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Dunk? Me?

Did I say dunk?

Ha ha. Funny for a minute there I thought I said I would dunk by our next March Madness.

Funk. Yeah that’s what I meant. I would add more funk to my listening list and this blog.

Ha ha. Dunk.

Sandwiched between great athletes Buck Johnson and Trent RIchardson at MikeMadness 2018. Hoping their talent rubs off on me.

Well it’s the morning (or two) after and you can see my state of mind about my vow to dunk. AL.com colleague  John Archibald said if I do it — dunk, that is, — he will donate $1,000 to Lewy body disease research. I have unofficially heard three other colleagues say they would do the same thing.

Before I get too many pledges let me continue with more research. It’s not encouraging so far.

The $1,000  checks seem pretty safe. The more research I do, the more questions and doubts I have. I’m 58 and losing brain cells and muscle tone as we speak.

Then I read a long story in Sports Illustrated  about a guy at 42 who never dunked but embarked at a rigorous training expedition to dunk. And he did, eventually. His method? Four or five workouts per week  —  and it took him nearly a year. Not what I want to hear. A well-meaning commenter said that Spud Webb at 5-feet-7 inches can still dunk at 47.

Great.

Mike points to his defender John Talty where he is going to shoot from. That’s called swag.

 

 

Webb, who WON FIRST PLACE WITH A 360 DEGREE DUNK IN AN NBA DUNK CONTEST, can still dunk.

The closest model I have so far is this 42 year-old Sports Illustrated guy who at 6-feet-2 dunked for the first time. Did, did I mention, it took him a year of excruciating exercises?

I started today on my training nonetheless. I went to hot yoga with colleague John Archibald. It was great and I’m going to do it again — if they let me.

As I was preparing to go I realized I lost my glasses. I went back in the yoga room where it was now wall-to-wall people.

Excuse me  I lost my glasses I said as I stepped  over people in twisted poses and contorted faces. Their eyes expressed disapproval. All that and we ended up finding my glasses elsewhere — in the locker.

I have learned something in my research. I need to have ‘swag.’

I think that’s short for ‘swagger.’ That’s a place of supreme confidence that my YouTube watching has taught me that dunkers have swag. Mac McClung, a  viral video sensation in High School,  has swag. The phenomenon of McClung is at least partly a racial thing. He’s white and ‘White Men Can’t Dunk,” as the Wesley Snipes-Woody Harrelson movie  pointed out to America.

To make it all the more interesting McClung, who played for a small  high school  called Gate City in Virginia, is going to Georgetown where white basketball players over the past few decades have been more rare than a yellow cardinals.

But that’s a whole different topic and suffice it to say I am white and I can’t jump. I’m also 58. I also have Lewy body dementia, a progressive brain disease that will likely end my life earlier than I was planning on. So, besides counting down my vinyl records on this website, I will now train to dunk.

I figure I have a good two  years before I finish my records. I credit my blog with being therapeutic, keeping my mind active. The dunk training will be a way to keep my body active.

I’d be lying if I said the disease hasn’t affected my memory and my muscle strength and stamina.

So here am searching for my swag and my glasses.

And I’ve always got the ‘out’ when I show up at Mike’s Madness next year and people start calling my name and asking me when I’m going to show the dunk.

Dunk? I don’t remember anything about a dunk.
Really?

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Dunk or die trying: a 58-year-old man with a potentially fatal disease will dunk y’all (blog version)

It occurred to me the other day that I’ve always wanted to dunk a basketball.

So I’ve decided that by mid-July, about the time of our next Mike Madness basketball tournament to raise money for Lewy body disease awareness, I will dunk.

Bucket list item.

That’s right, I will throw it down on a 10-foot goal. This 58-year-old white man with a brain disease who has never dunked in his life, will SLAM.

Hah!

Colleague John Archibald heard me thinking out loud about this scheme and said, No, you can’t dunk. He laughed. Then he put his money where his mouth is: He said he will donate $1,000 toward  Lewy body research and awareness.

$1,000. Wow.

This man who plays basketball with me –and has half of my 4-inch vertical leap– must have some inside information. Oh yeah, he’s seen me play. My philosophy as I’ve aged is playing basketball without jumping because too much can go wrong when you’re in the air. But this won’t  be in a game.

There’ll be no big players ready to swat it away. I just rise up and BAM. I can visualize it. I can do it if I try hard and believe in myself. You can tell I just saw the Mr. Rogers bio-pic. Can you see Fred Rogers on the court? Soft blue sweater. He might be good. Never judge a book by the cover he used to say.

Despite Mr. Rogers’ well-intentioned philosophy, I have doubts bigger than Shaquille O’Neal,

This is where I need help.

I have several questions:

Does anybody know of anyone over 55 years old who can dunk?

Does anybody know of anyone who trained to dunk, especially later in life and accomplished it?

Does anyone know of someone with Parkinson’s or Lewy body dementia who can dunk. The muscles in my arms are getting weaker from the disease, I can tell. My outside shot has diminished some. But I still have bad days and good days. My legs, I don’t think have been affected strength-wise.

I hear there are machines today that target specific muscles that can help. I don’t want to buy a super expensive machine though especially if it has dubious outcomes. I always have the Y.

I want to dunk. I want to rise u p 8 inches above the rim palming the ball and slam it through.

Dear readers please respond but remember it’s not official yet, until I do a little more research.

Archibald Googled ‘who is the oldest dunker?’ The first answer was 63-year-old Julius Dr. J Erviing can still dunk.

Not sure that gives me much comfort. The best dunker in NBA history can still dunk.

Here’s how I break it down:

Against me: Disease and age.

Favorable to me: I used to be able to grab the rim (about 30 years ago). I am 6 feet and one-half inch tall.

I weigh about 185, having gained about 20 pounds over the course of a year.

I think I need to drop about 15 pounds or more to get to my old playing weight.

I know the odds are long, but if nothing else I’ll get in shape and it will give me another deadline – like counting down my 678 vinyl records at MyVinylCountdown.com .

Speaking of records, it should be a record of some type if I do indeed dunk.

Onward to research. (Typing, typing Into Google.):  ‘Was Mr. Rogers ever able to dunk.’

Slightly different AL.com version here.