(But she still doesn't like Paul Pierce.)

My 87-year-old grandmother got me into basketball.  Back when the Lakers were in this year's finals against the Celtics, I happened to be visiting her.  I knew she enjoyed the occasional football game, but I guess I never realized just how avid a sports fan she really was until that night. 

It was the last game and it was one of the most exciting things I've ever seen in my life.  Up until that point, I don't think I had ever seen a full basketball game before, even in school.  My grandmother knew all the players.  She complained about Paul Pierce and the way he always "knows how to get fouls."  Glen Davis was a big baby.  And she thought Pau Gasol deserved MVP over Kobe.  Boy, I learned a lot that night. 

Now, I'm back visiting at her house, and the only thing we could agree to watch was the Bucks vs. the Celtics.  Another nail-biter of a game, it went into overtime that was way past Grandma's bedtime.  She got fed up with 1 minute, 6 seconds left on the clock and went to brush her teeth.  As soon as she walked away, the Buck's Delfino made a 3-point shot.  That gave the Bucks 100 against the Celtics' 101.  Ironically, my grandmother was rooting for the Celtics this time around.  "But, Grandma," I said, "I thought you hated the Celtics. Remember the Lakers championship game?"  She told me she was just going for the underdog.  Wait, the Celtics are the underdog here? 

One minute later they won 105-102.   Aha.  Grandma just likes to back a winner. 

Slam, Dunk, & Hook

Fast breaks. Lay ups. With Mercury's

Insignia on our sneakers,

We outmaneuvered to footwork

Of bad angels. Nothing but a hot

Swish of strings like silk

Ten feet out. In the roundhouse

Labyrinth our bodies

Created, we could almost

Last forever, poised in midair

Like storybook sea monsters.

A high note hung there

A long second. Off

The rim. We'd corkscrew

Up & dunk balls that exploded

The skullcap of hope & good

Intention. Lanky, all hands

& feet...sprung rhythm.

We were metaphysical when girls

Cheered on the sidelines.

Tangled up in a falling,

Muscles were a bright motor

Double-flashing to the metal hoop

Nailed to our oak.

When Sonny Boy's mama died

He played nonstop all day, so hard

Our backboard splintered.

Glistening with sweat,

We rolled the ball off

Our fingertips. Trouble

Was there slapping a blackjack

Against an open palm.

Dribble, drive to the inside,

& glide like a sparrow hawk.

Lay ups. Fast breaks.

we had moves we didn't know

We had. Our bodies spun

On swivels of bone & faith,

Through a lyric slipknot

Of joy, & we knew we were

Beautiful & dangerous.

 

-Yusef Komunyakaa