Positive reinforcement

It all started when I was at a cookout last summer. I was sitting, along with some of my childhood friends, around a firepit.

We began reminiscing about our days playing basketball. As young teenagers, we would play in the summertime from late morning until after the sun went down and we couldn’t see the hoop any more. Fortunately, they didn’t install lights at those courts until we were in college or else we may never have left the courts. It also probably explains why I got diagnosed with melanoma when I was 32.

I was a decent player. I always thought I had the potential to be really good if I had started a lot earlier like the kids that played on my varsity high school team. Those kids had played organized basketball together since CYO days when they were 7 or 8. Their parents were mostly ex-jocks who had played high school sports in their day. There was also the typical community politics that went into being chosen to play on teams. If I didn’t make the varsity team it wasn’t like my parents would be storming into the coach’s office complaining.

So I was good enough to play junior varsity basketball my junior year of high school. That was the first time I ever played any kind of organized basketball with referees, a colorful digital scoreboard, and a crowd watching. My first game I ever played was my best. I came off the bench and scored 12 points, making my first four shots. I may be slowly losing my memory, but I still remember the feeling of me jumping in the air from just inside the foul line on that first shot, thinking I had thrown up an air ball, and then seeing the ball swoosh through the net and hearing the crowd cheer. I knew the girl I had had a crush on ever since middle school was one of those people cheering in the stands. It was a great feeling, especially, the next day, when she acknowledged my existence and turned to me in geometry class and said, “Good game last night.”

We trailed by two points in the closing seconds of the game, and the coach called a timeout and drew up a play … for me to take the last shot! Sadly, there was no storybook ending as my three-pointer from the top of the key clanked off the right side of the rim. It would also be the only game my father and brother ever watched me play. Of course, the only mention my dad would make of the game was that I missed the last shot. My brother, on the other hand, said he didn’t realize I was that good and that he was proud of me. So that was cool.

Anyway, my senior year I was the last person cut for the varsity team. Like I said earlier, politics played into it, I like to think. The kid that beat me out for the last spot had played with the other guys on the team for years, and his dad was a pretty prominent member of society. I felt like I was better than that last kid that made the team and was surprised, and upset, that I got cut. There were a couple other guys who made the team that I felt like I was better than. I was definitely better than the coach’s son who made the varsity team as a junior. This kid was shorter than me and weighed probably thirty more pounds than me. He couldn’t get much more than a few inches of the ground. But he was the coach’s son.

Good to know that I am over that, right?

Now back to this cookout last summer. My friends were commenting about how I had a “sweet” shot, meaning they liked my form when I shot the ball. I always thought I had a bit of a funky corkscrew type shot, but they were like, “No, you had a nice jump shot.”

I was skeptical and mentioned how some people told me back then that I shot weird. Then, as I held my beer and stared into the fire, I mentioned how I wish I could have seen myself shoot and judged for myself.

The next day I was thinking of this conversation as I was sitting alone at the park and, again, thought to myself I wish I could have seen how I shot the ball. Then it hit me. Of course I can see how I shoot. I could have my girlfriend film me on her phone and then I could see for myself. Oh wait. Even better - I don't have to subject my girlfriend to that. I could film myself on my own phone!

I was so excited by the idea I immediately put on my best basketball gear, dusted off my basketball sneakers, and headed to the court. When I got there, I propped up my phone on a rock, made sure I had the picture framed right, and hit the record button. I would then take a few shots and go back to the phone and hit “stop.” I repeated this a few times and was fairly happy with the results, but annoyed at the camera angles, and that I had to walk to the phone to start and end the recordings.

After a few days of complaining about this to my girlfriend, she mentioned I should get a stand to hold my phone and a remote so I could activate and deactivate the record button from wherever I wanted. Genius! It was one of those times I felt like an old man because I didn’t realize there was technology as obvious as this.

So I anxiously awaited my Amazon delivery, with the stand and the remote, to arrive. When it did, I immediately headed to the basketball court again. I was happy to see no one was there as I did my setup. I don’t know why I was embarrassed. Kids nowadays do this all the time. They have no problem filming themselves in public for Tik Tok, Snapchat, or Instagram videos. But I was no kid, and I come from a generation that thinks you are full of yourself if you film yourself.

I filmed myself shooting three-point shots numerous times in short segments. I surprised myself by realizing how much I enjoyed reviewing the videos afterwards. Ninety-nine percent of the time I deleted the videos because I missed most of my shots. But, every once in a while, like a blind squirrel finding a nut, I would hit three, four, and one time five shots in a row from beyond the three-point line. I would trim down those videos to save only the shots I made.

So what wound up happening was I began having a string of videos saved on my phones of all my best shots. I found myself in the morning - when I was feeling depressed and having a hard time getting out of bed - watching these videos on a loop. What would happen is I would, suddenly and miraculously, feel inspired to get out of bed, brush my teeth, put in my contact lenses, put on my shorts, tank top, and sneakers, and head to the courts to make more videos to see if I couldn’t make six shots in a row today.

What I came to believe is that, instead of feeling narcissistic for watching myself over and over, I found it extremely therapeutic to watch myself succeed by continuously watching myself make shots.

Even more narcissistic, I would film myself playing with no shirt on and take freeze-frame shots of myself in certain poses which I found showed any muscles or any hint of a six pack. Now this I had a bit of a harder time explaining to myself, but I did. I began noticing the progress of my workouts - a form of “before and after” pictures. I began filming myself again this spring playing basketball and I noticed a significant improvement in my body from last year - a little more trim and definitely more toned.

So the thing I learned is that it is okay to be narcissistic. Take advantage of technology to exploit getting that outside perspective - be able to see yourself from other people’s point of view. You can judge for yourself. Last year, I was able to see for myself that - despite thinking I was in decent shape - I was, in fact, a bit pudgy and overweight. I had love handles. My chest was a little too bouncy for my liking. I had man boobs instead of pecs.

It was good to see myself this year and that my hard work has paid off. I had gone through phases during the winter months when I got into lifting, doing the treadmill, and doing a lot of crunches. It was good to be able to see the results. It inspires me and motivates me to keep going and see what I will look like at the end of the summer, or next year, or the year after that.

Even more importantly, I find that watching a string of videos of me just making shots does something to my mindset. Just watching shot after shot go through the hoop on an endless loop stirs something in my subconscious. Watching me succeed over and over builds up my confidence. It tells me “I can do it. I am not a failure.”

For all those reasons, go out and film yourself doing something you do well. It could be doing a cooking video, an exercise video, karaoke, doing impressions, playing video games, taking a hike in the woods, or just talking to yourself. Sometimes I don’t feel like writing in journals, so I will just do a quick video journal - record myself just letting out my feelings and emotions as I sit in my car at a park. It helps later on to go back and experience first hand what I was thinking at certain moments. And it also helps to watch myself succeeding over and over again at times when you feel like you can do nothing right.