Would you like some cornflakes?

According to my mom, my dad didn't half-ass anything when it came to work. He was never afraid to put up another board or drive an extra nail and -as we discovered after he died- he was fond of pouring extra cement. Sixteen or seventeen years ago when my parents first got satellite television he set the dish up himself. (He had the "if you want something done right do it yourself attitude.") Of course it became out-dated and my step-dad had to take it down. It wasn't easy. No tractor we or the neighbors had could pull it out. Finally, he tried the bulldozer and managed to loosen it up a bit. Then he dug some... And loosened it up more. When he uprooted it it became apparent why it was so stubborn. At least four feet of the steel poll was surrounded in concrete.

Typical.

My dad also put in the basketball goal that stands rather slumped in the middle of our driveway. When my parents moved here they had a basketball goal before hot water. Needless to say, he loved the sport. He played varsity in high school (his team won state the year he graduated) and never seemed to quit playing. He wasn't too happy when he broke his back around the time I was born and took out his frustration by throwing a basketball against the wall and catching it while laying in bed. He followed the sport religiously. (No wonder he made sure that satellite wouldn't take flight.)

The basketball goal has endured over 25 years of wear and tear: tornadoes, intense freezing and thawing, a 6'5" 260 lbs. kid slam dunking on it... It's had nothing but constant use. Some of my earliest memories are of heated games that took place between my dad and my uncles under the net. (I couldn't find any pictures) When I was kindergarten basketball it was lowered. In the jr. high it was raised again. Now Jeffy and the neighbor boys dust up their shoes in the gravel every evening.

But... As I said, it is slumped. A few years ago we had to replace the backboard (we kept the rim) but you still have to hit the backboard high to get the ball in the basket. Jeffy wants to put up a new one which, is understandable. It's rusted, busted, and bent. No basketball goal should throw the ball back to you... My mom thinks it'll make the satellite project seem as easy as plucking daisies. She keeps reminding my step-dad that he must remember who put the goal in the first place...

I don't know why I'm blogging about this... I just think it's a little humorous. If my dad put four ft. of concrete around a satellite I'm sure that blessed basketball goal has eight! Jeffy has no idea what he's getting into. I hate to see it go. It may be silly but so many of my memories are focused around it. But, old or new, this place would never be the same without a basketball goal...

I'm glad i won't be involved in putting it up.