More of the Same
IMPE is dead.
It has been replaced by the Activities and Recreation Center, or the ARC.
Long live IMPE.
I spent many hours in our old Intramural Physical Education Building, or IMPE for short. Many of my fondest memories took place in that old gym. I started and cemented some of my best friendships in IMPE. I've always believed that you could learn a lot about people about how they play sports. Do they share the ball? Do they make the people around them better? Do they want to win? How do they handle losing? Can they think on the fly? Can they adapt to different situations?
Earlier this week, I took my first look at the ARC. It's spectacular. For someone who knows what to look for, you can see the remnants of old IMPE. You see where the old tennis courts have become new basketball courts. You see rounded walls that used to accommodate a small running track. You see the old gym all the way to the right that no one used to play on, still there, off in the periphery. It was a new, upgraded version of the old IMPE.
Completely randomly, I met JohnnyO playing pick-up volleyball on Friday afternoons during my junior year. It was the first Friday of the school year. Johnny was there w/ a couple others, and just happened to see a rag-tag crew playing some pickup. We had a couple OK players, among which I was probably one of the better ones. JohnnyO was more or less elite, and other good players started to come out when word got around that there was volleyball on Fridays that was decent. Johnny and Co. would come out and play, and I would get better. We'd spend hours out there. We'd start up at 3 (after cutting our Friday afternoon classes), and play until 7. It was hot, muggy, and exhausting. But it made me better to be in that crucible - demanding to dominate that last game, despite leaden legs and burning lungs. Making that last dig, that last perfect set, that last swing, that last block. This was more intense than volleyball practice was for me in high school. We were never any good, and there wasn't any aspiration to get better. We were happy to just goof around and have fun. Friday afternoon volleyball was different, despite the lack of official records and trophies. We all had a lot of fun, but the good players all wanted to become better to compete w/ Johnny, and Johnny was more than happy to be there, just because he liked playing. Eventually, the Friday volleyball led to friendship with JohnnyO and a lot of the crew. It started with rolling out to the women's volleyball matches. And then I'd go hang out with them afterwards. I'd roll with them to their parties, and I'd give rides to drunks and keep people out of bar fights. I eventually became their TA for a math course, and have remained friends with those guys since. I still see them a few times a year, when they roll down to campus, or when I roll up to the city.
The ARC is nice. There are three volleyball courts that are always available. There seem to always be at least a couple people playing. I jumped into a pick-up game yesterday. We actually played for almost 2 hours. The others weren't all that great. There was one guy who was OK, but other than that, it was pretty much family reunion volleyball. The funny part was that I was probably the best player there. Definitely the best passer and setter. And I actually jumped OK. But the legs moved a little slower. The reflexes were still more or less there. Passing and setting is still solid, but the jumping is off. When everything clicks just right, I can still get up close to what I used to (which isn't really all that much), but the problem is that everything doesn't always click right. Maybe it's just rust, but maybe I'm getting old.
I also spent a lot of time on the basketball courts. It started out with just me and Matt, neither of us particularly good, during freshman year. I was woefully out of shape, and had to play center, despite being under 6' tall. I had just enough basketball IQ to get myself into trouble, by trying to make plays that were right, but that either I couldn't make or the people around couldn't make. I was limited to these slow, low-post power moves where I'd just try to plow over people. Eventually, I got into pretty good shape, and became much quicker and explosive, to the point where I was actually pretty good, and played point guard or out on the wing, and developed a nice mid-range jumper and started using that basketball IQ to start throwing passes with some mustard on them. Me and Matt expanded to me, Matt, Ed, Westy, C-Lauff, Mikey, and a cast of thousands (or so it seemed). I think that my most successful memory on the basketball court is a stretch of a month, where C-Lauff and I were paired up together and won something like 18 straight games during Sunday morning basketball. There were some games, where we were just great. I'd attack the block and C-Lauff would get the ball in the high post, and put on that beautiful leaner. I'd come up with that little 14' bank shot off the bounce, or C-Lauff would start draining outside shots. But we didn't always play beautiful basketball. But we found a way to win. Sometimes, it was clamping down on D, while our teammates bailed us out on offense. Sometimes, it was just waiting out the other team, who was playing even worse. That may have been the most useful experience for me, in terms of learning to win and learning to succeed. But that's sort of boring.
My funniest memory happened, just off of the court. In the bathroom, right next to the west gym, in fact. We'd play on Sunday mornings, at 10. Waking up at 9:30 was (and is) sort of hard for me on the weekends (or during the week). But I'd roll out of bed at 9:30, brush my teeth, put on gym clothes, and roll out the door. One Sunday, I was playing w/ Matt and Ed, and we won our first game. I had played really well, scoring something like 5 out of 11 points, and was probably the best player on the court that game. Of course, I didn't have time to use the bathroom before basketball, so right after the game, I hustled off to the bathroom. I was sitting on the toilet for about 5 minutes, when Ed came in, looking for me, and seeing if I was alright. I as in the middle of a pretty wicked BM. He realizes that it was me on the can, hears me groaning a bit, and just starts cracking up.
"Uh. Yeah. Can you start up? I'll just sub in when I'm done."
I'll bet that never happened to MJ.
What's interesting about me on the basketball court is that if I'm the 3rd most skilled player on a team, I can do a lot of good things. I'll make a couple tough rebounds, set good screens, make some good passes, and lock down on D. I may even score a couple times. But if you ask me to be the best player, particularly the best scorer, we're in trouble. Part of it is my mentality. One thing that I usually try to do is to make the "right" play. I'll keep making passes to open shooters, even when the open shooters are awful shooters, and haven't made anything all day. I'm stubborn like that - I firmly believe in a "right" way to play basketball, and would rather lose playing "right" than start taking more shots to win. I think that I lost a lot while playing basketball.
One game that I remember winning was a game that I played with Mikey, his roommate, and a couple band geeks. We rolled out to IMPE, and jumped on a court, with a bunch of black dudes out there playing. It became one of the more interesting games that I've played. I was matched up with AJ, who was a good ball player (he started for an A-level intramural team that always went deep in the playoffs). The game devolved into a full-court game of 2-on-2, with me and Mikey vs. AJ and his buddy. If the other team just plays basketball, they kill us, since the band geeks were dead weight. Instead, we managed to get them into this shootout, where AJ wasn't quite strong enough to guard me inside 15 feet, and Mikey was going crazy making steals and getting breakaway layups. I outscored AJ 7 to 6, and Mikey outscored his guy 7 to 3. We won 14-12. The other team was yelling at each other at the end of the game. The band geeks were happy, and could say that they held court against the black dudes, probably conveniently leaving out the fact that they never scored a bucket. I learned that people are happy to be associated with winning, even if they don't have anything to do with it.
So that begs the question of what is "right?" Is it following your principles, regardless of outcome? Or is it the outcome what is right, leaving you to work backwards to figure what the best path is for the best outcome? My most memorable game at IMPE was a game where I was a gunner, and it got my opponent riled up enough to go after me, and forget about the teammates. This was completely opposite my nature, but it was very satisfying to win. I became acquaintances with AJ afterwards. We'd always chat when we'd see each other in the streets, and we'd look out for each other on the court, and try to get into the same game. So, there was some respect there. Interestingly, it came when I was playing somewhat selfishly.
I ran a few games earlier this week. The legs felt good. I was out of shape, but I managed to get through the third game. Much like in volleyball, I've lost a lot of the explosiveness. Every once in a while, I can still get up for a rebound or a shot. The problem is that I'm never quite sure when I can get the lift that I want. So many times, I'll just jump, and I won't go quite as high as I'm expecting. It's excessively frustrating to miss shots that you know that you should be making because you didn't get the lift that you were expecting. Maybe I can capture some lightning in a bottle, and get my legs and my wind back. It's not unheard of to be in better shape in your 30's than in your 20's. But more likely, I'll have to adapt. I'll have to learn new ways to do the things that I used to do.
Perhaps the transition of IMPE to the ARC can mirror my transition, my adaptation. Maybe I'll be new and improved. Is IMPE really dead? I hope not. I trust that anyone who knows will be able to see the old structure, and see how the new has been built up around it. And who knows? Maybe there's some resurrection to be had in this old soul.
Long live IMPE.
-Chairman
