COLUMN: These ladies can play, but against a guy?

by RHETT WILKINSON

This is the first installment of Rhett Wilkinson’s weekly diary chronicling his ongoing play on the USU women’s basketball scout team.

    I can’t believe it’s been over a week since I’ve been doing this.

    When asked by the sports staff a couple of weeks ago to chronicle my experiences while playing for the scout team at women’s basketball practice, I jumped on the opportunity. But that’s not to say no hesitations crossed my mind.

    Sure, in July, I had come this close to accepting an invitation from Hartnell College, a junior college basketball team in California’s bay area.

    Sure, once I recognized that the option would have been a bit too expensive for this penny-pincher, I wanted to continue to ‘live the dream’ as a college student by playing the game at a recognizable and showcased level.

    Sure, I wanted to play at the famed Dee Glen Smith Spectrum, but Hartnell College included an actual spot on the roster, with the truth that I would play in the actual games. It promised balmy weather and professional sports at just about every turn, rather than endless walls of snow and the nearest professional team over an hour away.

    And, oh yeah, Hartnell College was a men’s team.

    Now, let’s establish the fact that basketball is basketball. From my little brother’s Junior Jazz team, to Sky View High School, to the disheveled University of Utah men’s team to LeBron James, they all have the same objective: to, as I quote my own high school coach, “put the round thing in the round thing.”

    But could I do that around a bunch of women? And I don’t mean that I would struggle because I wasn’t even allowed to touch a girl for a couple of years, let alone bang around in the post with one for a couple of hours straight.

    Then there’s the other natural trepidations. Will I dominate and look like a jerk? Will I be dominated and feel like a fool? C’mon guys, we all know that man-pride is something that does not like to be messed with.

    After a week’s worth of practices, I am proud, yet regret at the same time, to say that I’ve experienced a little bit of both.

    There was walking into HPER room 209 Wednesday and seeing a blonde woman with obvious leadership skills, not knowing her as head coach Raegan Pebley. Probably would’ve been a good idea to have studied up on that before walking into the gym.

    There was being matched up against sophomore center Bonna Diop, who at 6’6″ is the tallest player on the team. Mental note to myself at the time: “At 6’6″ myself, have I ever encountered a girl my height? Don’t think so.”

    Then there was the thrill of having a play drawn up for me to, naturally, drain a three-pointer off the elbow from a pass from Diop. And, naturally, I jacked it up and didn’t even draw rim, the ball careening to the other side of the court after slamming against the backboard.

    I kept telling myself it was the size 6 women’s regulation ball – as opposed to a size 7, men’s regulation ball – that was the cause for such an atrocity. Couldn’t have been that my Jaycee Carroll-esque form may just be a little bit broken.

    Then came Thursday, and more importantly, The Spectrum. A deep breath on the court amidst its beautiful orange/yellow/random color seats wasn’t quite enough to suppress the thrill. It was just at that moment that I had to remind myself that thousands of students here would love to be doing the same thing.

    Thirty minutes that day after practice to shoot on my own – and to be burned by senior guard Alice Coddington in a dribble-drive drill a few times – still wasn’t quite enough to get me used to that hallowed arena, not to mention to get me used to that dang ball. (At this point I hear the distant voice of Jerry Sloan: “excuses, excuses…”)

    I may have been able to have saved face for the men a couple of times. After playing defender in a post … uh … women’s drill, coach Pebley says to me, “you can try to block their shots, you know.” I gladly took the notice and swatted a few, beginning with – I’m actually embarrassed to say this – a stuff that sent senior forward Stacey Howard to the ground. Yeah, not proud of that. But it was without foul.

    I feel better about mentioning it because, on Howard’s next turn, she promptly took the pass, went straight into my chest full-momentum, powering to the hoop with a nice bank-shot that scored. Admittedly, I did fade back a bit after she had powered forward. The best was when she gave me a victory yell, all in jest, before yielding to the next player’s turn.

    What can I say? The first week has involved its share of thrills and embarrassments. Main lesson learned, week one: these girls are tough.

    Secondary lesson learned: who needs the Bay Area when you can spend that time in Logan helping such a great group nab a WAC Championship this year?

    I guess there is satisfaction to be found in this after all.

But get back to me with that whole shooting-a-size-6-ball thing.

    – rhett.wilkonson@aggiemail.usu