B-ball and stuff

The staircase landing where boys jumped from, landing with a crash and a thud at the bottom in a pile of giggles. (or pain) The rail that assisted tiny legs up or down, or grandparents as age required it. Sliding and swinging off a metal apparatus, the echo as it pinged. Threats of falling over the side, or siblings issuing warning of such fall, per their own doing. ( Never!!)

The tree house made with love from working hands, hammered with the desires of the little eyes watching. Secrets told, plans hatched. Sleeping bags and flashlights, tree frogs croaking just beyond. A safe, warm house that was just within sight. A sanctuary for boys and one girl.
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Where a girl was taught how the game was played. Screeching of tennis shoes on concrete, calls of fouls and "Good shot!" Shoves and broken garage door windows. Camaraderie and some one on one. Cheerleaders from the sideline, sweat on the brow. Where differences no longer separated you. 3 point practice shots. Swish.

The wall where cars scratched along side, leaving paint marks and the resounding " Oops " Where legs swung off while eating Popsicles, and children practiced the Olympic sport of the beam. Where those not in the game sat, waiting their turn. Jumping down, climbing up.