make a mistake. But, I would not make the mistake of forcing the ball into difficult situations when I've got a man completely open who has taken it upon himself to walk out onto the court and risk humiliation if he cannot simply receive a ball and properly send it on its way once received.

This gets away from the point I initially make about rookies. But, it reminds me I am like the rookie everyday on the YMCA hardwoods, in a place where I've become known as a somewhat deadly outside threat. People are warned many times not to leave me alone outside. I manage to find my shots most games, but when I'm drawing so much attention, you'd think someone would set me a screen.

I take it as a challenge to find ways to be an effective player on the court. I hustle after loose balls. Try to get my back into my defender when a shot goes up or just crash the boards if I see a lane. It's difficult at times, because of my limited vision. I have to be certain of where I am running, so there are no accidents. I try to work in small spaces, eluding my player as much as I can and hoping I'll be rewarded with a pass. Even if it means I'm not going to get an open shot, you feel like your efforts are rewarded when you can have a few touches. It gets you in a rhythm and helps keep your mind sharp. But, I'm dealing with a lot of guys who only trust a select few on the court, most days. But when they trust me, good things happen.

If a person hits me with a pass, unhesitatingly, my productive value increases immensely. I'm a better ball handler, decision maker, and shooter once I know that guy looking at me across the court puts his faith in me. I will go to war for players like that. And that's the way it should be. Unfortunately, we don't know each other. We haven't got any game plans. We're just a bunch of guys standing around the perimeter wondering who'll be the first cutter. We can only communicate with a few brief words, gestures, or our eyes if we manage to get on the same page somehow.

There are days when I know my limitations. I don't hit the accelerator right away, but ease into each game gradually giving more until I become dominant by the end of the day. There are just a few days when I walk out there thinking I'm going to slay every dragon they put before me. Some of those days are killed by someone who won't share the ball. And because I let them, rather than trying to overcome.

I have gone through a period where I've had to put my emotions aside and limit my passive-aggressive manner toward others who shun me. I realize after the fact that it isn't effective, nor does it do my soul any good. I feel foolish afterward. Can I help it if I am passionate? Actually, I can. Because, by limiting my verbal reactions when things transpire on the court, I am able to tell myself to go out there and prove them wrong. I remind myself that we all make mistakes, have bad plays and we don't need to judge ourselves based on the remarks or actions of others.

So, today, for instance, I made a few mistakes early and got on a team with one guy who likes to dominate the ball. And if you cut to the basket and he can't get off a shot while he's driving, he'll dump it on you. You just have to be ready for a difficult pass, which isn't good for someone with tunnel vision and loses depth perception the closer he gets to an object because of the blind spots in my vision. I find myself stepping back and roaming around the perimeter and becoming a ghost on offense.

But, teams change. And, by the end of the day, I was making plays and flying all over the court. Partly, because I conserved so much energy and partly because I was playing with different guys who didn't want to score the ball in every situation and gave me a look when my guy kept doubling down after I wasn't getting many looks. Some three-pointers went down. I got some significant possessions and helped my team on offense. And then with one basket needed to win, I followed my old buddy Mike down the court. He had one guy on him and nobody was chasing after me yet. He knew what to do and dropped the ball behind his back to me. Using him as a screen against he's own guy, i perfectly swished a three-pointer (even though we only needed a two) to finish the game and day on a satisfying note.

It's not always going to go your way. You are going to feel like a rookie most days in that gym and feeling like you don't have a friend in the world. But sticking with it, you get your moments to shine, if you are good enough and persistent enough to have faith in yourself. Putting stock in what you know you are capable of doing without relying on the assuage of others can make you feel like a man, even for one such us I at fifty who's trying to find some self-esteem that was stripped away like layers as a youth.

If you can command a little respect for what you do, those picks and plays will come for you. And if you are prepared and believe in yourself, it's possible to make something happen that will reward your efforts. There are guys on that floor much worse than me, less in shape than I am. I don't have to get down in the mouth, just because no one will make use of my talents.

I do try to find myself on teams where I know there is one person who will support me, throw me the ball and offer some encouraging words. They will tell me good shot, even after I miss because they know I can make that three-pointer. But as I write this now, I realize that is not good enough for me. I have to do more than be that guy standing around the perimeter. I want to be in the best possible shape, so I can lay leather/rubber to pine and do something to make myself shine like I did when I was younger.

I am an effective passer and can set people up for easy score. Especially, given that, I am feared as a shooter and can get a defender to over commit so I can use their moment away from the basket to propel me further towards my goal.

Yeah, that's good. Sorry rookies. In another year, especially those who were drafted high, you'll get the attention of your coaches and players as your shooting percentages marginally go up. For me, it's day to day, depending on who I am playing with and how I can best be utilized before I know if I'll be able to make the best of my opportunities. I'm definitely at a disadvantage, because I do not command respect day in and day out.