He dribbles the ball, once, twice. "Now from the three point line", he thinks aloud. His leather shoes are not fit for play, and neither is his brown coat, but then the court was empty, and it's a chilly evening of January. Absolute solitude. You can't pass on such opportunities when they present themselves.
Aim, jump, shoot, cheer. Not perfect, he thinks as his shoes touch the concrete pavement, but it did the job.
"Yeah, yeah", he says with a sly smirk, still trying to catch his breath. "Still have it". The slowly rolling ball the only witness of his sportsmanship.
3 successes