I walked in to the park which hosts Dog Show (136th St. bet. B’way/Amsterdam) tonight and a kid screamed out loud, “We love you, Bobbito!” “Good lookin’ fams!” I replied. Last week our squad lost by 12, and the heads on the sideline showed me a lot of support every time I got an assist or scored. Tonight, they weren’t as forgiving, as we lost again, this time by 25. It was rough. We only had five to start, with just one big. I hit my first three 3 pointers and had three assists in the opening quarter, but tournament director “Dog” on the bullhorn said, “Bobbito a.k.a. MSG3″ has been quiet so far.” Well, compared to our opponents’ shooting guard who connected on five treys–all from 27′ and out–and finished with ten for the game, I guess mine was quiet. Plus we were getting waxed. On one possesion, I shot a really poor 360 lay up that hit backboard but never touched rim, which led to a sideline comment, “Yo, you wack, Bobbito!” I wasn’t phased by the heckler one bit. I finished with 16 points, four of six from behind the college three line, and seven assists. But we lost by 25, so it was meaningless.

What does matter to me is that I maintain respect out there and not get played out. After the game, one brother told me, “Tu tienes la magia! (You have the magic!)” because of some passes I made under my legs on the break. Then a group of dudes by the fence screamed out, “Good game, b.” And as I exited the park, the kid who had told me, “We love you, Bobbito!” gave me a pound, and shared, “Tough loss, bro. You played good, though.” I made some mistakes, no doubt, but I walked out there with my head up. I’m thankful for the blessing from God to even be playing still at age 41. Word.

Dog Show games are played every night starting roughly at 7pm. We play again tomorrow, Wednesday, July 23rd, at 7:30pm. Take the 1 train to 138th St. and Broadway and show support!