Steven Birenbaum finds connection and community on the basketball court.
“We don’t stop playing because we get old, we get old because we stop playing.”
That line, attributed to George Bernard Shaw, flashed in my mind after re-joining a weekly basketball game I’ve played in off and on for almost twenty years.
You’ll find similar games the world over. These in-person gatherings are the heartbeat of a community – an antidote to our digitally-dominated and disjointed times.
For me, the connective tissue is the feeling I get from showing up, despite the fact that as men we rarely talk about the emotional side of the game.
This particular “hoops run” originated at Cordonices Park in Berkeley in 2005, before settling in at a series of gyms. The median age is around 55. The oldest player, 73, drives from Vacaville.
Bill, the “Commish,” age 66, a Deadhead, has long handled the most important details: gym rental, liability insurance, collecting dues. Through the years, he’s also had to disinvite the occasional hothead with anger management issues. For a time during COVID, he suspended the game. That left us all cranky.
Dave, a longtime player, believes a guy’s emotional state has a way of seeping out during play. As much as the cardio, that may be why guys show up week after week – it’s a release valve.
Recently, a large group of us gathered over burritos and beers to celebrate the game’s longevity. It was the first time most had met outside the gym.
I asked why they continued to play.
“The game means everything to me,” Bill said, his voice wavering.
“I love the thrill of making a shot and the brief euphoria I feel after the games,” said Dave, who just turned 60. “The game keeps me feeling young.”
At the end, we posed for a group photo. Except for the dudes in their 30’s, we’ve aged. Inside, it’s a different story.
Old George Bernard was right. The game, any game, has a way of keeping you young.
With a Perspective, I’m Steven Birenbaum.
Steven Birenbaum shoots his threes in El Cerrito.