fandomhigh | Interdisciplinary Studies or whatever, Class 5, Wednesday, Period 5

Last week's class was in the Danger Room, which was set up to LOOK like the camp gym. This week's class was actually in the camp gym. This may cause some confusion.

But if it causes anyone to be late, Squall will be angry.

Since he'd been there for a while, Squall was passing the time by shooting jump shots from half court. He made more of them than he missed. And there was a big blue net bag full of more basketballs leaning against the bleachers.

Guess what today's lesson is about?

When everyone had arrived, Squall tossed out the sign-in clipboard. "Anyone who calls me 'Stormy' gets detention," he informed them. "Now. The last few classes have been all about important stuff that might mean the difference between life and death." He shrugged. "They won't, because we don't have enough time per class to really teach anything useful, but I can hope, right? So today you're getting a break. This is something that's very socially important to learn, because if you don't know it, you're a lame-ass loser."

"Think fast." He chucked the basketball at the students.

"So. Today we're learning how to play basketball." Squall shrugged and handed out... uh. handouts. "There are rules. There are specific and complicated rules, and stuff. But we're not going to worry about technicalities. This is a friendly game." He smirked, and grabbed another ball from the bag. "You'll divide up into two teams. The object is to get the ball through the hoop at the other end of the court. Two points for that. Three if you can do it from behind the big swoopy line. When you have the ball you HAVE to always be dribbling" -- which he demonstrated. "If you stop dribbling, you can't move and you have to pass to someone else. That's pretty much it."

He scratched his head, trying to remember if there was anything else. "Oh, yeah. Fouls are bad. Don't foul anyone."

He kicked the bag so that it fell over and balls started rolling out. "Grab a ball. Practice dribbling, practice shooting. If you want, pair up and practice passing. Passing's important, unless your teammates suck."

When that had gone on for a while, he blew a whistle loudly and called them all back.

"Okay, now divide up and play a game. Shirts verse skins. If anyone wants to be skins but doesn't want to take their shirt off, wear one of these." He held up a bunch of 4XL pink t-shirts.

"I'll be the referee. Good luck."

[Wait for OCD or whatever]

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Be like Mike or whatever.

Shoot.

Miss.

Shoot.

Miss.

Drop the ball, pick it up again.

Shoot.

Miss.

Roxas is sensing a pattern here. It doesn't help that the net's about sixteen feet above him.

Maybe he'll just leave the 'shooting' to other people.

Squall thunked him on the back. "AIM, kid. Don't aim for the basket, aim for the square on the backboard. And follow through."

He turns and looks up at Squall.

"Aim for the square on the backboard and what?"

He doesn't really get sporting terms.

"Follow. Through."

Squall sighed.

"Keep your hands and your body moving after you release the ball. You get more power and control that way." He demonstrated, tossing off a flawless shot that bounced lightly off the backboard and sank into the net.

He collects the ball, rolling it in his hands.

"This class ain't like I imagined it'd be."

At least this time when he throws the ball, it hits the backboard. A little to the right of the net.

It's an improvement, though.

Re: Practice shooting

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Ami didn't even bother trying this one.

Squall loomed behind her and coughed meaningfully.

With a sigh, she picked up a ball and threw it. Like a girl. Vaguely in the direction of he hoop.

Squall raised an eyebrow at her. "Do you need me to list off all the many ways that was WRONG?" He sighed. "Get closer and... I dunno. Put some effort into it?"

"I am trying" Ami said. "And if you think your list would help, please do enumerate the failings of that attempt"

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This would be where Gwynn would cause herself to be achey and sore later.

Shoot.

Miss.

Curse.

Shoot.

Sink.

Chase ball.

Shoot.

Miss.

Curse.

Shoot.

Miss.

Curse.

"Good. Keep at it. Practice makes perfect."

Yay for excellent hand-eye co-ordination making up for being only weetiny.

Jo shot, Jo scored.

"VERY good. Go help everyone else."

Setsuna's long-distance, missile attacks had been improving lately, so she was having fun with the shooting. Her record of getting the ball in wasn't exactly perfect, but she at least got the board with each shot. Her form was a little disgraceful, though, but that's what biker shorts were fore.

"Nice. Practice a bit more and then help everyone else."

Okay, when Squall said something complimentary on her dribbling, Setsuna was a little confused. The fact that a compliment came while she was shooting definitely left her confused. The expression on her face showed her confusion , but, after a moment, she nodded. "...Thanks..I..I will..."

Weeeird.

Between his height and general athletic ability, Sam had no trouble sinking some baskets for practice.

"Good. We'll add you to the 'generally good at this' list. Go help some of the abysmal people."

Jim was good at basketball ~~as shown in canon where he and the World's Shortest Anthropologist face off against a bunch of monks on the court. And then those episodes with the Raptors~~. Jim sank every attempted shot except one. Smug? A little.

Squall patted him on the shoulder.

"Congratulations on not sucking today."

"Thanks, I try," Jim snarked.

Molly kept overshooting the basket. After she got the hang of how far to toss it, she spent a good bit trying to perfect her aim. She hit 1 out of 5 shots.

Squall nodded. "Good. Keep it up."