I was on the way to the parking lot when I saw the boys practicing basketball at our school playground. So I decided to drop by and watch a little.
Some of them already have the moves while some have the potential, just needing more polishing on basics and fundamentals.
And then somehow, the ball bounced towards me. I picked the ball up and weighed it with my both hands. It’s been a while since I held a basketball. But despite that, I know I can play the game. I can shoot.
The boys were enthusiastically asking for the ball, literally racing. But I didn’t throw it back at them.
Instead, I aimed at the hoop, squared my shoulder, jumped high, and then took a shot at the top of my jump with a slick follow-through in the end.
The kids were awestruck. “Mr. P, you’re good!”
I shook my head and let out a chuckle. Because, it seemed like it was the first time they saw someone shooting the ball correctly.
And because I missed the shot.
I asked for the ball again, and they complied. I did the same thing: aim, square, and jump. I thought, to make this shot, I needed adjustments. The kids were watching intently. And there was a moment of silence. When I released the ball at the top of my jump, I heard them in unison: “Wow!”
But I missed the shot again.
But I got the kids excited. They wanted to copy my form. So I let them play and watched them copy my moves. When they got tired, they asked me to shoot again.
And I did. Seven more times. Seven more times, I shot it correctly: Aim. Square. Jump. Shoot. Follow-through. Adjust. I took a total of nine shots, and made only two. What a horrible percentage, The kids probably though that I stink!
But the kids did not. They actually wanted me to stay a little longer to play with or against them even though they knew I was simply going to kick their butts.
They saw something in me that turned them into believers despite my failure to deliver: I was shooting it right every single time. It didn’t matter that I missed a lot. I was making necessary adjustments. They saw that I knew my stuff, and it’s only a matter of time before I get my rhythm back. And when that happens, they are going to think I’m better than Kobe Bryant because I already have built a good first impression.
I always want a good first impression, and I do it not because of others, but because I want to feel better about myself. What do you think I would feel if my students think my shot looks funny if I tried to be flashy?
Overdoing is not my thing, and if I did that I’ll screw my shots. That’s the reason why as much as possible, I want to keep it simple by not doing things beyond my comfort zone.
And when things are not going my way? I adjust. I’ll probably jump a little higher or release the ball with a softer touch when I take a shot.
Simply put, here’s the formula I follow to making a lasting first impression:
* Make an effort
* Don’t overdo
* Make a follow-up action.
The kids are going to have a practice this week, and if I feel like joining them, I’ll make sure that the first impression I gave them was not a fluke.
——-
Since I talked about basketball, I’ll back it up with a 30-sec video. Watch me (#4) making the winning shot during a basketball tournament, summer of 2006. It earned us the last spot for the Finals, and we won the Championship eventually. Special thanks to our close friend, Elmer Karaan, who taped this game and was also the announcer:
“Saedel with the shot…. Yeah Baby! Yeah Baby!“
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Just goes to show you that even when you do everything right, you can still miss that shot! Good story.
You’re the man!!!!!
Nice story and it is awesome that you gave some of yourself to those boys. So important for men to participate with boys.
@Jeni, yup.
But I’ll still continue to take the shots correctly. 
@Elmer, Nope you’re the man! Thanks for taping it and for giving me a copy!
@Vic, thanks. I think the kids like it a lot when I join them so I’ll definitely play with them again.