My mother was always present at my basketball games, faithfully attending each one. It was certainly not to see me show my basketball abilities. She liked the company of the crowd, liked sports, and was very involved in our lives in a supportive way. Although I considered myself a rather average player, looking back, I might have been better than I believed at the time. The enclosed suburban world I lived in placed an excessive emphasis on sports, making it necessary to possess at least some level of skill to navigate through. Regrettably, I lacked enthusiasm and performed with mediocrity. The high school coach once noted in my annual report card, supplied by the private school, that I needed to enhance my aggression on the court. I also had a tendency to get in ball-grabbing incidents where I ended up bruising my knees on the floor. I had many more bruises than points that year, if I had even a single point in that boys league. My parents kindly explained that my lack of success was due to the intense practice of other children in the area.

One fortunate night, I managed to make a basket. However, it came well after the buzzer had signaled the end of the game, and I was fully aware of it. In fact, the shot wasn't even close to the buzzer, but well after it. The referee acknowledged this by waving his arms to indicate the invalidity of the basket. Amidst the crowd, I distinctly heard my mother's voice, a yelp of protest, exclaiming, "No, no!" She stood at the far end of the court, passionately advocating for me. Even though clearly not a basket, she was advocating full force, arguing with the ref who had to go to the bench to explain. At that point the memory dims out, me probably slinking back to the bench.

Approximately 55 years later, I shared this memory with my 99-year-old mother, highlighting her unwavering support for me. At that point, I did not know if she fully grasped what I was saying, but she did seem to smile, recognizing, registering, and internally reminiscing about her distant, over-the-top display of ferocious protectiveness.