Thinking with a ball

Seems everything i do in my life starts with a ball in my hands.

Car to my left, gold, Trans am, detailed to perfection, edges so smooth, wouldn't have turned there if the ball hadn't slipped from my hands. House behind the car, spacious front yard, hoop, backboard, horrible engineering but damn i want to jam that rim. A few blocks down, ball through the legs, crossed over a lamp, "A + A = BFFL".

Walking with a swag, dodging the cracks on the ground, bag on my back, ball left to right, stolen by a breeze from the west, smooth recovery only to see a pretty girl checking my moves. Without my ball she would pass me by. Yet with a ball im suddenly an irresistable blend of Brad Pitt-like looks and Johnny Depp-like manner, want to take me on one on one? Maybe i can take you out to dinner, see what you like, get to know you is all I'm saying. As long as i got that ball in my hands I'm moving your emotions with every hesitation i make, jab step i take or unstoppable shake 'n' bake. Ball slips out of my hands, few steps down, not so smooth recovery, now she's gone.

Got to work on my handles, visions of Kobe, streaming down court, I'd oop it to you, only i got L.O running down my back, oh wait, Shannon Brown, fly baby fly... "Where you been all day?" Sarcasm in their tone...

"Ball in my hands, where do you think i was?" Offense in my manner...

"Put that ball down, it's done nothing for you" The judgement's been passed...

Can't hold a steady job because my body is aching for a court in the big time, can't seem to get over the hump since my body went down the breakdown line, breath, heavy, sigh, myself, ball in my hands, walk a few more blocks.

5 oclock, friday, balling on a commision unit court.

Defender on my line, ill triple threat you. Stare me down i dare you. Jab step right, pull up jumper. off the front of the rim, damn. Time for me to defend. Force him into a corner, crosses me left i run with him then he crosses me right and it's all over, run in for the easy dunk.

Give me that ball im not done with you.

Jab step right, pull up jumper, teases the rim but doesn't go in. Don't worry ill defend again. Triple threats me, jab step left, pull up jumper, i just got schooled.

Give me that ball I'm not done with you.

Triple threat you, jab step right, pump fake... he fell for it... quick first step with one dribble and a step back... Ass is on the floor...

Get up, I'm not done with you...

Ginger get up, defends me loose, dribble hard down the right hand side, half a spin to the elbow, dribble once, spin back, dribble once, now he's trailing me... Spin back to the dotted line, his ass is floored again, pull up short jumper, nothing but chain net...

Get up if you dare, I'll never be done with you..

Dark night rocking me to sleep. Moon up high, shimmering off my mind, Orion so bright, Canis major so loyal, Taurus so ready. My Tf1000 snuggling close to my chest, my TF250 in a deep sleep after a rough day. I might never reach the big time promised land, but it seems so right to me that it should all end, with a ball in my hands.

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