What is so fascinating about sitting around watching a bunch of pituitary cases stuff a ball through a hoop?
Nothing there but basketball, a game which won’t be fit for people until they set the basket umbilicus-high and return the giraffes to the zoo.
If you meet the Buddha in the lane, feed him the ball.
I haven’t been able to slam-dunk the basketball for the past five years. Or, for the thirty-eight years before that, either.