jump_shot raze i used to practice shooting with a cardboard box. i would set it down in the driveway and make a backboard out of the hedge that separated the dark grey pavement from the front lawn. i would stand as far away as i could get, and i would test myself. i knew when i had the real thing in front of me it would be different. what i was aiming at would be above my head, not on the ground. it didn't matter. i was practicing my shooting form. i was building muscle memory. my stepfather put a basketball net in the driveway after we moved into a new house. it wasn't enough just to practice shooting now. he said that wasn't real basketball. he knew how to handle the ball. i didn't. he wasn't going to teach me what he knew. so we played a lot of one-sided games of one on one. it wasn't much different from when we played pool in the basement. he always won. i played twenty-one with brianne once. my mother sat in a lawn chair where the crushed gravel met the lip of the garage. i took a shot. i made it. "swish," i said. "you need glasses," my mother said. "that was an air ball." "no it wasn't. i made the shot." "you better watch your mouth. you wouldn't want me to embarrass you in front of your friend, would you?" i wanted to say, "nothing could embarrass me more than being your son." i kept my mouth shut. i liked my cardboard box better. the other day there were two boys in the park, maybe nine or ten years old. they looked like brothers, but they weren't. they were just friends who looked a lot alike. they were dressed the same way. same heavy dark green coats. same black knit caps. they had a ball, but they didn't have a basket to shoot on. they didn't even have a box. they aimed at the air, imagining where the net might be, arcing that leather sphere with its rubber bladder, releasing it, and letting it fall. they made every shot they took. before they left, they stood back to back and took turns reaching around and smacking each other on the back of the head. it was a game. they were laughing. they walked sideways like that for a while. then they pivoted so they were beside each other and i watched them disappear, two pure shooters bundled up against the earliest winter they'd ever known. 211028 what's it to you? who go blather from