Last night was picturesque. Thanks to The Beautiful Heth’s willingness to take on the kids’ bedtime routine on her own, I was able to step outside and into the driveway while there was still a little light, and in the stillness of a perfect spring evening, I watched the sky melt away into darkness as 1,007 foul shots melted into the net. I even got a goodnight hug and kiss, and a couple of rebounds, from Rosie at right around the 200 mark. It was just about perfect.
This morning was a freak show.
The steady rain was not a real big deal, more of an annoyance. But coupled with what seemed to me like about a Category 9 hurricane (okay, that’s probably an exaggeration, but I’m just saying …), the ball was generally not going in the precise direction that I might have hoped.
There was one that got no rim but smacked off the backboard. There was another, and I really hope I can find it on the video, that seemed like it got about halfway to the rim and then just turned around and came home, dropping quietly back to earth without giving the basket much of a scare at all. It’s one of the shots below, the less-than-greatest hits from a long, awful morning of shooting.
Be warned, this is not for the squeamish or faint of heart.
As John Coronis would have said, it was fugly.
So … I had planned to go out and put 1,500 in the bucket before the family woke up this morning, but Ma Nature defiantly said no. That being the case, we’ll stick with what we got: 1,007 from last night and 1,000 more this morning, for a total of 252,007 down, 747,993 to go to 1 million made foul shots.