Recently, at a professional development thing for teachers, I learned a valuable piece of information: inter-school staff basketball games don't just take place in my head when I'm bored at professional development things for teachers. A teacher I met told me that he and his coworkers have scheduled a game against another school in what is sure to be a heated competition invariably involving some teachers getting taken to school, so to speak.
Since learning of this exciting prospect, I've contacted two different schools to schedule some showdowns. I'm really looking forward to this, and not only because I love the game. I can foresee a peculiar morphing of language if a bunch of teachers get together to play a competitive game of the glorious sport. At the same time, basketball lingo has an etiquette of its own, and thus a montage of exclamations on the court that blends the teaching with the balling could be something to look forward to. In anticipation of this, I want to prepare what I'm going to say when my school takes on another school.
As the game starts and a teacher on my team scores the first bucket, I think I'll say, "Nice shot, Mr. Johnson."
Mr. Johnson will nod to me and say, "You can call me Rick, you know."
And I'll say, "Yea, I know that, Mr. Rick."
The next time down the court, let's suppose that a different guy on my team finishes at the rim after a twisting drive to the basket, eluding defenders as if they were standing in sand. I'll say, "Objective-driven! Nice!"
When the guy I'm guarding tries to post me up, assuming that because I'm a thin person he can bully his way to the basket, I'll say to him, "Backwards planning, huh?"
As the first game of this best-of-three series nears its climactic finish, I'll dish off to a teammate who'll bury a game-winning three, and then I'll yell, "Gosh! Great shot! That was so...excellent! Heck yes!"
And the guy that made the shot will say, "Max, all the kids are gone; you can cuss if you want."
And then I'll say, "Fuck yes!" while taking a furtive glance around the gym for any hiding students.
In game two I'll start as a sub. I'll chat with the sub from the other team: "Spring is here, huh?" I'll state lamely.
"It sure is," he'll respond. "The kids are getting a little rowdy–Ooh, nice pass, Mike!–Spring fever, I like to call it."
"Mine too," I'll say. "I'm drowning them in consequences–Get it, get it–Steady narration is no longer doing the trick–Bang! Good hit, Mick!–My positive incentive system just isn't as appealing as it once was."
When I come back into the game, I'll say, "Finally. I don't like being in the chill zone."
When the guy I'm guarding pumps once, jabs right, crosses left like he's going hard to the hole and then abruptly stops, steps back, pulls up, fading away, and drains a ridiculously difficult three-pointer, I'll mutter to him, "Nice shot. Worth four points in my rubric."
This second game will probably have a nail-bitten finish, and I will have added incentive to win so I can get the heck outta there and go home to do some grading. Therefore, when my teammate hits the shot that wins it and ends the best-of-three series, I will jump up and down and say, "Yes! Two points for hard-working! One point for respectful victory! I believe it's time for some free time, teammates! Sure, take out your phones if you want to! We've earned it!"
Later, after the game has ended and we're walking back to our school, Mick, who will obviously be wearing his lucky tie-dye tank, will bring up his stellar dish to me during some fastbreak that I won't be able to remember, but I'll say back to him anyway, "That's right, Mick! You passed with flying colors!"
Since learning of this exciting prospect, I've contacted two different schools to schedule some showdowns. I'm really looking forward to this, and not only because I love the game. I can foresee a peculiar morphing of language if a bunch of teachers get together to play a competitive game of the glorious sport. At the same time, basketball lingo has an etiquette of its own, and thus a montage of exclamations on the court that blends the teaching with the balling could be something to look forward to. In anticipation of this, I want to prepare what I'm going to say when my school takes on another school.
As the game starts and a teacher on my team scores the first bucket, I think I'll say, "Nice shot, Mr. Johnson."
Mr. Johnson will nod to me and say, "You can call me Rick, you know."
And I'll say, "Yea, I know that, Mr. Rick."
The next time down the court, let's suppose that a different guy on my team finishes at the rim after a twisting drive to the basket, eluding defenders as if they were standing in sand. I'll say, "Objective-driven! Nice!"
When the guy I'm guarding tries to post me up, assuming that because I'm a thin person he can bully his way to the basket, I'll say to him, "Backwards planning, huh?"
As the first game of this best-of-three series nears its climactic finish, I'll dish off to a teammate who'll bury a game-winning three, and then I'll yell, "Gosh! Great shot! That was so...excellent! Heck yes!"
And the guy that made the shot will say, "Max, all the kids are gone; you can cuss if you want."
And then I'll say, "Fuck yes!" while taking a furtive glance around the gym for any hiding students.
In game two I'll start as a sub. I'll chat with the sub from the other team: "Spring is here, huh?" I'll state lamely.
"It sure is," he'll respond. "The kids are getting a little rowdy–Ooh, nice pass, Mike!–Spring fever, I like to call it."
"Mine too," I'll say. "I'm drowning them in consequences–Get it, get it–Steady narration is no longer doing the trick–Bang! Good hit, Mick!–My positive incentive system just isn't as appealing as it once was."
When I come back into the game, I'll say, "Finally. I don't like being in the chill zone."
When the guy I'm guarding pumps once, jabs right, crosses left like he's going hard to the hole and then abruptly stops, steps back, pulls up, fading away, and drains a ridiculously difficult three-pointer, I'll mutter to him, "Nice shot. Worth four points in my rubric."
This second game will probably have a nail-bitten finish, and I will have added incentive to win so I can get the heck outta there and go home to do some grading. Therefore, when my teammate hits the shot that wins it and ends the best-of-three series, I will jump up and down and say, "Yes! Two points for hard-working! One point for respectful victory! I believe it's time for some free time, teammates! Sure, take out your phones if you want to! We've earned it!"
Later, after the game has ended and we're walking back to our school, Mick, who will obviously be wearing his lucky tie-dye tank, will bring up his stellar dish to me during some fastbreak that I won't be able to remember, but I'll say back to him anyway, "That's right, Mick! You passed with flying colors!"