Hoops, Hips and Sips: Making Old Friends New

Opening Tip

“Everywhere I have lived, I have met people through basketball.”

Hank Zona

It was the early 90’s.  I was edging into my mid-twenties, a few years removed from graduating from Villanova University, and made a move from Philadelphia to Hoboken, New Jersey.  Once settled, my first order of business, before securing a job, before even buying a bed for my apartment share, was to join the local YMCA.   I did this for two reasons: the cheap membership fee, and they had an indoor basketball court.

They say basketball, unlike many team sports, appeals to the loner, as it allows one to play and to practice without accompaniment: be it dribbling, shooting, or catching caroms (i.e rebounds) after misses.   I fit the bill as a youngster.  I was shy and introverted.  But I had an expansive imagination.  On my driveway court, I acted out elaborate fantasies where I swished buzzer-beating winners, brought adoring fans to their feet with nifty passes, and silenced hostile crowds with uncanny marksmanship.  Unlike my meek self, in my faux driveway games I was a showman like Nate “Tiny” Archibald, whose diminutive size was eclipsed by his large talent.  Being short and slight for my age, I identified with Archibald, who to this day is the only player to lead the NBA in scoring and assists over a single season.  I liked him so much I constantly wore, and wore out, several pairs of his signature “Tiny” sweat socks.

Yet what started out as a mostly isolated pursuit, soon became a vehicle to make friends and join athletic communities.  It started with meeting other boys in the neighborhood with a passion for basketball, and playing endless hours of pickup with them.  Organized basketball soon followed:  junior high and high school squads, and then college intramural teams.  By the time I moved to Hoboken, I had logged countless miles on courts near and far, shot thousands upon thousands of jump shots on rims new, rusted or bent, and counted as friends hundreds of guys from all walks of life who deigned the hardwood with me over the years.

We Were Awful

“If you remember, we got teamed up with a bunch of former Syracuse soccer players. Those guys were in remarkable shape, but as soccer players had no idea how to use their hands. You’d throw a perfect pass and they’d bounce it off their chests first, then pass right back to you or me. What I took away from that – they were just happy to be running around and being on a playing surface together. They were happy, regardless of the outcome.”

Hank Zona

But when I first arrived in Hoboken back in the 90’s, there were few of my friends around. My college chums, in particular, were spreading out fast along the east coast and beyond, chasing careers and romantic relationships.  I was new to town, but in a holding pattern professionally and personally.  Feeling the tug of loneliness, I joined the Y.   It was a good decision, as they ran a basketball league, and a new season was starting with teams being formed.   Not able to recruit my own squad, I put my name into a pool and let the Y match me with others in a similar situation.  Which is how I met Hank Zona.

Like me, Hank was a hoop habituate.  He was about my age, but taller and broader-shouldered.  He was also a lefty to my righty.  On the court he was competitive, even at times pugnacious; he never backed down.  But once a game ended he was as sweet as cream corn.   And funny.  Which was needed, because we were awful.

No matter, Hank and I tried our best to win games (or at least not get crushed).  It helped that we complimented each other well on the court.  As a power forward, operating down low, Hank possessed a deadly jump hook, a sneaky up-and-under move, a nice mid-range jumper, and a knack for squeezing between defenders for offensive tip-ins.  He was always good for 30 points, and half that in rebounds.  On the perimeter, as point guard, I assisted on many of his baskets and put in as many as I could as well.  We probably accounted for 90 percent of our team’s scoring.  We joked we were the Stockton/Malone of the Y league.  Still, we lost nearly every game.  But we had a good time and became good friends.  And for the next several years, we played all the time together – finally organizing our own team, and even winning a Y-league championship.

Life Moves Fast in Both Directions

“We had a strong communication and communion on the court and in conversation back in the latter part of the last century; now it’s interesting and rewarding to see how this communication and communion is translated through the written word.”   

Hank Zona

As often is the case, time and situation resulted in Hank and I drifting apart.  The truth is that while life moves fast, the past does as well – just in the opposite direction.  And it gets harder to remain close, or even semi-close, to friends from the “old days.”

Over those twenty years or so we lost contact, I often thought fondly about Hank – about our chemistry on the court, and the fun we had after hanging out and downing a beer…or three. But about the time throwing him a bounce pass felt like a distant museum memory, our paths crossed again at a reading in New York City.   We picked up without missing the proverbial “beat”, let alone a few decades.  And during that initial catching up we discovered a shared passion other than basketball: writing.  Hank, in turned out, was penning articles, and making a name for himself, in the wine/entertainment industry.

Painful Advice

“We think we manage our pain, but in reality it ends up managing us.”

Hank Zona

With the ice (man) broken, Hank and I have remained connected, including on social media.  I like his posts on wine, admire his writing, his nuanced and optimistic view of life.  And most recently, I value his medical advice.

Perhaps it was all those trips up and down the court, but my left hip, starting a few years back, began to ache.  Then, I started to lose range of motion, and the pain extended from walking to even sleeping on the wrong side.  I finally made the decision to get a replacement, but having never had surgery before, I was terrified.  Hank heard and immediately reached out to me.  It turned out he had successful surgery on both his hips.  He was encouraging, gave me really good advice, and turned my fears around.  And he was right, as while I write this, I’m three months into the new joint and feel renewed.

Lacing Them Up Again

“My game has gone from physical to mental to psychological! Do it for fun. Be realistic. Do what you can do and know your limitations. If you don’t feel good or feel injured, pay attention to your body and take a break. Take satisfaction in doing something a lot of your friends no longer do. I figure I am going to wake up sore whether I played or not, so may as well play.” 

Hank Zona

Now that my hips is healing, and I’m getting stronger every day, I’ve a great desire to play basketball again.  Because of my prior pain and stiffness, it’s been nearly two years since I laced them up.  During that time, I also moved to a new area.  One of the incentives for me to play again, ancillary to the competition, the exercise and the physical release, is the camaraderie.  I’ve met so many wonderful friends through basketball, like Hank, and I’m hoping this pattern will renew once I enter the fray again.

A New “Old” Friend

“James Naismith, who invented basketball, has one of the best quotes about the sport: Basketball doesn’t build character, it reveals it. My corollary has always been people reveal their true selves quicker and more obviously on a court or field than in any other setting in life.”  

Hank Zona

I believe friendship is fluid and flexible, but not fungible.  It can run hot and cold, but can never be replaced.  It is an essential part of the human experience, and one of the most rewarding.   In regards to Hank, it feels like he was once a new friend, then an old friend, and now a “new old” friend, if that makes any sense.  Either way, I don’t care.  He’s my power forward, I’m his point guard, and I dare anyone to stop us when the game is on the line..or when we are writing a line.  To this end, stay tuned for the next installment of “Hoops, Hips and Sips.”

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