The 12 girls in the orange cowboy hats were heckling me.
They were the "Gator Getters." Girls hired by the University of Florida to show recruits around. There I was, standing at midcourt with 10,000 people staring at me, being heckled by girls in orange cowboy hats. I finally turned to look at them.. Turns out they weren't heckling me, they were shouting advice to me. Little did they realize, they were in for a special suprise. I had been practicing all week, and I didn't need their advice. The horn sounded, and I took off.
While in college, I worked in the bowels of the basketball stadium. The official name was the Stephen F. O'Connell Center. Everyone called it the O'Dome. I was chained to a desk at the entrance of the weightroom checking student ID's. Every once in a while they freed us so we could rack weights and go on 10 minute breaks. One day while walking around on my break, I was lured upstairs by the smell of nacho cheese. They were getting ready for a basketball game that night. That's when I spotted the pile of entry forms stacked next to the drawing box. I looked both ways, and grabbed about 200 of them.
At halftime of all the home basketball games they drew a name of a student. If this student could make a layup, a free throw, a three pointer, and a half court shot all in 30 seconds, getting their own rebounds, they could walk away with $10,000. Mostly, they walked off the court to a chorus of boos. I saw people even miss the layup. I booed them myself. I was now filling out about 200 entry forms to get my shot.
All week I had been practicing the routine at the basketball court behind my apartment. My hand ached from filling out the forms, but the next game was coming up, and I wanted to be ready. My roomate came snooping around to see why I had taken a sudden interest in basketball. After hearing my plot, he agreed to come to the game for support.
I wore sweatpants, basketball shoes and a t-shirt to the big game. Auburn was coming to town, and I was ready. I stuffed 4 boxes with 50 or so entries, found my seat and waited. They call the name with about 5 minutes to go in the half. As the time got close, I started getting nervous. Really nervous. Finally, the big moment, I look at my roomate, they call my name.
I couldn't feel my legs as I walked down to the court. My heart was racing. What had I done now. I showed the girl my student ID and waited. I looked up at the scoreboard. We were losing. I asked the girl if I could hold on to the ball. She said, "No, that's not allowed." I said "I'm not allowed to hold the ball?" She said "Nope," without looking away from the game.
Standing at half court, I noticed that the line was much further from the basket than the line at my apartment. The "Dazzlers" were bouncing around me, performing their halftime show. The horn sounded, and I took off running. What was the advice the Gator Getters had? Don't dribble. I tucked the ball under my arm as I ran towards the hoop. I heard them give a little cheer.
The layup nearly rimmed out, but dropped through. I heard a smattering of applause. I ran to the free throw line, let it go and it went in. I heard a little more applause. I knew as soon as I let go of the three point shot I knew it was going in. As I picked the ball up and ran towards the half court line, I saw 13 seconds on the clock. I could really hear the crowd now. I took a deep breath, backed up and made a running shot. As soon as I let it go I could tell it was heading left. It had the distance, and must have looked better from the stands, because I could hear a collective "Oooh!" from the crowd when it missed. They gave me an honest ovation, and I heard "Sign him up!" several times.
The stingy girl with the ball was now my friend. She ran up to me and patted me on the back and told me how exciting it was. Then she handed me Pizza Hut gift certificates and a voucher for any pair of Reebok shoes I wanted, unless they were the new "Pumps" that had just come out. All that for making the other shots.
I know this is long. I know you don't believe me. I tried to get a tape of the finest athletic moment of my life to prove that this really did happen. The sports info guy said he had half of it on tape, and to pick it up next week. When I stopped by, he regretted to inform me that the camcorder had been stolen at the Mississippi State game, and it had my tape in it.
