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Uncle Swampy's Chicagoland Pick Up Hoops Tour, Volume 2
Uncle Swampy's Chicagoland Pick Up Hoops Tour, Volume 2
Jim Meadows
Published by Swampy Meadows
07-29-2008
Uncle Swampy's Chicagoland Pick Up Hoops Tour, Volume 2

CHICAGO (IL) –- One of the major differences between life in suburban Detroit and my new every-other-week home here in Chicago is commuting. In the D, people drive to work: one man or woman, one car, the way God intended it. In Chi-town, they have got the whole mass transit thing down to an absolute science. Most places in the city, you have your choice between the bus, the El or the METRA train. I take the train every day and let me tell you, that is one smooth operation.

The first thing I had to do was get a replacement for my i-Pod, which Mrs. Swampy provided as an anniversary gift. You gotta have an i-Pod to listen to tunes on the way to the station, as you ride and then for the walk to your destination. It’s a Chicago city ordinance. There is something very Orwellian about a whole bunch of folks disgorging from trains and marching out onto Monroe Street and on to their respective workplaces. I see the same panhandlers working the throng every day, asking for spare change. And yeah, I gave a couple of them some coins. Sue me.

What most people don’t realize is that Detroit (as well as LA) used to have a really good mass transit system, but General Motors bought up the street car companies in both cities and then shut them down. You can look it up. I know LA is trying to build one, but it’s way too late -- they will never be able to duplicate the machine-like precision of the mass transit systems in cities Chicago, New York or Boston.

Speaking of commutes, that was the hardest part about a trip to the court at Foster Beach -- getting there. Driving in rush hour traffic and then trying to find a parking space in the same zip code as the hoops was a pain. There was rain in the forecast, so for tonight’s sampling of the finest in Chicago pick-up hoops, I chose a much closer alternative -– Paschen Playground.

I first spotted the court there when I was cruising my hew neighborhood in Rogers Park. The playground is on the other side of the METRA tracks and when I drove by I noticed there were guys there playing. One shortcoming: there were only two side-by-side baskets, so no full-court runs, which is fine with me, as my game is better suited to half court anyway.

My favorite scene in “White Men Can’t Jump” is when Woody Harrelson comes sauntering onto the playground and in a perfect set-up, Sidney is “forced” to pick him as his playing partner and they proceed to kick butt. I kinda felt like Billy Hoyle when I parked the convertible, grabbed my sneaks, my ball and my Gatorade and walked across the street and onto the court.

We shot around for a while and then decided to play 4-on-4. I was pleased that the only big guy on the premises, J.B., had chosen me for his team. It’s always nice to have a big fella on your squad, especially when they are in short supply. The guys were an interesting group: they looked black, but spoke Spanglish, with a whole lot of ‘mofos’ thrown in there for good measure. It was obvious they didn’t know quite what to make of me, so I passed the ball to J.B. a lot and amazingly enuf, got a ton of rebounds which ricocheted off what were some extremely tight rims. When the other team started double and triple teaming J.B. he started to kick the ball out to me for open jumpers. We went up 7-0 on several J.B. power moves and a coupla threes by yours truly.

My teammates were absolutely lovin’ it –- they started calling me ‘Pops’ which is fine with me. I’ve been called a lot worse. I had been abusing the youngest guy on the opposition and soon they switched a bigger guy onto me. Only problem was he was more concerned with launching threes than playing D, which left me even more wide open. We won 21-5 when I splashed a long three to end it. As I was walking over to the baseline to retrieve my Gatorade, a jogger running down the sidewalk made a point of looking directly at me and saying “nice shot.”

We played 3 more games of 4-on-4 and won 2 of them. I left to a chorus of “See ya, Pops” from the fellas. I think I’ll be heading back there next time I’m in town.

Wednesday Night

Okay, I lied. The weather was perfect and I had another set of basketball clothes, so I might as well put 'em to good use, right?

When I arrived at Paschen Playground a bunch of guys and one girl were shooting 21 on the left hand court and there wasn't anybody on the right side. So, I got loose and warmed up over there. When I heard someone ask what the high was (who had the most points) and the answer was "five" I figured I could jump in. That game of 21 turned out to be a marathon affair, as the tight rims took their toll. One of the guys playing named "Harvey" was a particularly impressive force. He's one of those man-child types: young, ripped and strong as an ox. I had a couple of chances to win it and so did Harvey, but the game went to a heavy-set dude who was deadly from long distance.

We decided to shoot for captains for a game of 4-on-4. I made it and a skinny white dude did, too. I had 1st pick and chose Harvey; then I got the guy who won the game of 21 and finally I chose the girl. When she saw the teams she said "Oh this isn't even going to be close." I replied "let's play the game first, okay?" Turns out the old guy was right for once.

The skinny guy had selected the 2nd tallest fella; a short gunner and another girl, who had been a late addition to the game of 21. They dominated us to the tune of 6-0 before we even touched the ball. Harvey had his hands full, as he might be a man-child, but he was playing against a man and getting beat. He also insisted on taking long fallaway jumpers which the tight rim spat right back. The skinny guy was hitting runners; my man wasn't doing much, but their girl was beating ours pretty handily. Finally, I started having success feeding Harvey in the low post. We all took turns scoring, including some nice cuts for layups by our young lady and we crawled our way back into the contest. We tied it up at 18. Harvey then hit a short shot for a one point lead. I passed the ball into him on the wing and he was immediately two-timed, leaving me wide open at the top of the key. If you've been paying attention, I think you know how this story ends.

The other team tried to claim that my foot was on the 3 point line but we weren't buying it and I headed back to the Elvis Room for a hot shower and a Lean Cuisine.

That’s it “From the Swamp.”
You can email me at: swampy@udpride.com
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  #1  
By Bud Meadows on 08-02-2008, 11:24 PM
Uncle Swampy

JIM:

Make sure to visit with Owen and Nolan- they're your future power forwards
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