When I was growing up in Pittsburgh, one of my happiest days was when my neighbors, the Malarkeys, paved their driveway and put up a basketball hoop.
I would spend day and night practicing and playing hoops. Except when the Malarkeys would have dinner (they would politely ask me to take a break).
Since, I get bored easily, it wasn't long before I started to practice trick shots. I would shoot it behind my back, off the wall, off the hill, etc. This came in handy, since one of the games we played, was called HORSE. Where a player had to match the other players shot. If they missed, they got the letter H. Whoever got to HORSE first, lost.
Anyway, I got to so good at my crazy trick shots, that I got the nickname, Pistol. (named for Pistol Pete Maravich who was famous for his unique style of basketball). The unusual part of the story was that Mr. Malarkey was a basketball coach and he was friends with Pete's father Press.
Later in my life, I learned more about Pete Maravich and his life. It is an amazing story (stay tuned).
Fast forward to 'today'.
I still practice my trick shots. Some of the guys at the YMCA comment about my crazy shots. They haven't nicknamed me Pistol yet (maybe, because they are too young to know about him).
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