The other day folks here were talking about Christmas wish lists…and I confessed that there was one (probably unattainable) item on mine: I want to play basketball with the President-elect. If it could be at the White House, well then, I think I’d be willing to give up all future Santa requests.
Perhaps only a basketball fiend will understand. Golf with Bill Clinton? Not interested. (Miniature golf is as much as I can handle). Biking with George Bush? Sure, but it’s not the same. Like I said, a couple of hours of good hoops, and I’m done with gifts, from here on…
Over the course of the campaign I had a chance to meet Mr. Obama a few times — but it was the first, pre-campaign conversation that turned briefly to a common passion. The Senator and I were both in our mid-forties, and both addicted to pick-up basketball. I shared with him a story about a college basketball embarrassment — when I’d had the misfortune of trying to dunk on his brother-in-law, Craig Robinson, in Princeton’s Jadwin Gym. Craig was a bona fide player, I was not, and he swatted back my effort with ease and a smirk, as if to say, What are you thinking? Senator Obama laughed, and a few days later I received a note on Senate stationery. “Seems like we both benefited from a failed basketball career.” Right.
OK, so now Barack Obama’s moving into the White House, I’m still here; he plays his occasional almost top-secret game, and I still get in a once or twice-weekly game at a Brooklyn YMCA. And all I want for Christmas is…a little White House game.
Sadly, as is made clear in a great Wall Street Journal piece today (”The Presidential Pickup Game”), a long list of hoopsters share my little hoop dream. Take a look.
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