Why My Middle Name Isn't "Grace"

All this basketball around our house reminds me of a time long ago.....
Looks off into distance as light dims....
Where I grew up, our school had intramural sports for the girls. We were all required to do it. Some girls were just better at it than others. Okay, ALL the REST of the girls were better at it than I was.
We had volleyball, basketball and track.
Tonight is about basketball. The other two are also painful, but I can only handle one bad memory a night.
Calendar pages flip back to 1980's.....
Now, you've got to understand that there wasn't much in the TV department going on for me. It was kind of frowned on to be watching it, let alone owning one. This really cut back on my understanding of HOW to play basketball. I never really watched the game much. I knew it was invented by Dr. James Naismith involving peach baskets. I knew you wanted to get the ball through the hoop.....and you'd better be careful because after halftime, you SWITCH BASKETS.
That's about the extent of my basketball knowledge. Plays? Calls? What??
I'd already nearly reached my adult heighth at this point in my life, so my job was to stand under the basket to catch rebounds. This usually resulted in calls like "Rattay all over the body!" Aren't we supposed to try to get the ball away from the other players?
"Rattay reaching in!" I was just knocking the ball away from the other player!
My nerves were shot BEFORE the game even started. What stupid thing will I manage to pull off tonight?
I must say that I always tried my best. But sometimes "best" is what I do on the bench.
Mr. Yockey, my coach, could tell I tried but was seriously lacking in the athletic department. Hence, the standing under the basket to catch a rebound.
But it got confusing because sometimes it was NOT okay to stand under the basket. Mr. Yockey would yell down the court, "Bonnie, move around! Move around!" I would....always with my hands up in the air. That's another thing people were always yelling at players to do. "Get your hands up!"
Another one of my "positions"? Throwing the ball in from the side. And ALWAYS throw it to Cindy (Brindisi-Simpson). If I ever got the ball, I was to throw it to Cindy.
A few times, somebody accidentally passed me a ball and I CAUGHT it! I was half-panicked, not quite understanding the whole double-dribble concept. "CINDY!!" I would yell. She always got open, and I could pass to her. Shooooo...
My dribbling was unique, to say the least. To this day, I can't dribble without holding out my left hand as if protecting myself from a side attack of some sort. My wrist is held down and pinky up. Yeah, I know....I'm a sissy girlie-girl.
Picture that dribble and a panick-stricken look as somebody passes me the ball to make a fast break to the other side of the court.
There I was, all out in the open, no one around me, running and "dribbling" like there's no tomorrow.
I was thinking, "Oh, no, if I miss this lay-up EVERYBODY'S going to laugh". I was wrong, though.
As these thoughts were racing through my head, I tripped over MY OWN FEET. I caught myself and kept going. I TRIPPED AGAIN, recovered slightly, TRIPPED MORE, and careened wildly across the floor taking a swan dive before the final face plant.
"Oh, THIS is what they're laughing at". I was right this time.
Mr. McNeilly, the referree, blew his whistle so he could regain his composure. I've never been so embarrassed in my life. Wait a minute, yes I have....there's volleyball and track, too.
And THAT is just one of the many reasons my middle name is not "Grace".