Imagine if you were your basketball for a second. A basketball player pulls up for a shot, and…read morereleases you with a flick o' da wrist. The jumper is textbook, and you're put into a rotation that sends you on the trajectory of a fairly nice arc. You get a gorgeous view of the entire South Sunset Park in your brief moment of air time. A beautiful field of AstroTurf lies just across the fence. On it are dozens of elementary-aged children kicking a soccer ball aimlessly, to the apparent delight of the on-looking parents. That would explain the cavalry of mini-vans parked along-side the street right outside the park. Westward, you catch a glimpse of the ocean blue. Despite the hilly terrain of the Sunset District, the basketball hoop is essentially at sea level, making it even more susceptible to the winds of the Pacific Ocean.
Ah, the wind.
Instead of going through the hoop as the trajectory had originally planned for you, the wind had forced you left and down. On your descent, you only barely grazed the left side of the rim before thudding unceremoniously on the hard concrete floor behind the post. Out of bounds, take it from up top.
Playing basketball at South Sunset Park, or better known as '40th and Vicente' (not to be confused with '26th and Vicente'), is as much a test of patience it is of a test of endurance. The backboard is semi-circle and not particularly wide, so forget any bank shots and any fancy English finishes off the glass. The wind, as illustrated above, is omnipresent, determined to forever blow away your confidence --- in your own shot, and in your teammates. "What do you mean I need to pass it to the wide open guy in the corner?!"
Frustrated with the court? You won't be the only one. If you're over the enviable age of 23, chances are your two knees are complaining as well. Every millimeter of your bones take an anguishing pounding from the unforgiving concrete. Playing here is like playing for Coach Thibs. Your knees won't hold up for more than 4 years. I know a guy with pretty good elevation on his jumper. He prefers to shoot like flat-foot Paul Pierce here. Another guy I know likes to sky for the rebound like Jamario Moon. He's all about box-out-fundamentals-only when playing at South Sunset. I, myself, tried jumping for a rebound once. Landed on both feet, full impact. My lower back didn't forgive me for the next three days.
I don't know why people even play here. Perhaps it's because there are four hoops and they are almost always available. For some people, that beats waiting 45 minutes to an hour watching other people play. "Hey I'm after the guy with the yellow shorts. He's gonna be on after the next game. Naw man, I already have my four." Here at South Sunset, I daresay you'll never have to track a guy down to call 'Next'. Sometimes, the best ability is indeed availability.
If you still insist on hooping here after learning all that, then I can only admire your dedication. The wind, the backboard, your knees, and you back? ALL EXCUSES. A true hooper will play anywhere and anytime. LeBron James didn't become the high school phenom by refusing to play in the crappy courts of Akron --- he just didn't develop a jumper until he was 30 is all.
One last advice though: don't wear your indoor ball shoes here. It'll leave without any of the grip left.
