At Jordan's last Upward practice, my husband (the coach) had the 3rd and 4th graders play against their dads.  It was great fun.  The dads were so much bigger that they could block with their legs.  They were jumping up and down like monkeys while guarding and basically just slapping the ball around and slam-dunking (on the nine foot rim).  

The boys took it so seriously at first.  They were as aggressive as Tazmanian Devils out there, but the dad's kept goofing off.  One dad put his son on his shoulders so the kid could dunk, and my husband stole the ball and dribbled across the court while carrying Jordan under his arm. 

Then one boy fell on the ground and started crying.  When the dads stopped to see what was wrong, he jumped up, stole the ball, and made a basket while calling them all, "Suckers!"  After that the kids lightened up.  Another boy kept having the ball stolen while he dribbled so he just picked up the ball and ran for the basket laughing hysterically all the way.  

It was a blast to watch--and a memory I know they will never forget.  Now my job is to make this story into a poem for Chicken Soup for the Basketball Lover's Soul.  Any ideas?