Paean to balling

L.J.: a dream in motion.

(Photo by Ed Piper)

By Ed Piper

There is an art to basketball, a flow that you can feel when you're playing it, can see when you are watching it.

The movement of athletes in the rhythm of ball creates a symphony. A defender mirrors the posture of the ball-handler he is guarding, showing the ballet-like nature to the sport.

James Naismith, the founder of the sport, would have liked this part of his activity. He never saw it at the level it is played today.

I thought about some of this as the athletes from Corona Centennial and opposing Fairfax cavorted in front of me on the nearby court, only feet away from my front-row bleacher seat at the Holiday Classic.

Someone said elite basketball players are among the best athletes in the world, and I believe it, incorporating grace, speed, strength, and balance. It's just amazing what talented basketball players can do.

L.J. Figueroa, a junior who plays for Oldsmar Christian School of Florida, which also played in the Torrey Pines tournament, took the ball on one three-quarter-court lunge to the basket. He is a 6'5" guard who plays much bigger.

L.J., whose initials I've said I like, is tall, sinewy, built to ball. He has a crop of hair which accentuates his vertical nature--vertical up and to the hoop.

On this particular drive, which began with his steal, he took a gauge on the basket far ahead of him as he sped forward. His long strides covered a third of the court in only a couple of steps.

As he got in top-of-the-key range, he began to gather himself for his final assault on the basket.

He had a defender to deal with, so he knew he would have to protect the ball and put it up in some way that would not be blocked.

It was nearly breath-taking as he leaped out to elongated steps forward, controlled the ball to his side, and stretched finally with the ball held in both hands as he launched.

It was "faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive" in Superman-style. Figueroa, instead of attempting a slam, which he could have done, stayed within himself to lay the ball softly up and in. He cradled the ball in experienced hands that knew he didn't want to mess this one up.

Sure, it was art. But it was also for competitive edge, and he wanted this basket to go in, not just look good.

We, the initiated, watched in appreciation and awe of his fine art. So natural, though developed over years and years of balling.

Sometimes it's such a shock when the TV analyst interviews an athlete after the game, and their words just aren't as eloquent as what they have displayed with their bodies. I wouldn't want L.J.'s articulate speech or lack thereof to dampen any of the joy and pleasure gained from watching such a brush stroke as what he has just taken.

What a canvas. What a result. Art. Etched by the finest touch, just a different medium than Van Gogh or Puccini.