My Weird Pandemic Obsession: Learning to Dunk, by Aram Mrjoian

Before this era of isolation, I was in the habit of playing basketball once or twice a week with a group of creative writing friends at Florida State. I am the last pick, not particularly athletic, with basketball skills long stunted by a hesitance to play after my younger brother outgrew me. He is four years my junior, 6’ 3” to my 5’10,” and has consistently crushed me at one-on-one since he was in middle school. The easiest way to assure he didn’t dunk on me was to avoid the court.

Today, with this poof of isolation hair, I might be half an inch taller. I’m nearly thirty-one years of age. The campus gym has closed indefinitely and so have those squeaky courts where undergrads outplayed me, even if I made up for it in hustle. All this alone time would perhaps be an apt opportunity to learn the fundamentals of the game. I could watch some tapes and read up on strategy. Instead, I’ve spent my early mornings on a less practical skill—the slam-dunk.

Limitations of height and age aside, a lack of gym equipment has proven a challenge. I’ve turned to the backyard, rising at dawn to cycle through sets of deadlifts, jump squats, and lunges. I hoist chunks of tree trunk we saved from hurricane Michael for firewood. With each week, the circle of lawn I’ve stomped to dirt expands. At its grassless center, I do countless split cycle jumps, ankle hops, jumping jacks, anything to get those muscles moving. I block the dog-walkers and joggers on the front sidewalk, where I jump rope three or four times a week, and you can find me at the courts two blocks north—the park service has removed the rims to encourage social distancing—leaping over and over to touch the barren plain of the backboard. The odds are against me, but I spend my hours, solo, fighting for those extra inches, reaching for that rarified air.

Aram Mrjoian is a writer, editor, instructor, and PhD candidate at Florida State University. He is an editor-at-large at the Chicago Review of Books and Southern Review of Books, the assistant editor at the Southeast Review, and the managing editor at TriQuarterly. His writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Cream City Review, Boulevard, Gulf Coast online, The Millions, The Rumpus, Hayden's Ferry Review, Longreads, Joyland, and many other publications. He earned his MFA in creative writing at Northwestern University. Find his work at arammrjoian.com.