Game one started out fairly crisp, then deteriorated to a brick fest. The two teams—a collection of men who could be your older brother, uncle, or grandfather—traded a salvo of ugly shots and turnovers.
Layups were missed, rebounds bungled. The cluttered floor spacing would make a coach weep. Somewhere, the ghost of James Naismith likely shook his head and wished he'd never seen a peach basket.
But then came a moment of pure hardwood magic. Chuck, a six-foot-five-ish man in his late 40s and the husband of a Johns Hopkins staff member, threw a gem of a half-court outlet pass to Bill, a 67-year-old history professor and modern China expert, who shoveled a toss to Ralph, a white-haired, goggled astronomer, for an uncontested game-winning layup. That's victory, one university–style.
Now who's got next? Because here, there's always another game.
Read more on The Hub.