Okay, let’s talk about this whole “pacers 31” thing that’s been rattling around in my head. It takes me way back. Not to some complex project or anything, but just messing around, trying something out, you know?
I remember getting really hooked on basketball back in the day. Couldn’t play much organized stuff, but the park courts? Yeah, spent some time there. And watching the games, especially the Pacers, was a big deal. Number 31, Reggie Miller, he was something else. Clutch shots, that swagger… it was captivating.
Trying the Impossible Shot
So, one afternoon, I got this idea stuck in my head. I wanted to see if I could even remotely replicate one of those crazy shots. Not the technique, obviously, I wasn’t delusional. Just the feeling of hitting something under pressure, even if the pressure was just me against myself.
Here’s what I did, step-by-step, pretty much:
- Grabbed the ball: Found my old, slightly deflated basketball. Good enough.
- Headed to the court: Went down to the local park. It was mostly empty, thankfully. Didn’t need an audience for my guaranteed failures.
- Picked the spot: Not quite the NBA three-point line, let’s be real. Found a spot that felt challenging but not totally ridiculous.
- Set the scene (in my head): Tried to imagine the clock ticking down, needing this one shot. Yeah, kinda cheesy, I know.
- Started shooting: And bricking. A lot. Clanked off the rim, air balls, you name it. It was way harder than it looked on TV. Shocker, right?
- Kept trying: Didn’t give up right away. Adjusted my stance, my release. Still mostly bad shots.
- Focused on that feeling: More than making the shot, I focused on that moment right before the release, the hope mixed with the expectation of probably missing.
I must have been out there for maybe an hour. Shot after shot. Most were terrible. A few rattled in, purely by luck I think. But there was this one shot. It felt different leaving my hand. I watched it arc up, and swish. Nothing but net.
Now, was it a game-winner? Nope. Did it mean anything? Not really. But for that split second, hitting that one clean shot after so many misses, I kinda got a tiny taste of why those moments in games feel so big. It wasn’t about being Reggie Miller, not even close. It was just about trying something, failing a bunch, and then finally having that one small moment where it clicked.
It’s funny how stuff like that sticks with you. Just a random afternoon trying to hit a shot because you saw number 31 do it on TV. Simple stuff, really.
