Honestly, folks, selling a real deal basketball court floor ain’t like flipping some old couch on the corner. Let me tell you, this whole thing turned out way tougher than I ever thought.

The Stupid Idea Hits Me

It all started last winter, right? I was stuck in my garage sorting junk. Boom, right there under the tarp – stacks and stacks of those solid maple basketball floor planks leftover from that community center renovation I helped with years back. Been sitting there forever, gathering dust and maybe some spiders, who knows. Dumb idea pops into my head: “Hey, maybe someone actually wants this stuff? Could make some cash…” Yeah, genius moment.

Figuring Out What The Heck I Had

First step, had to actually see what I was dealing with. Man, it was like solving a dusty puzzle.

• Dragged all those heavy planks out, one by one. My back did not thank me later.
• Tried counting the suckers. Lost track like five times. Needed coffee, big time.
• Measured the square footage with this wonky old tape measure. Took three tries ‘cause I kept messing up the math. Probably cursed loud enough for the neighbors to hear.
• Checked each plank over – looked mostly okay, some dings and scratches for sure, but nothing rotten. Felt solid, felt heavy. Maple, you know?

The “Selling” Nightmare Begins

Okay, figured I had something decent. Put my thinking cap on about how to actually get rid of it.

• Took a couple pics right there in my messy garage lighting. Honestly, probably looked better than it was. Maybe a tiny bit misleading? Okay, fine, yeah.
• Wrote up some crap description online: “Awesome Genuine NBA-Style Hardwood Floor Planks! Maple! Super History! You know you want it!” Total cheese, right?The Fun Begins: Then the messages started rolling in. Man, people are… interesting.
  • • • Got this one dude offering me fifty bucks and a broken lawnmower. Seriously? Piss off.
      • Had a lady convinced I had enough wood for her “entire ballroom.” Tried explaining squares and rectangles to her for half an hour. No dice.
      • The lowballers were ridiculous. One guy offered like ten cents a square foot. Nearly threw my phone.
      • Arranged for this one guy to actually come look at it. Spent all morning moving the planks around so he could see. Dude showed up two hours late, tapped a plank twice with his shoe, mumbled “hmm,” and left. Never heard from him again. What a waste.

  Finally Getting Rid of the Beast

  Was almost ready to just burn it all. Seriously. But then got a message from this high school basketball coach way out in the sticks. Said their gym floor got wrecked by a leak, budget was basically dust bunnies. Felt bad for him.

  • • • Cut a deal that basically covered my gas and maybe a cheap burger. Basically gave it away.
      • Had to rent this huge trailer to get it out to him. Cost me almost as much as I made on the wood. Dammit.
      • Me and a couple buddies loaded that trailer in the rain. Took forever. Wet wood smells weird.
      • Drove hours out to the school, unloaded in their soggy old storage shed. Coach looked thrilled. I felt mostly tired.

  Why Do I Say This Stuff?

  Well, here’s the real kicker. You know that little “profit” I made? Yeah, it went straight into my buddy’s new truck transmission ‘cause the stupid rental trailer hitch messed his up during that rainy loading mess. Cost way more than the wood money. So basically, I worked my tail off, annoyed a bunch of people online, wrecked my buddy’s truck, and ended up right back where I started – except maybe with a little less garage clutter. Total disaster. Would I ever do it again? Hell no. Better off letting the spiders have it next time. True story.