December 1990, I had overslept and got to my men’s league bball game right before tipoff. I was a starter so I went right into the game, no warmups. I was well-rested and really relaxed, in a great mood. Had no time to think or wonder if my shots would fall, felt no stress of any kind.
First play of the game, I hit a foul line jumper, nothing but net. It felt so good, I was elevating easily and so focused because in my mind I was there to have fun. Next shot pull-up jumper in the lane, swish. I didn’t realize guys started feeding me at that point. I had no idea who was covering me, and I don’t even think I looked to see who it was. I didn’t care.
When I finally missed a shot, I came out for a sub, guys were patting me on the back and our coach said, “Billy, wtf was that?” I had no idea what he was talking about. I said, “Whattaya mean?” and he said, “You just scored 15 points in about 3 minutes!” I knew I was doing well but I really had no concept of time or score. Apparently I made 7 shots in a row, the last one being an And1 where I made the free throw.
We won the game but I was very mediocre the rest of the way. So my time ‘in the zone’ lasted all of 3 minutes. I do remember feeling like the basket was right in front of me, and at every release point I knew it was going in.
Psychologically, I tried to duplicate that experience, of being relaxed, carefree, and focused. But I never found myself in the zone again, even if I made a few shots in a row. It just wasn’t that same dreamlike feeling.
About 5 years later, I watched Damon Santiago take over a game at the RAC, including the game winner, and I remember saying to my seat mates, “He’s in the zone, he’s dreaming!” Felt good to know first-hand what that meant, and to share that.
