Well, I’ll tell ya, talkin’ ’bout them NBA players from Pennsylvania, it’s like lookin’ at a big ol’ cornfield – some stalks grow taller than others, some ain’t got much corn on ’em, but they all from the same patch of dirt, ya know?
Now, they say there’s a whole mess of ’em, seventeen at the start of this past season, 2023, they say. Seventeen! That’s a lot of fellas dribblin’ and shootin’ hoops. Makes ya wonder what they feedin’ them kids in Pennsylvania, must be somethin’ special, like them vitamins my grandson takes, makes him jump around like a grasshopper on a hot skillet.
- I heard tell of this fella, Kobe somethin’ or other, Bryant, that’s it. Folks say he was somethin’ special, shootin’ guard, small forward, whatever that means. Number 33, they say. He ain’t playin’ no more, though. Guess he got tired of runnin’ up and down that court. Can’t blame him, my knees hurt just thinkin’ about it.
- They got this other bunch, the ones playin’ now, 2024, 2025 season, but they can’t seem to find ’em. Like hidin’ in the cornfield, I tell ya. Maybe they ain’t so good, huh? Or maybe they just moved on to other things, like farmin’, good honest work that is.
Then there’s them old-timers, the ones who used to play, the “former” players they call ’em. Pennsylvania’s got a whole bunch of them too, scattered all over like chickens in the yard after a fox gets in. They say there’s so many they got ‘em in categories, subcategories even, hundreds of pages, can you believe that? Must be a lot of history there, like them old quilts my grandma used to make, each one tellin’ a story.
Some folks get all fancy, talkin’ about “Hall of Fame” and “superstars”. Sounds like somethin’ from a movie, all them bright lights, must be harder to see than shootin’ crows in the early mornin’ sun. I reckon the best ones, they’re the ones that work the hardest, the ones that don’t give up, like that time my mule got stuck in the mud, took me and the whole family pullin’ on ropes to get him out.
There’s this Penn State place, they send players to the NBA sometimes, but not too many, not in the first round anyway. They drafted some in the second round, but not so much lately. Last time was 2023. Sounds like they need to work on their game, huh? Maybe they need to practice their shootin’ with somethin’ heavier than a basketball, like a sack of potatoes. That’ll build up them muscles.
And then there’s them Philadelphia 76ers. They been playin’ in somethin’ called the Wells Fargo Center since 1996, but they been around since 1966. That’s a long time, longer than I been married, and that’s sayin’ somethin’. They even won three championships, whatever that is. Must be like winnin’ the blue ribbon at the county fair, somethin’ to be proud of.
So, there ya have it, a whole bunch of basketball players from Pennsylvania. Some good, some not so good, some famous, some not so famous. But they all from the same place, that patch of dirt I was talkin’ about. And that’s somethin’, ain’t it? Just like them ears of corn, all different, but part of the same field. Makes ya proud, even if ya don’t know a slam dunk from a chicken cluck.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I gotta go feed them chickens. They’re squawkin’ louder than a referee’s whistle, and I ain’t got time to be sittin’ here jawin’ about basketball all day. But it’s good to know Pennsylvania’s got somethin’ else besides good farmin’ land, even if it is just a bunch of fellas runnin’ around with a ball. They keep themselves outta trouble, that’s the main thing.
