Well, let’s yak about this young fella, Za Morant. He plays that basketball, you know, the one where they bounce the ball and throw it in the hoop. Folks seem to like watchin’ him do it.
He’s a real springy young’un. Seen him jump high, real high, like he got springs in his shoes or somethin’. And that ball, he makes it go where he wants, most times. Dribbles it fancy, too. Folks call that “skills,” I reckon.
Heard tell he got hurt some time back. But he’s back now, runnin’ and jumpin’ like nothin’ happened. Tough kid, that Za Morant. Reminds me of my old mule, always ready to go, even after a rough day in the fields.
They say he’s a “star.” Means folks like to watch him play, I guess. He’s got that “flash,” they say. Makes the game excitin’. I don’t know much about that “flash” stuff, but I can see he’s got some pep in his step. He ain’t just loafin’ around out there, that’s for sure.
Saw him the other day on that there… telly-vision. He was jumpin’ and shootin’ and runnin’ all over the place. Made my head spin a little, all that movin’ around. But the crowd, they were hootin’ and hollerin’, so I figured it must be somethin’ special. He done dunked that ball, they call it. Looked like he wanted to tear the whole rim down!
Now, I ain’t no basketball expert, mind you. I’m just an old woman who’s seen a thing or two in her time. But I can tell you this, Za Morant, he plays with somethin’ fierce in him. He wants to win, you can see it in his eyes. Reminds me of my chickens when I throw them feed, all scrappin’ and peckin’ to get their share.
Folks say he’s got “explosive dunking.” That just means he jumps high and throws it down hard, I think. He sure can get up there, that’s for sure. Seen him flyin’ through the air like a bird, then BAM, the ball goes in the hoop. Makes a satisfying sound, that BAM. Like slammin’ a screen door after you’ve chased the flies out.
- He’s fast, like a greased piglet.
- He jumps high, like a startled cat.
- He’s got that “dribblin’” thing down pat.
He had a game not too long ago, against them Dallas Mavericks, they said. Didn’t win, poor fella. But he played hard, I heard. That’s all you can ask, really. Can’t win ‘em all, that’s what my grandpa used to say. He was talkin’ about chickens mostly, but I reckon it applies to basketball too.
He sure has some skill, that’s for sure, makes it look so easy. Reminds me of buttering warm bread, all smooth and effortless. They make it sound fancy, all this “hand-eye coordination” talk. To me, it just looks like he knows what he’s doin’ with that ball. Like he was born with it in his hands.
And he’s “risin’,” they say. Like a loaf of bread in the oven, I guess. Gettin’ better all the time. That’s good, I reckon. Always good to see a young fella makin’ somethin’ of himself. Especially when it involves jumpin’ and throwin’ balls. Seems like a good way to make a livin’, better than farmin’ anyway.
Anyways, that’s my two cents on Za Morant. He’s a good basketball player, as far as I can tell. Jumps high, runs fast, and throws the ball in the hoop. What more could you want? Now if you’ll excuse me, I got some chores to do. These chickens ain’t gonna feed themselves, you know.
So, if you’re lookin’ for some excitin’ basketball, go watch Za Morant. He’ll show you some dunking, some dribblin’, and some of that “flash” stuff they all talk about. Just don’t expect me to explain it all. I’m just a simple old woman, tryin’ to make sense of it all.
This basketball star, Za, keeps on playin’ and folks keep on watchin’. And that’s about all there is to it, ain’t it? Now, where did I put my glasses…?