The night before a game, sleep doesn't come easily—especially when you're playing in the morning. Adrenaline? Anxiety? Anticipation? You wake early, at an hour that feels like catching the first flight out. And this day will be just like that: a journey, an encounter with old friends and strangers, all of us dreamers gathered for the second match of the Puglia-Molise baskin championship. Our team: the Delfini Baskin of Monopoli.
Sara had started dreaming first. "Hey Vivi," she said over the phone, "at Fede e Luce's national gathering for young people in Fano, we met Edoardo, a guy from the Milan community who's been playing baskin for years. What if we brought baskin to Monopoli?" That first conversation led to a long road. After the dark months of COVID, after talking it over with friends from Fede e Luce and with the Delfini Monopoli Basketball School, we finally launched a real team. More than that: after fifteen months of work on the court, just a few weeks ago we made our debut in the Puglia-Molise championship organized by EISI (Italian Inclusive Sports Federation).
Baskin—inclusive basketball—lets people with different physical and cognitive abilities play competitive sports without condescension or gender divisions. People of different ages, sexes, physical abilities, cognitive capacities, and sensory abilities playing together in perfect harmony: a new vision of competitive sport, a new approach to community. Nearly an experiment: all the players are in the team's WhatsApp group.
Today Lecce Basketball School visits us, MoBasket - Delfini Basketball School Monopoli, for the second match of the season. In their blue travel uniforms: Alice, with her curly hair, and the legendary coach Daniele Michelutti. Among us, I watch the Zazzera family with admiration. I mention them because, as longtime supporters, they shatter every record in this game: Matteo referees on court, Carlo keeps the scorebook, Angelo sits on the bench as tutor, and Chiara cheers wildly from the stands. Incredible.
In our first match against Corato, we had about thirty-eight players on the roster; Monopoli turned out three hundred spectators. For the second game, the gym fills again, and we want to spread joy. The players push beyond their limits, let themselves be carried along, jump, run, hold their ground, do things we'd only glimpsed in practice. Compared to the Corato match, eight new players take the court—Zichen, Roby, and Vito even score baskets! In the past week, Raffaele and Angela joined to help out: between cheering and pitching in, they look like they've been with us forever.
Read also: Our Baskin Home
We play well. Aldo sinks a beautiful basket, Domi a spectacular tap-in; midway through, we take an extra ten minutes to rotate six more players. Time passes, the score holds steady—this time in a very friendly spirit. It's an official match, but we adapt everything thanks to the wonderful referee Daniele Scotch Vergine and our friends from Lecce, equally amazing. Among them, Olga scores from the protected area: the crowd erupts, and she thanks them with a little bow. We watch happily as the gym stays full till the final whistle: we owe homage to every player here, thank them all, and run to give them a heartfelt high-five.
Living in community, even a small part of it, means building a more just and inclusive society. Now we hope to start a second team, expand our tutors and volunteers so we can coach better on court. Challenges are part of sports: we believe we can do it. As a youth basketball coach and national baskin instructor for three years, I'm deeply proud of what we've built, and I hope every basketball club opens a baskin section.