What happens when you confuse "tall American" with "good at basketball"

Here is the biggest piece of news that has happened recently: I am on the St. Mark's basketball team.

James Cook University athletics work in strange ways. There is, to my knowledge, little or no inter-collegiate athletic competition. If there is, it is certainly not to the degree that it exists in the United States. I think there are one or two major events each year (the Northern University Games, which can lead to a berth in the Australian University Games). The lack of an inter-collegiate athletic scene, however, is supplanted by a thriving intramural one. The residential colleges compete in multiple sports for the Fisher Shield, which I believe is given to the college with the most overall points at the end of the year. Points are awarded for how successful one is at various sports. So far this semester we've had soccer, touch football (Australian rules), cross-country (one big race, which I missed due to our Whitsundays trip) and now basketball. There are men's and women's games for each sport, and the competition is fairly intense, certainly more so than any other intramural sports league in which I've ever partaken.

I joined the team because of a chance meeting with the captain of the team in the laundry room. Somehow word had got out that I was interested in playing basketball (I had mentioned it to a few people), or maybe he just assumed that I would be good since I was tall and American. Anyway, that meeting led to a one-hour training session that afternoon and a two games the following day. Now, let me stress that I have played only intramural basketball since the ninth grade. There are no set plays, no zone defenses--it's basically every man for himself, and teams are held together by only the loosest of bounds. St. Mark's runs layup and cutting drills, plays exclusively zone, has one or two offensive plays. It's odd.

Our first game, last Thursday, found me on the bench for a majority of the time. There are five clear starters--all of which can handle the ball to some degree, can rebound, play defense, etc. The rest of us have trouble with one or all of these things. I can rebound, maybe play defense, hustle. I am also tall. This combination of "skills" has led to a place as the first man off the bench, mostly because I am the only backup capable of playing any of the forward or center positions. Our starters have to rest occasionally, and I'm the one who takes their place.

Considering the state of our team, it is probably not too surprising that we have started the season 0 for our first 3. The first two games we took on more talented colleges with a larger residency from which to glean their rosters. We fought hard in each game, but ultimately fell short. Our third loss, in which we took on a clearly inferior St. Paul's team, was embarrassing; we played poorly and squandered a late lead. To illustrate, let me recount the score after the first quarter: 1-0, Mark's. That's right. 1-0. Quarters are eight minutes long, but we somehow managed to net only a single solitary free throw. I was forced into starting duty due to the absence of our small forward, who had been in Brisbane for the weekend and had not yet returned. My line for the night read a lot like our season to date: 3-4 missed shots (put-backs, no less), some untimely turnovers, but the 7-8 rebounds, some gritty defense, the occasional screen or hard foul kept us close until falling short at the end. It was incredibly frustrating. Luckily, I had an ultimate game to attend to later on that evening, which we won, a victory that sweetened the bad taste of the unfortunate outcome. But this post is about basketball, not ultimate! Let's end it with these two thoughts:

1. During our second game, fans/residents of George Roberts Hall heckled me by quoting Napoleon Dynamite. Way to be original, guys, I've never heard that one before. Besides, Napoleon doesn't have my sweet facial hair.
2. There is nothing better than completely boxing someone out and getting the rebound. Nothing.