I wish I was better. Basketball is so much fun. Like a sort of ballet. I can only sit, watch. Court-side seats, an unexpected gift. I played a little, once. In my younger, fitter years. But I can’t play now. My knees would swell up. And jumping is… certainly ill-advised.

It seems some strange magic. Manipulating the ball that way. How they move so swiftly. And the dunks, my word! They may well be wizards. I can only sit, watch.

The concessionaire hawks his product. His voice thunders over cheers. Security removes a lone figure. He got caught scalping bull. I saw him outside, earlier. Trying hard to sell tix. Quite the maverick, this one. Trying to net a profit. Security wouldn’t abide that jazz. He tried to play cavalier. But he was quickly nixed. Now my mind does wander. Spurred on by these events. Who was the first one? The first to scalp tickets? Strange kind of trail blazer.

The game is over now. I’m outside of the stadium. A pacer drives by me. Not firing on all pistons. The beep of a horn. It’s an impatient Uber driver. Delivering food from Burger King. Whopper, and maybe some nuggets. Drives off like a rocket. Cold food is no good. Fast food needs the heat. A lone dog barks, angry. He looks sort of grizzly. Like a large timber wolf. Tough, like a canine warrior.

I see a lovely woman. She looks like Karen Filippelli. Cans and trash whirl about. A strong wind blows, easterly. Moves at a steady clip. Her eyes meet my own. We agree to get drinks. Her first name is Lake. Her smile is so delightful. The light of two suns. I sit, content, attention: rapt. Or, so it would seem. The bar bill shows up. We spent maybe 60 bucks. I leave 76, er…77. I forget all about basketball.