How depressing it is when the day finally comes when your kids start beating you in basketball. Well granted, there are no Pistol Pete Maravich's in our blood lines but this little buggah took me to school. We shoveled out the area near the garage where the basketball hoop is and he and I had this nice little game of one on one. There was no bouncing just air dribbling. I couldn't hit a shot if my life depended on it. finally, the game came down to the next basket would win it for me and he would have to hit a three to beat me...wellllllll, the little bastard swoops to his right and throws up this ridiculous shot into the air. I turned around figuring i'd have to go into the snow bank to get the ball (where alot of my shots were going). My eyes popped out when I saw that ball flying through the air...swoooooosh, nothing but net. You shoulda heard the trash talking going on.
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