Alley Oop
Alley Oop
Jump Higher with Depth Jumps
Jumping involves a lot of movement for the entire body and if you are able to generate a lot of power then that means, you are also able to jump higher. This is because when your body produces a lot of power, then it increases the power output of your legs and thus you will be able to jump higher as previously stated. Their are many exercises that are specifically designed to do just that, their is one special lower body workout that you will need to do and it will help improve your performance and help you become faster and also able to jump higher.
Jumping is a form of a plyometric exercise
Yes, this may sound so ignorant to post on an article that is trying to help athletes, but the matter of fact is, many athletes simply do not practice jumping, when you should be practicing everyday. We can call this "plyometrics," which is the base workout for many athletes in professional sports. Plyometrics place a heavy load of stress on the joints of the lower body and place stress on the muscles as well. But in return, this will make your legs more explosive and become faster and able to generate lots of energy in a short period of time. This is what basketball or should I say professional basketball athletes are good at doing. How many times do you see Kobe Bryant or another basketball star quickly jumping in the air for a chance to dunk or make an alley oop? This is the kind of explosiveness that you want to acquire when you jump.
Depth jumps is a very beneficial exercise to include to your repertoire
As stated before, any exercise that involves some sort of jumping can be considered a plyometric exercise, even running can be considered a plyometric exercise because your body is leaving off the ground and you are using your two legs to propel you forward and we can say that you are being explosive because you are generating shorts bursts of movement in a short period of time. The depth jumps is a special plyometric exercise because it exactly mimics the movement as if a basketball player was to go for a dunk. Make sure that you are stretched out properly and wearing comfortable shoes when you are performing plyometrics.
How to do the depth jump
1. Stand straight on a platform, the platform should be a foot tall or near that height.
2. While standing on the platform, jump onto the ground with all effort.
3. When you land on the ground, immediately explode up into the air and jump up like if you were jumping from a squat position. Repeat
The depth jump is very beneficial if you wish to jump higher. Out of the many plyometric exercises out their, I can say that the depth jumps will greatly help anyone jump higher within a short period of time. Remember, that whenever you perform any type of plyometric exercise, they should be done on grass to reduce risk of injury.
About the Author
If you are struggling to
jump higher
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How do u defend an alley oop?
on NBA 2K10, how do u defend the alley oop? the computer just throws it over 3 of my guys and dunks it every time. how do i stop it?
To stop it, u need to stop playing the game
Alley Oop
Alley Oop - The Hollywood Argyles
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Ushering at a black comedy show: nothing like it
Something I Said/Ushering at the Kevin Hart show
MN Spokesman-Recorder
Dwight Hobbes
In my mild-mannered secret identity, I usher for a great metropolitan
theater establishment. Step in a phone booth and emerge as a
non-descript, nattily attired entity who, when you're downtown
Minneapolis to the Orpheum, State or Pantages Theater venues, shows
you to your seat, where the restroom is, the bar, generally
facilitating your enjoying the evening. It's a good, gig. Don't take
a degree, just people sense. And beats digging a ditch. Not to
mention, we're employed to attend performances patrons pay to see.
Usually, it's a cakewalk. Well-heeled, well-mannered white folk
saunter in, are courteously attended. Y' get ‘em in, sit ‘em down
with the requisite yes-sir-no-ma'm-thank-you-
please and the world
keeps comfortably spinning. Every so often a black comic comes in.
On which occasions, baby, all bets, quite decidedly, are off. At the
end of such shifts, I promise myself, like a New Year's resolution –
well, what I actually do is I swear to God, cross my heart and hope to
eat a dead frog --- the next time one such show's scheduled, I'm
calling in sick. And, as with most resolutions, I don't follow
through. Truth be told, wouldn't miss it for the world.
Kevin Hart recently hit town at the State. Two shows in one night.
On the face of it, simply a double-shift of putting in a few extra
hours and, of course, earn extra jack. In reality, Hart's humor is,
complete with foul language and frequent graphically sexual
references, ghetto. Before you have a cow complaining about that
word, fact is, in plain English, that's what it is. Call it, if you
will, a cultural thing. Anyway you slice it, Hart, my girl Sommore
and a host of others supply an insatiable demand for crude, rude, real
raucous entertainment. Don't take my word, look it up.
Who comes, paying top dollar for the pleasure? Among other things, an
usher's nightmare, that's who. No way around it, ghetto-oriented
artists get a fair amount of the ghetto in the audience.
Honestly, I was surprised how smoothly the early show went. People
came in, had themselves a good time, then nice and politely went the
hell on home.
We catch our collective breath, gear up for the late show.
Patrons enter. Well-heeled, well-mannered black folk stroll in, are
courteously attended. Y' get ‘em in, sit ‘em down with the requisite
yes-sir-no-ma'm-thank-you-please and the world keeps comfortably
spinning. But, sooner or later, somebody shows they behind. Never
fails. Knuckleheads've had time to put a few Hennessey shots under
their belts. Not to mention puff on herbal stuff. I get, off the
bat, a pure, natural-born pain in the as I live and breathe. It's not
good enough I'm, in the pitch black, trying to get squatters out of
his seats. He flexes. "Well, get the [expletive] out our gotdam
seats!" I tell Alley Oop that if he'll let me do my job I can get my
job done. That pours fuel on the fire. Now, he has to front for his
date. "I don't understand what the problem is. I paid for these
tickets. Put me in my seat." I'd like to call security over and have
them put him somewhere. If he persists, that's exactly what I'll do.
Before he says anything else, I've evicted the squatters and told his
patiently waiting date they can go sit down and enjoy the show.
She's visibly relieved. I make a mental note of the row and seat: if
he's gets out of line again, he's gone.
Before I get two feet, Diana Ross and the Supremes, it may as well be,
converge. Divas, late as hell, demanding to be taken care of five
minutes ago. Not a one has her ticket out. I convince them that even
they must meet the hired help halfway. Don't show me the ticket, how
can I -- well, you see the situation. I get them to their seats.
Should've called in sick.
Out of the fray, in the lobby, I relax, remembering why I didn't take
the night off. Why I never miss one of these shows if I can help it.
I love looking at black women. Adore admiring them. Sue me. Each and
every single time I work a show like this, spend half of it having to
close my mouth so my jaw don't drop on the floor.
Tonight's no exception. A living, breathing sensually seething
panorama. A veritable Amazon, clad in curve-clinging beige of some
kind of material or other, crosses the lobby with more class and style
than might be legal. Going to some other usher's station. That
happens a lot. When one such apparition approaches my aisle, my
idiotically hypnotized gaze changes to a merely cheerful face and I do
my job. They should pay me extra for exercising such remarkably
professional restraint. No lie. In all different shapes, sizes and
manner of dress, there's more wide, swivel-hipped, profoundly
protruding posteriors than a little bit. Plus a great deal of one
spilling out of one's blouse. More than a few pretty faces, too. I
confess to delighting at the sight. Stretch me out on the rack until
I repent my wicked ways.
Bottom line, at the end of the night (actually, by the time we clean
up beer cans, cocktail cups and who knows what else, it's close to one
in the morning), time to go home.
I punch the clock and hit the bricks. Swearing for the umpteenth time
to have a good excuse next time a black comic is in. Lying to myself,
of course. Mixed blessing and all, I'll be there, suited up.
About the Author
Dwight Hobbes has written for ESSENCE, Reader's Digest, Washington Post, Minneapolis Star Tribune, St. Paul Pioneer Press, City Pages, Mpls/St. Paul, MN Law & Politics, Pulse of the Twin Cities, Twin Cities Daily Planet, Women & Word, San Diego Union-Tribune, The Circle, to Minnesota Spokesman-Recorder (where he contributes the commentary columns Hobbes In The House and Something I Said. He's spoken his mind over National Public Radio, Minnesota Public Radio and KMOJ in Minneapolis and St. Paul. Was regularly featured as guest commentator on NewsNight Minnesota (KTCA-Minneapolis/St. Paul) and Spectator (Minneapolis Television Network). His monthly column "Hobbes In The House" in MN Spokesman Recorder comments on domestic abuse and rape. His plays are Shelter - produced at Mixed Blood Theatre by Pangea World Theater, Dues - produced by Mixed Blood Theatre, University of Southern Illinois in Point of Revue, selected for Bedlam Theatre's 10-Minute Play Festival and published by Playscripts, Inc. You Can't Always Sometimes Never Tell - produced by Theater Center Philadelphia, Long Island University, reading at The Kennedy Center and published in the anthology CENTER STAGE, In the Midst - produced by Long Island University, starring Samuel E. Wright. Hobbes spoke on the panel "Farewell To August Wilson" at the Guthrie Theater, broadcast on Conversations With Al McFarlane (KFAI, KMOJ). He has lectured at University of Minnesota and Long Island University. Twin Cities Daily Planet articles archived at www.tcdailyplanet.net/dwighthobbes
Coming: "Angels Don't Really Fly" EP by Dwight Hobbes & The All-Star Hired Guns featuring Alicia Wiley. The crew: Me, Alicia Wiley, Stanley Kipper, Chico Perez, Jeff "Boday" Christensen, Aaron "Orange A.C." Cosgrove and Yohannes Tona. Singer-songwriter Dwight Hobbes recorded the single "Atlanta Children" (BeatBad Records) and gigged 10 years in the Long Island/NYC area, including The Other End, Kenny's Castaways and My Fathers Place. Fronted the Boston blues band Midlight. In Minneapolis, Hobbes opened for David Daniels at First Street Entry, James Curry at Terminal Bar, sat in with Yohannes Tona, Alicia Wiley at Sol Testimony's Soul Jam, The New Congress at Babalu, Willie Murphy at the Viking Bar and Wain McFarlane & Jahz at Lucille's Kitchen. Dwight Hobbes still drops in at the occasional open mic around town.
Alley Oop
