I was hooping with my good friend Killa Keem this past Saturday morning at Supreme Sports Club in Columbia, MD., the very place where I cultivated my weird-looking but effective jumper as a kid.

In the middle of our first run, I had a wide-open look from deep. The ball felt weird coming off my fingertips, but it went in (one of the few shots I made that day). More importantly, I landed awkwardly and felt the sharpest pain ever in my back. I lumbered through the rest of the game, but afterward, I collapsed on the sidelines.

And that’s when I knew my ridiculously mediocre basketball career was done.

Even though I still love the game, I’ve had too many “mind yes, body no” moments over the last couple of years. I also recently lost a 40-yard dash to my 11-year-old daughter. I’d say that’s a telltale sign that I need to quit.

I still plan on finishing out the rest of my over 30-basketball league with the Random Dudes. After that, I’ll ride off into the sunset and focus on being mediocre in another venture: poker.

Also, thanks for the clicks. My fledgling website definitely needs them.