I hail from a poor peach growing family In Springfield, Massachusetts.
One lazy summer day, many years ago, a nice young man from the YMCA came and asked if he could borrow my peach basket.
Well I only had the one, but it was hot and I was ready for a break. So I obliged.
Must have been an hour had passed but the nice young man, Jimmy I believe, hadn’t returned with my basket.
I made my way toward town. Along the path I encountered a local painter who was mad enough to spit nails. Seems Jimmy had not only borrowed my peach basket but he’d also borrowed the painter’s ladder. He hadn’t returned that either!
As the painter and I approached the Y, we discovered the issue immediately. Jimmy and some of his friends were tossing a ball into the peach basket, which was nailed some 12 feet off the floor.
Every time a ball landed, someone had to climb a ladder to retrieve it. Terribly time consuming.
Just then, I had an epiphany. The painter needed his ladder back and I needed my basket. What if I scraped my nickels together and bought a new basket? If I did that, Jimmy could CUT THE BOTTOM OUT of the basket he got from me! No more ladder necessary because now the ball would just fall to the ground!
I must say, I was plenty proud of my innovation, and the painter was glad to get his ladder back.
It was quite a setback financially. We didn’t eat a proper meal for weeks as we scraped together the money for a new peach basket. I’m not one to complain, but times were tough!
One Saturday morning a few months later, we were setting the table for a late breakfast when we heard a rap at the front door.
“Come on in!.”
Much to my surprise, it was Jimmy from the YMCA.
“Mister, I can’t thank you enough for that peach basket donation. You have no idea what it’s meant to me and all the boys around here. This new game is really catching on.
Let the ball drop to the ground…what a stroke of genius!”
I nodded modestly. I wasn’t sure what all the fuss was about, but I was glad he was happy.
”I don’t have any money - YMCA work barely pays the bills - but is there anything I can possibly do to re-pay you?”
I eyed Jimmy curiously. I didn’t know where the idea came from that had found it’s way into my head. With the best and most important ideas, you seldom do.
But somehow, I knew this was right. Don’t ask me why, but I trusted Jimmy. I knew deep in my bones that this was important. Maybe the most important thing I would ever do or had ever done.
“Jimmy,” I said. “I’d like you to teach my son your new game.”
“It would an absolute honor! I’ll start today if you like,” Jimmy beamed.
I called out to the back room where I knew my youngest had been quietly listening to every word we said, “Adolph! Come in here! There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Jimmy gushed, “You won’t regret this Mr. Rupp! I’ll have him home by dark.”
