Hey I know it's just a song but it's spice for the recipe

So I went to an all-boys Catholic high school. Our school was mainly white. As such, my senior year our entire basketball team was white. We were nicknamed the "Caucasian Invasion". That being said, no one on our team could dunk really well. A few of us could do the basic one hand dunk. One kid could jump pretty well and two hand it consistently. Most of us dreamed of flying through the air and hammering it home.

One day we got the bright idea to lift each other to dunk. What we did was jump in between two people who would lift you as you jumped. The end result was a gain of about two feet on your vertical. It was amazing. Windmill dunks were still hard, but possible.

Everything went well until our backup shooting guard decided to go one last time. One last time was right. As he jumped he get pushed upwards by two people. One of those two people pushed a little more than the other. Ok ... a lot more. "Chops" went two feet higher than normal and four feet sideways.

There is something awe inspiring of watching someone be eight feet off the ground and completely horizontal. In your mind they freeze there, then slowly glide. As they begin their downward arc, life fast forwards through a horrific crash. Chops did not move. Eventually we groaned a little. Then he got up. Then we laughed a whole lot. Chops got mad at the kids that threw him, but in the end was fine.

I can still picture him. Arms and legs akimbo, looking like a cat falling towards iron with a giant magnet strapped to his back. Needless to say ... we never did that again.