A ball with the chicks!
"Defense! Defense! Defense!". Wait a minute! The ball is in my hand, and my team-mates are all over the place waving their hands, asking for the ball. Why's my mind screaming DEFENSE when I'm supposed to go on the offensive? Am I just plain confused at having picked up the wrong signal, or is my mind, at a sub-conscious level, aware of what's going to happen next? Would I lose the ball to my opponent and have to get back on the defensive? I tried to shake it off me by wriggling my body, but to no avail. Only my defense got intimidated mistaking it for an unprecedented basketball move and went on the alert. Anyway, with all the melee in my mind lowering my self confidence, and with some co-ordination from my team-mates, and finally, after banging each other...err, banging into each other, we scored a basket.
As the game progressed, my mind rid itself of the chivying thought and treaded on greener pastures, for I noticed the audience to our game building up, which also included two girls. Concentrating on my defense was becoming an up-hill task, for my offense would always position himself in such a way that the chicks would get a clear view of me. It's time to impress them! Unleashing all the tricks and moves - which hitherto had been hid so well that even bin-laden would've gotten envious - I managed to master over a long period of time, breaking the defense and scoring a few baskets wasn't that difficult. The audience lauded my skills. I wasn't sure if the chicks dug me. There was a time when I managed to get close to the hoop, only to find two of my opponents appear from nowhere and stand in front of me, ready to spoil my party. Not seeing my team-mates around, and as a desperate measure, I threw the ball in the air. Surprisingly, the ball cleared the long arms of everyone in the defense, mistook the rim for a trampoline, bounced on it half a dozen times, and finally gave in to the temptation of wanting to get a feel for what it would be like to rub against the fish-net stockings, which is how the "net" suspended from the rim would appear. As a true admirer of the game and it's nuances, I was fuming at my team-mates for not ceasing to drool over the chicks and come to my assistance in times of despair, described above. I even had a little chat with them about this, and at this juncture, to my surprise, the chicks started applauding. This confused me beyond comprehension! What the heck were they delighted at? Was it the way I scored the basket, or was it the little exercise the ball did after it went of my hand, or was it my confrontation with my own team-mates? Or, all of it? How I wish I knew what it was? I mean, it would be so tough to do all of it to impress them again. Confronting my team-mates would be the easiest, for I'd have fewer folks to bribe. The audience crowd continued gathering, with more chicks showing up, and I thought this was a result of the news of me enthralling the audience spreading like forest-fire in the Ramaiah campus. Just when I got the ultimate inspiration to perform better, I heard a whistle blow. It was the Basketball coach of Ramaiah college signalling us to clear off the court. But he was polite enough to tell us how he appreciated our game, and that we'd have to sit out just for half hour so the college students could play.
The two teams slated to play, entered the court. The teams consisted of people of all sizes ranging from lilliput inhabitants to Giant Kali. The game began, and right from the word go, we started enjoying the wrestling bout. Clearly, these guys didn't know enough about BasketBall, and they were either hugging people holding the ball thereby ensuring the ball doesn't go anywhere, or enacting an Indian movie scene where the hero/heroine is in control of the ball and the others encircle him/her so he/she doesn't run away without completing the shoot, or two giants grunting and tearing each others' clothes in a display of manliness. One team had a lot of co-ordination within them, and the other team was blessed with this guy Sandeep, who'd decided he'd single-handedly help his team lose. He indulged in the solo-game, you know where the guy just wouldn't let go off the ball(s) until he finds the hole, and feels it's the right time to put it in the hole. God, no! You perverts! I'm talking about BasketBall, here! Anyway, the dude's team-mates didn't seem to get tired of enduring his foolhardiness. But there was a gal from the crowd who kept shouting, "Pass the ball and play!". Just when it appeared even her words would go unheeded, the moment which changed the entire nature of the game for good, came. "Pass the ball, or I'll break up with you!", grunted the girl. Sandeep froze for a moment, and the opponent team seizing the opportunity, snatched the ball from his hand and scored a basket. The words had such impact on Sandeep, that for the rest of the game, he hardly held the ball in his hand, even when he was to be holding it. The girl, who I thought was cheering for me when I was playing, was Sandeep's girl friend. Hurt at having lost an opportunity with her, I was trying to focus my attention on someone else, when this thought struck me. How did she know that passing the ball and playing was the way to go? Did she know BasketBall well, or was it just common-sense? I was hoping it was the former, and that Sandeep did something stupid so she'll break up with him. I mean clearly we'd hit it off, as we have at least one thing in common - Basketball. But at half-time, I realized this wasn't going to happen, for they seemed to be caring for, and cuddling each other like bunnies. What's worse, everytime the teams engaged in usage of those four-letter words during swearing and sledging, the chicks cheered for them, and they maintained pin-drop silence when someone dribbled well, or when any other BasketBall trick performed well. Dejected at all this, I decided to head home and rode on my bike. On my way, while passing the Ramaiah's girl hostel, I saw two pretty girls and they smiled at me. I, basking in the dejection imposed on me by similar chicks, looked away and whirred past them.
The morals (yes, plural) of the story:
1. To get a chick, just being good at basketball would not suffice.
2. When chicks smile at you, you look at them from top to bottom, and say: "How you doin'?"
As the game progressed, my mind rid itself of the chivying thought and treaded on greener pastures, for I noticed the audience to our game building up, which also included two girls. Concentrating on my defense was becoming an up-hill task, for my offense would always position himself in such a way that the chicks would get a clear view of me. It's time to impress them! Unleashing all the tricks and moves - which hitherto had been hid so well that even bin-laden would've gotten envious - I managed to master over a long period of time, breaking the defense and scoring a few baskets wasn't that difficult. The audience lauded my skills. I wasn't sure if the chicks dug me. There was a time when I managed to get close to the hoop, only to find two of my opponents appear from nowhere and stand in front of me, ready to spoil my party. Not seeing my team-mates around, and as a desperate measure, I threw the ball in the air. Surprisingly, the ball cleared the long arms of everyone in the defense, mistook the rim for a trampoline, bounced on it half a dozen times, and finally gave in to the temptation of wanting to get a feel for what it would be like to rub against the fish-net stockings, which is how the "net" suspended from the rim would appear. As a true admirer of the game and it's nuances, I was fuming at my team-mates for not ceasing to drool over the chicks and come to my assistance in times of despair, described above. I even had a little chat with them about this, and at this juncture, to my surprise, the chicks started applauding. This confused me beyond comprehension! What the heck were they delighted at? Was it the way I scored the basket, or was it the little exercise the ball did after it went of my hand, or was it my confrontation with my own team-mates? Or, all of it? How I wish I knew what it was? I mean, it would be so tough to do all of it to impress them again. Confronting my team-mates would be the easiest, for I'd have fewer folks to bribe. The audience crowd continued gathering, with more chicks showing up, and I thought this was a result of the news of me enthralling the audience spreading like forest-fire in the Ramaiah campus. Just when I got the ultimate inspiration to perform better, I heard a whistle blow. It was the Basketball coach of Ramaiah college signalling us to clear off the court. But he was polite enough to tell us how he appreciated our game, and that we'd have to sit out just for half hour so the college students could play.
The two teams slated to play, entered the court. The teams consisted of people of all sizes ranging from lilliput inhabitants to Giant Kali. The game began, and right from the word go, we started enjoying the wrestling bout. Clearly, these guys didn't know enough about BasketBall, and they were either hugging people holding the ball thereby ensuring the ball doesn't go anywhere, or enacting an Indian movie scene where the hero/heroine is in control of the ball and the others encircle him/her so he/she doesn't run away without completing the shoot, or two giants grunting and tearing each others' clothes in a display of manliness. One team had a lot of co-ordination within them, and the other team was blessed with this guy Sandeep, who'd decided he'd single-handedly help his team lose. He indulged in the solo-game, you know where the guy just wouldn't let go off the ball(s) until he finds the hole, and feels it's the right time to put it in the hole. God, no! You perverts! I'm talking about BasketBall, here! Anyway, the dude's team-mates didn't seem to get tired of enduring his foolhardiness. But there was a gal from the crowd who kept shouting, "Pass the ball and play!". Just when it appeared even her words would go unheeded, the moment which changed the entire nature of the game for good, came. "Pass the ball, or I'll break up with you!", grunted the girl. Sandeep froze for a moment, and the opponent team seizing the opportunity, snatched the ball from his hand and scored a basket. The words had such impact on Sandeep, that for the rest of the game, he hardly held the ball in his hand, even when he was to be holding it. The girl, who I thought was cheering for me when I was playing, was Sandeep's girl friend. Hurt at having lost an opportunity with her, I was trying to focus my attention on someone else, when this thought struck me. How did she know that passing the ball and playing was the way to go? Did she know BasketBall well, or was it just common-sense? I was hoping it was the former, and that Sandeep did something stupid so she'll break up with him. I mean clearly we'd hit it off, as we have at least one thing in common - Basketball. But at half-time, I realized this wasn't going to happen, for they seemed to be caring for, and cuddling each other like bunnies. What's worse, everytime the teams engaged in usage of those four-letter words during swearing and sledging, the chicks cheered for them, and they maintained pin-drop silence when someone dribbled well, or when any other BasketBall trick performed well. Dejected at all this, I decided to head home and rode on my bike. On my way, while passing the Ramaiah's girl hostel, I saw two pretty girls and they smiled at me. I, basking in the dejection imposed on me by similar chicks, looked away and whirred past them.
The morals (yes, plural) of the story:
1. To get a chick, just being good at basketball would not suffice.
2. When chicks smile at you, you look at them from top to bottom, and say: "How you doin'?"
posted by Sams @ 1:59 AM
5 Comments:
Dude..full KLPD! I thought you scored some 3 pointers with the chicks. You should've said "Excuse me...side please!" :)
couldn't go beyond the first para da.. my eyes started hurting
buster! "How you doin'?" anthe. You're in Mathikere dude. You say 'Elli mane?'
@jax: LOL! I'll remember to say it next time, dude.
@nagu: Try to complete it, sisya.
@deppe: That's for you guys, da. With chicks, I need to use something that works ;)
Yes maga...use something that works while it still works... use your "magana mundi's" (read as KidKnees) !!!
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