The weather is unseasonably mild here in northern Illinois. Instead of oppressive heat and constant whir of air conditioners, it’s nice enough to leave the windows and doors open. My office overlooks the neighbor’s driveway basketball hoop and with the window open, I can hear all kinds of kid conversations. I am reminded of this post from a couple of years ago …
With March comes madness. About basketball. Seeds and brackets. Betting pools and media darlings. Sweet sixteen and final four.
But what I do find interesting is now that it’s March, kids in my neighborhood come outside and play basketball in the driveways.
They’re getting fresh air and exercise, and they’re not turning into gobs of fat in front of an iPad/computer/television screen. There are six driveway basketball hoops within 100 yards of my office window. If it’s even reasonably decent out after school, I can hear the thump, thump, thump of the ball bouncing on the asphalt, the middle-school trash talking and the whoops of triumph while I work. During one evening earlier this week, I saw flirting when two boys and a girl were playing basketball across the street. Lots of chasing and screaming, all in good fun.
It reminds me of spring and youth…
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