BY ANDREW GREENBLATT

In print | Published January 21, 2010

If showering after games seems like a no-brainer to some of my non-athlete readers, let me dispel some myths. Despite what one may expect, dressing athletically is not enough to make you sweat if you don’t actually play in the game. The 20-minute warm-up period before basketball games provides a pretty decent sweat, but sitting down for an hour or so is good enough for a cool-down, so when post-game shower time comes around, you’re not exactly dirty anymore. At least not stinky enough that you can’t wait till you get back to Swat and shower in the privacy and luxury of your own dorm.

However, showering is a team bonding experience (if you’ve spent any extended period of time with the basketball team you have a bit of an idea of what I’m talking about), especially after a win. And though I’m all about team bonding, showering for no reason other than being naked with your friends isn’t always my favorite thing to do (granted it can be sometimes).

This column comes largely from the last 45 seconds and post-game “shower” from our game at Johns Hopkins on Jan. 12. At Hopkins, I actually recorded a 0+, one of the more embarrassing statistics in sports, which you receive when you get into the game but record less than a minute of playing time. After what I considered my greatest warm-up performance of all time (to a super awesome Kidz-Bop-like warm-up CD created by the Hopkins players), I proceeded to sit on the bench for (almost) the entire game. I went from spraying my wet jumpshot all over the court with extreme focus while “Every Time We Touch” by Cascada blared in warm-ups to intensely watching and mentally preparing myself to play, sustaining my focus on the bench all game. I was pretty much flirting with assistant coach level, making astute adjustments and even changing defenses once or twice while coach wasn’t watching.

Or, I was winking at the ridiculously cute girl sitting alone in the second row on the far side of the gym who was wearing black pants and a dark sweater, trying to get her to notice me in hopes of a post-game conversation, which would inevitably go something like this:

Me: “Hey, how’d you like the game?”
Her: “Aww, it was fun, I’m sorry you lost though.”
Me: “It’s okay. Hey, by any chance did you see the last 30 seconds? I had a nice assist…”
Her: “Umm… kind of…”

After which she would probably walk away, either realizing that I wasn’t freshman phenom Jordan Martinez or noticing that I did not, in fact, shower after the game, but you can fill in the details of this story on your own.

Regardless of which storyline you chose to follow, with two minutes left I found myself still wearing my warm up. I had seen zero game action. At this point, I turned to one of our freshman who also had not played and said these exact words; “There is no way I’m showering after this game…” to which he so quaintly replied, “Me neither.” But literally a minute later, something amazing happened… Coach put me in the game. And literally 30 seconds later something less amazing happened… the game ended. In all seriousness, I made the most of my 30 seconds, making a no-look pass for an assist that would have made “Pistol Pete” Maravich applaud from his grave; this simultaneously gave me enough confidence to talk to that girl (?) and provided Matt Allen (our senior captain) enough entertainment to call shenanigans on my pass, claiming that I only made the frivolously fancy flick just so I could write about it (again, fill in the blanks on your own).

But the real story emerges back in the locker room, where we find our hero actually in the shower. I had convinced myself that there was no post-game shower in my future but it was literally less than a minute of playing time that had me end up changing my mind. Aside from being slimed on Nickelodeon and grinding in Paces, I can’t think of a single thing that can happen in 30 seconds that would provoke a shower.

Did I need to shower? No. So then, why did I shower? Honestly, I’m still trying to figure that out. All of the elements of a truly good post-game shower were glaringly absent. We lost, I pretty much didn’t play, and the shower looked about as scuzzy as 33 on Hopkins. Still, I felt compelled. Whether this is a story about the beauty and meaning of playing in a game and how every second is precious or the unique and mystical lure of the shower, I’m not really sure, but all I know is that something drew me to take all my clothes off and get wet though to my knowledge, Girls Gone Wild was not in attendance.

This leaves me in a precarious position. The basketball team has about 10 games to go, and predicting my playing time is kind of like going to a WNBA game. Since it’s a competitive sport, you can never rule out the possibility of something spectacular, but deep down you know what you’re getting yourself into. Since it’s technically required by my coach that I shower after every game, I could go that route, but it’s clear that I’m not ready for that. I have teammates that have showered even though they haven’t played, but that was reportedly to remove the pre-wrap from their ankle tape (or to use the shower’s flow to hide their tears like my buddy at Marist does). I also have teammates that ditch the post-game shower after recording their Do Not Play. Either way, being in the middle is just plain uncomfortable. I’m open to suggestions.

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