These grannies take it to the hoop

"My mom thinks we're not trying hard enough," says Jean Weymiller, 75, of Harpers Ferry. "She says she wants to get the basketball herself and play."

Ms. Weymiller's mom is 96-year-old Muriel Adeline Cooper. She no longer plays. But Ms. Cooper's original 1920s bloomers – locked away for years in a hope chest – were used by a seamstress to design the new outfits.

Granny basketball was unveiled in 2005 – four teams played in a "state tournament." Now, between 80 and 100 women play on eight teams. Games are played at least once a month. Practices are weekly. There are even exhibitions. The grannies have appeared at fundraisers and at half time of women's college games.

Rawson and her sisters play for the Center Point Curvaceous Chicks. Arlene Wear of Center Point is 79, her age matching her number. She's a tough defender, arms raised, sliding side to side.

Marj Baetty, 72, of Atkins, is a demon under the basket, even throwing an elbow to grab a rebound.

"I have a tendency to run and jump," Ms. Baetty says. "Old habits die hard."

Virginia Roths, 71, of Cedar Rapids, plays in the center, tracking the ball with her eyes. Ten years ago, she was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. "Getting together with us girls, having the right medicine, this has been really good for me," Ms. Roths says.

A fifth sister, Bertha Rhinehart, 74, of Coronado, Calif., plays whenever she's in town. "When it stops being fun, we're going to quit," Baetty says.

But fun – and sisterhood – is what this is really all about. At a recent outing in Alburnett, a small town just outside Cedar Rapids, the grannies played in the school's main gym while a girls' volleyball tournament was held in a smaller gymnasium. Throughout the afternoon, teens peeked into the main venue and watched the grannies in three games.

"I guess that's what we'll look like in 25 years," one teen says, snapping a photo.

Before the opening jump ball – actually a coin flip, remember, no jumping – the Cedar Rapids Sizzlers took to the court to the sounds of Richard Gere crooning "Razzle Dazzle" from the musical "Chicago." The Sizzlers strutted and waved plastic necklaces. Des Moines Car-X came out to "Sweet Georgia Brown," the theme for the Harlem Globetrotters.

Dozens of other grannies came down from the bleachers, gathered in a circle and held hands. And then they sang the "granny anthem," which began: "Far Across The Fields and Farmlands, And Our Rivers Blue."

It was sweet. And then, game on.

Cedar Rapids was led by a 72-year-old, white-haired spark named Betty Vieman, who enjoys nothing better than warming up for a game by tossing a watermelon-sized medicine ball.

After caring for her ill husband for seven years – he died in 2003 – she needed something to do, to reengage. Ms. Vieman, of Ellsworth High Class of 1953, went back to playing basketball. She broke her nose during an early practice. But she stuck with it.

"This is a hard game," she says. "In the 1920s, the gyms were a lot smaller."

The fourth quarter ended with Cedar Rapids and Des Moines tied at 17-17. Nobody knew what to do. There had never been an overtime period in granny basketball.

So they made one up. Four minutes. The teams traded baskets.

They were tied at 19-19.

"Let someone else play," Vieman says.

Game over. Cedar Rapids forfeited. And everyone left the court with a smile.

No sore losers around here. These are grannies, after all.

Page: 1 | 2