He smiles when he gets on the court, the administrative worries of the day replaced by the need to stretch out muscles tense from hours sitting at a desk and endless committee meetings.
"You're too tight Lee, you're wound up like a spring," a fellow player who comes over to help him stretch his 6-foot-3 frame says.
Here the rhythmic clicking of computer keys in his Parkhurst office is replaced by the high-pitched squeaking of sneakers and the discordant clang of basketballs hitting the rim.
The other players know him simply as "Lee," and he looks more comfortable in his green tank-top and blue gym shorts than in his suit and tie.
As the minutes tick by, the administrative troubles melt away, replaced by the quizzical frown of a man who cannot determine why his shots are not falling today.
Dean of the College Lee Pelton looks at home.
The former high school basketball player says he tries to hit the hardwood at least two or three times a week. It shows during warm-ups, as his shot manages to find the basket more often than not.
He is obviously off his game today and as his missed shots continue to pile up, his smile fades - but only a little.
"The key is not to take yourself too seriously and try to have fun," Pelton says after he is done playing. "That's not always too easy to do because you get caught up in the emotion or you may have had a bad day at the office."
He starts off in a five-on-five game. The players are a mix of local men, faculty and administrators. No last names are used. "It's funny with pickup basketball," Pelton said.
"You develop these relationships that are quite close, but I suspect we really know very little about each other and our private lives."
"We talk about everything from sports to politics, but we don't talk about our private lives - ever," he says while watching the game in front of him.
Obviously it takes more than a title to impress his teammates - when Pelton fires a no-look, over-the-shoulder pass that is nowhere close to his teammates and ends up banging off the back wall, he draws glares from some teammates.
It takes him four shots before he scores in the game.
He starts the game quietly and becomes progressively louder as the game goes on - bantering with the other players and talking to himself.
"Glass, glass, glass," he calls out before he tries to bank a shot off the backboard - and misses.
"God damn it," he yells after bricking a shot.
He looks more and more frustrated as the first game goes on. His team ends up losing the game, and he makes only that first shot. He then plays in a three-on-three, half-court game while he waits for another chance at the main game.
The half-court game is more lively, with Pelton bantering with a younger player, whom he later identifies as "Joe." Pelton shoots a little better - and talks a lot more trash.
"Joe" stands behind the three point line, with Pelton guarding him. "You've got a free one, take it, take it," Pelton chides. "Joe" releases. "Rebound," Pelton yells in anticipation of a miss.
The shot hits nothing but the bottom of the net. "Joe" and Pelton laugh.
After his day on the court is done, he begins to talk, complaining about the lack of energy on the court.
"Today is a regretful day," Pelton says. "There's no energy out there on the court. People are just playing without any energy. It's just not very spirited."
Pelton says there usually are more students playing, which makes the games more exciting and lively.
"I like it when there is a lot of energy, a lot of young guys - when you can run up and down the court," he says.
"It's cheap therapy," Pelton says when he is ready to resume his title of Dean of the College. "It gives me an illusion of youth."
