Girls Have Brighter Hoop Dreams

From The Sacramento Bee

The other day I saw two little girls playing basketball. Their shoulders were barely wider than the ball and it took every ounce of body weight to propel that large orange mass a mere two feet in the air, I couldn’t help but smile.

It wasn’t that their struggle with the ball was particularly endearing or cute, it was that I realized those two little girls are growing up in a world where a women’s professional basketball association isn’t an anomaly. It’s a wonderful thing.

I ended my college basketball career a mere two years ago with a final tug at my tube socks and a last pointy plunge of my elbow in my opponent’s back. It was 1996 and still there was no WNBA. I stepped off the court after 12 years of competitive basketball and had nowhere to go.

I’m grateful these little girls do. And they don’t even realize it.

Sure, it’s not too late for me. I’m younger than many of the athletes in the WNBA.

I could hit the gym hard for the next few years and take to the track to stretch out my lungs in a series of burning sprints. I could dust off the old high tops and put in eight-hour practice days, hoping to make it to the W...N...B...A.

 But that’s not my dream and it never was. Because it didn’t exist.

Dreams grow with us over time, and they’re built from possibilities.

I started playing ball in red Converse and pig tails with aspirations to someday play at the college level.

I never considered the WNBA because it wasn’t available for wishful thinking.

 So I grew up’ with different dreams. Dreams and goals that never included basketball after college.

So now, even though the opportunity is there for the WNBA, it’s a jolt to my system after years of pursuing other goals. I can’t undo the dreams that

grew up with me, even while I gathered up my gangly limbs to practice my hook shot in junior high ... knowing full well that if I

ever made it to college ball; that would be it.

And it was. And I’m glad my days of basketball are over, but I’m not sure if that’s because I never thought farther than college and thus, made other plans.

It doesn’t matter now. But, as I watched those two little girls struggle with that basketball, I’m thankful that they have the possibility to dream a little higher and shoot a little farther.

Even if they never touch a basketball again, the possibility of the WNBA exists, and for some little girls, college basketball is no longer the end of a dream.

I remember my mom telling me stories of her high school gym class. When they played basketball, they were only allowed to play half court. Half the girls played defense at one end, while the other half played offense on the other.

There was no opportunity for the real, sweaty, scuffling, bruising play of women’s basketball. And I felt sorry for her.

But, you know what? She didn’t care.

Without the possibility there is no dream. Without the dream, there is no disappointment.

The disappointment, only comes from the next generation, who cannot comprehend the lack of opportunity that came before them.

And so I’m excited for those two little girls, and for all the new female athletes lacing up hightops and tightening their ponytails for the first time. And I wonder what missed opportunities lie in their generation that will surface for the next crowd of little girls with big dreams.

The possibilities are endless. It’s a wonderful thing.

Joelle Babula is a Tahoe World reporter. She was a power forward at Chico State University.