This week Austin and I took the competition to our peers, and by peers, we mean fellow students who compete for intramural glory and can’t pass muster. We were excited for the reprieve from facing the grind of varsity athletes in their sports of choice, returning to the place from which we started our climb to becoming Rec League Legends. Recording some time in the Moosilauke League is also a great way to boost our community service stats.
Austin and I both decided to play for our respective fraternities’ teams. Austin competed in a Chi Heorot fraternity hockey game. Though the sport has few roots in Kentucky, Austin excelled at in high school (I wonder if those two are somehow connected). I decided to join the Sigma Phi Epsilon fraternity basketball team. As discussed in our column a few weeks back, I know a few things about the sport — namely that being tall makes a huge difference.
We took the week off in terms of training, since we knew that we were competing against other athletes that would probably approach the games the same way we would: in a solid state of unpreparedness, with way too much work and that lingering handicap from going out the night before. Austin also brushed up with the new NHL on Xbox 360, and it defied expectations, especially because he dusted his 10-year-old opponent from Kansas. (This plug is shameless. Microsoft — send the check to my Hinman Box, social dues don’t pay themselves)
Unfortunately, the Granite League can be a little less forgiving. Austin refused to talk about it, but from the post-game report on “ESPN 8: The Ocho,” it appeared that the competition didn’t lack talent or a goalie. It wasn’t in the cards for Heorot. He insisted we just leave it at that.
On my side of the competition, Sig Ep fielded a team of six players for the game, but faced a team of 12. With only one sub, we had to rely on our endurance. I started psyching myself out before the game started, knowing I would likely pass out from exhaustion sometime in the second half. As I walked onto the floor for the tip-off I faced a tall, athletic guy. Before the game started, I was down 0-2.
I was promptly out-jumped in the tip-off, and then I had to try guarding somebody with both a height and weight advantage. The game got off to a slow start, with lots of missed shots and bad passes. Lots of fouls, too. I mean a lot. Some were called, some weren’t. It got a bit heated at times, but that’s IM for you.
It’s all tied up with about 30 seconds left. We have the ball, passing it around the perimeter to get the perfect last shot. I was down low and got open. John Beneville ’16 hit me with the perfect pass. I turn to see a clear path to the basket, but as I put the shot up, I see an arm come from nowhere. THWACK. Shot blocked out of bounds, and there goes my chance to be the hero. Or so I thought.
A last second heave by the opposition that missed its mark, pushed us into overtime, where true legends are made. We took the lead in overtime until the other team hit a well-timed three, so with about 30 seconds left were down by one. Beneville took the ball down the court. A shot clanged off the rim, and I thought we were done. Not quite.
When the other tea, grabbed the rebound, I decided to go all out. The Legend in me kicked in. I ripped the ball out of the opposing players hands, right under the basket, and in the scariest moment of my life put up a little shot on the backboard.
Expecting to see an arm out of nowhere swat it away, I instead saw it go through the net. The whistle blew. We had won. You quickly forget about the bad shots and bad passes when you hit a shot like that, so I won’t bore you with my stats.
So, there it is. The Legends did it this week, and next week we finally get our chance with the alpine skiing team. Get your goggles and speed suit ready, and we’ll meet you at the Skiway.
