Nine years ago, I wrote about my daughter missing every single shot when she competed in the Elks Hoop Shoot during gym class.

That brought back memories of me doing the same thing in the same Kennedy Elementary Gym. My daughter’s gym teacher, though, was probably more understanding than mine was, and that’s too bad.

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I believe I was in third grade when I missed all 10 of my shots when John “Skeez” Sullivan did not hold back in his critique of my effort.

It wasn’t that I missed all the shots that brought out Mr. Sullivan’s sarcasm. It was the fact that I took so long to do it.

Before each shot, I did a flip with two hands, tossing the ball out with backspin so it would come back to me. Then, I must have dribbled 10 times or more before I released each shot.

“C’mere,” Mr. Sullivan said, waving his arm after I missed my final shot. “How many shots did you make?”

Mr. Sullivan wasn’t looking right at as I shot, but he had a way of watching out of the corner of his eyes. So, he knew the answer to the question.

“I didn’t make any, Mr. Sullivan,” I responded.

“Now,” Mr. Sullivan said, with his voice ticking up in pitch. “You didn’t make a single shot, but you wasted everybody’s time by bouncing the ball around like that? Why would do that?”

To that, I had no answer, and I felt pretty silly.

That, though, is not a reflection on Mr. Sullivan, who was our Monday gym teacher. He was much stricter that Steve Donaldson, our laid-back Friday gym teacher.

While Mr. Sullivan’s class wasn’t usually as fun as Mr. Donaldson’s, we learned so much from Mr. Sullivan. For instance, to this day I can still juggle.

I am far from a clown — though many might find that statement debatable — but I juggle well enough that I was always able to impress my three children, my nieces and my nephew.

When I missed every shot and wasted so much time, I felt like I let Mr. Sullivan down. I didn’t want to do that ever again.

For the record, I did. I can think of two instances right off the top of my head, but I’m sure there were more.

One came when I accidentally let out an audible “phew” when I didn’t get paired with the non-athletic girl during a game that included tennis balls. Mr. Sullivan sent me to stand in the corner, and he threw tennis balls at me on my way.

He missed with each throw, and at the time I was sure that he missed on purpose.

The other was when he caught me cheating in a game of dodgeball. I didn’t think he was watching, but he was. He didn’t call me out until I finished second in the game.

To this day, I am glad Mr. Sullivan called me out on both of those. He should have, and I learned my lesson.

It should be noted that — at best — I tied the non-athletic girl in the Hoop Shoot the year I wasted everybody’s time. She probably could have let out the same “phew” when she wasn’t paired with me.

In both instances, that was not the person I wanted to be, and thankfully Mr. Sullivan drove that point home.

So, I started practicing shooting baskets. When I went down to the Elks when my dad played handball, I started actually shooting baskets instead of running around and playing.

Over the years, I became a pretty good shooter. I could knock down 3-pointers, and I had a really nice base-line jump shot.

That is, I was a good shooter when nobody was guarding me. A defender changed everything.

Still, I fancied myself a pretty good basketball player, and I played the game for a long time. Even though I might be the only person to get cut from the basketball team at Butte Central and Butte High, I loved playing basketball.

I played in the KC basketball league, and I played pick-up games all the time when I was at school at the University of Montana. In those pick-up games, I would usually knock down some 3-pointers because everyone played All-Star game defense, which is to say they didn’t play defense at all.

Now, I referee basketball because I still love the game, and I remember how much I enjoyed playing the game growing up.

That love for hoops started with the Elks Hoop Shoot. 

It wasn’t travel ball that got me playing, because there was no such thing as travel ball back then. It also wasn’t elementary school basketball. 

The Hoop Shoot is what got me bouncing the ball and shooting hoops. It was the Hoop Shoot that got me to go out for the school’s fifth-grade basketball team when I was in the fourth grade.

Without the Hoop Shoot, I might not have played basketball at all.

The Butte City Shoot is Saturday at the Maroon Activities Center, and my brother Don is in charge of running it. I will be one of the volunteer workers.

Unfortunately, the gym teachers in town no longer conduct the qualifying Hoop Shoots for the students. In the past, every student in Butte’s grade schools was exposed to the Hoop Shoot. Now, only the kids whose parents sign them up get to compete.

You can call or text my brother at (406) 490-8668 or email him at dfoley71@yahoo.com by Wednesday to sign up. I encourage you to do that for your boy or girl between 8 and 13.

They just might fall in love with the sport, too.

One year after I missed all those shots, I got a second chance at the Hoop Shoot. This time, I was ready because I had been practicing. I wanted to impress my teacher.

I didn’t make all the shots, but I made most of them. In fact, I made enough that I beat everybody in my class — including that non-athletic girl — and advanced to the City Shoot at Montana Tech.

Mr. Sullivan gave me a nod of approval, and it felt so good.

This time, I didn’t waste everybody’s time.

— Bill Foley, is good at wasting other people’s time, can be reached at foles74@gmail.com. Follow him at twitter.com/Foles74. Listen to the ButteCast on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or wherever you find your favorite podcasts.