Making the Cut in the Life of the Mac-Attack

**In my last blog entry, I mentioned that Melinda had made me a surprise before I got on the airplane. However, I forgot to reveal what the surprise was. It was a batch of fresh-baked cookies. I repeat: a bag of fresh-baked cookies.

And now, onto the latest episode of "A Day in the Life of the Mac-Attack"

"Mac!"

Ben was knocking on my front door at 6 in the morning on a SUNDAY!

"Ben, it's 6 in the morning, and on a Sunday."
"It's try-outs day."

He was referring to the basketball try-outs for the West Coast USY Basketball League. Ben and I were appointed to play/coach Team Arizona. I named Ben the Head Coach and myself as the Assistant Coach. Of course, it didn't constitute being woken up at 6 AM on a Sunday, especially when try-outs weren't until FOUR!!!

"Try-Outs aren't until four, Ben."
"Yes, but as coaches, we have to start setting up early."
"THIS EARLY????"

Ben looked embarassed.

"Sorry that I yelled. I know you're really excited about this. Come in and have a cup of coffee."
"I've had three already!"
"Well, come in while I have a cup of coffee. God knows I need it."

Ben and I came into a nearly empty house.

"Parents aren't up yet?"
"Darrin had Regional Choir in Flagstaff this weekend, so the 'rents and JT went up with him."
"So you've had the house to yourself?"
"Almost to myself."

Just then, Melinda came down the stairs in nothing but her robe.

"What's with all the noise? It's 6 AM!"
"It's just Ben, baby."
"Oh, hello, Ben. So nice of you to join us so early in the morning!"

I get a kick out of my girlfriend's blatant sarcasm.

"As I explained to Mac, it's try-out day. I figured we'd get an early start."

Melinda gave Ben a weird look.

"I also woke up at 5, and was creeped out because I was alone. My parents are in Cabo for their anniversary."
"I didn't think your parents' wedding anniversary was until January?"
"Different anniversary."

Melinda got the hint and decided to not ask any more questions.

"Well, since we're all up, I'll make some pancakes while my two favorite coaches talk business."

She kissed me and then went into the kitchen.

"Do your parents know you've been having sex all weekend?"
"Nope."
"Cool. Anyway, I've recieved profiles from 25 athletes who would like to try out."
"Good, we'll only have to cut 10 people."

Ben didn't respond.

"You do understand that we only need 15 players, right?"
"Yes, but what if we had 25? We could have 5 different rotations."
"Yes, but half the guys wouldn't be getting any playing time. Three rotations is all we need."

I could tell that Ben didn't like the idea of cuts, and it was obvious why. Freshman year, he tried out for the basketball team at Deer Valley High, and while he was easily the best player there, he wasn't what they were looking for. He lost his spot to a kid who had donated $5000 to the athletic department. The kid wasn't even that good...in fact, he was very bad. The point is, Ben didn't even touch a basketball until we played at the USY Presidents' Retreat last weekend.

"Do I necessarily have to be the one that makes the cuts, Mac?"
"Well, you are the head coach. I can take notes, but it's ultimately your call."
"Are you sure?"
"Ben, I'm positive."
"Then...can you be the head coach?"
"Ben, there's a reason that I named you head coach. You know more about basketball than anyone I know...plus, the most organized form of basketball that I ever played was in Coach Nasty's P.E. Class."
"But I don't know if I have the heart to tell someone they aren't good enough. It could ruin their lives!"
"Ben...it's a USY Basketball League. Nobody is going to be heartbroken if they don't make it."
"I just don't know if I can do it, Mac. I never thought about the possibility that I'd be cutting someone; I don't even know how to go about it."
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. In the meantime, let's look at these profiles and see if there's anything impressive."

For the next ten minutes, we looked through several of the athlete profiles. To be quite honest, I wasn't impressed by any of them. Here's a little sample:

Benji Gold of Congregation Am Yisroel: Played from the time he was 5 to the time he was 9. Then they raised the hoop the following season, so he quit.

Elijah Stein of Congregation Am Yisroel: Never played basketball a day in his life, even in P.E. He was, however, a very big Phoenix Suns fan, so he figured he could copy whatever it was that they did.

Thomas Rabinowitz of Temple Beth Zion: Played a huge role for the basketball team at North Scottsdale High...as their waterboy.

There were 22 other profiles that were not unlike these profiles. I was praying that their try-outs would speak for themselves, but I wasn't sure it would work out that way.

Ben and I arrived at the newly designed basketball court at Temple Beth Zion around 3:30. We set up cones and stuff, got our clipboards ready, and prepared for what could be a very painful process.

As the athletes began piling in, we instructed them to take some shots until everyone arrived. So far, the athletes were short, scrawny, and couldn't dribble.

"Hey, Coach, what are the chances that we'll have to cut all these kids?"
"God, I wish there were more black Jews. At least we could have a shot."

When all 25 athletes were there, Ben blew his whistle and everyone took a knee.

"Welcome, USYers!"

Most of the athletes were breathing heavily from the tough work-out of shooting lay-ups for 10 minutes.

"Okay then. I'm Ben Sheiner, Player/Head Coach. To my right is the legendary Mac-Attack Maccabbi; he will be the Assistant Coach."

Generally, I would've gotten a huge applause because I'm the Mac-Attack and all, but all I heard was the sound of asthmatics using their inhalers.

"Just so you guys know, Mac and I will be playing, so we really only have 15 spots on this team. 10 of you will be cut, but don't be sad if you are. I was--I was cut once."

Ben seemed to be struggling with his words. The tears began to come.

"Excuse me for one minute."

He walked away and sat on the bench.

"So, um, we're gonna run you guys in some basic drills. In an hour, we'll scrimmage. Ben and I looked through your profiles, and they were--um--interesting. So, first we wanna see your shooting, so we'll start off with a nice game of bump-out."

When Ben was done crying, we observed the very slow game of bump-out. Don't get me wrong, there were a couple high points, but it wasn't going too well.

"Hey, Mac! This isn't fair. Thomas used his ball to bump mine all the way over there!"
"Benji, I'm gonna explain something to you...it's called BUMP-OUT!"
"Oh, is that where the name comes from?"
"My goodness gracious."

Once the game of bump-out was over, we put the athletes in groups of five to see how they would handle themselves on the court. Each group was unique, so to speak.

"Hey, Thomas, pass the ball!"
"We're not even in the same group!"

Just then, I got a call from Tara Hudson, the President of West Coast USY/the person who recruited Ben and I to head up Team Arizona.

"How's the try-out going?"
"Do you want my honesty or do you want bullshit?"
"Honesty."
"There's 25 athletes, we plan to cut 10, but I'd love to cut ALL OF THEM!!!"
"Why couldn't you have given me bullshit???"
"Tara, there are NO good athletes here. You know some USYers in Arizona; couldn't you just make some calls and have people show up?"
"Not a bad idea...but I just got a better one."
"Care to share?"
"Good rhyming, and I won't share. You'll figure it out for yourself."

At that moment, Tara hung up the phone and I was unsure of what to do next.

"Benji, get your finger out of your nose! Elijah, get your ass up and stop sitting in the middle of the court! And, Thomas, don't even get me STARTED on your laziness. SHOW SOME HUSTLE!"

Before we knew it, it was 5:15 and time for the scrimmage. We decided to give the Bad News Bears a little break first.

"Unless Lebron James converts to Judaism and becomes a member of USY, we're gonna be the laughing stock of the league!"
"Well, at least you and I are on the team. They could always just pass to us."
"We can't be in the game the entire time, Ben. We do have to coach."
"This is a disaster. You'd think that as big as the two USY Chapters are, there would be some athleticism. Please, God, send us an angel."
"At your service, Coach Sheiner."

Ben looked up and saw that an angel was sent in the form of our overweight friend Brian Berg.

"B, what are you doing here?"
"I got a call from El Presidente. She said you needed some reinforcements."
"Since when do you play basketball?"
"I don't...but they do."

At that moment, B pointed out a group of exactly 15 USYers who looked like they were worth something. I had met most of them before, but there was one familiar face that really stuck out.

"Hey, Coaches."
"Sam?"

Sam Bernstein was beautiful and recently single, but more importantly, she had long legs and looked like the type to have a killer jump-shot.

"Alright. Show us what you got."

Sam went up to the three point line and made an easy shot.

"I made Varsity my freshman year at Desert Strip High in Vegas."

Ben's jaw dropped.

"Hey, Coach, are you gonna stare or are we gonna play some basketball?"

Ben, still shocked, blew his whistle and sat down Nerds Incorporated.

"So, um, you guys put a great effort forward today, but I think I'm gonna take the team in another direction. Thank you for your time, and I hope you all will root for us at our first game against Team Vegas."

The Arizona Misfits struggled to get up and leave.

As soon as they were gone:

"Okay, so we won't be making any cuts today, but we will be evaluating all of you on your skills. There are only five people on the court at a given time, so we need to have a couple different rotations going. I'm Ben Sheiner, the head coach. This is Mac-Attack Maccabbi, the Assistant Coach."

I got the applause that I didn't get the first time around.

"Okay, Team Arizona. Let's scrimmage. Show us what you've got."

For the rest of the day, nobody missed a lay-up, nobody had an asthma attack, and everybody understood what "shooting from the perimeter" meant. After the scrimmage, Ben and I treated the team to pizzas over at By the Slice. I knew that this was just the beginning of many victory parties for Team Arizona.

Sincerely,
Mac-Attack