Stan the Man

Every once in a while, you run into someone who makes such a profound impact on you that you walk away different. That happened to me yesterday.

I got a last second call from an old friend that he needed help in a city league basketball game. I reluctantly agreed, thinking that I was too old, too injured, or too busy to exercise with a bunch of guys younger than me. Why would an old man like me try to keep up with guys just half my age?

That was until I met Stan.

He was on the other team we played. Double Zero in the program, but quickly rocketed to number one in my book. With a smile a wide as the state of Texas, and a twinkle in his eye that made you wonder what he had been up to, Stan's way of playing just made you "want" to be out there with him.

After the game, he shared his story with me. "Moved to the Ozarks a few years ago from Connecticut. Should have done it sooner" he said as he described how much he appreciated basketball players around here.

"They actually pass the ball to me" he continued.

"Basketball is the greatest sport in the world because EVERYONE can do something special" (it was obvious to me that he was a "pickup game junkie" who traveled from gym to gym finding open doors and early morning or late night games). His words were convincing and motivating.

A pinch of pride squeaked out when he commented on a move he made at the end of the game that involved posting another player up in the lane and executing a pretty sweet "old school" hook shot. "I can shoot a lot better than that" he chuckled, with a tone in his voice that just told you he couldn't wait till the next game to lace up again.

"About a year ago, I had a heart attack, but I did everything the doctor told me to do and I feel better than ever" he said as he finished a power bar and wiped the chocolate from his face.

I reluctantly asked, "How old are you Stan?"

"70...and I feel great" he humbly shared. "Just keep playing and you will never lose it."

As I walked away, I realized a couple of things: first, Stan is the man. Secondly, I hope that I am still playing when I am 70 and guys will pass me the ball for an old school hook shot.

When my own son came down the lane at kwest and dunked on me a few years ago, I won't lie when I say that took some wind out of my sails. I thought about hanging up my Chuck Taylor's.

After meeting Stan, I guess I will give it a go again this summer.

Bring on the stallions at the stable.