Last Thursday I finally got around to installing that soft maple basketball floor in my garage. Had the boxes sitting there for weeks gathering dust, but with the kids begging to shoot hoops indoors during winter, I couldn’t put it off anymore.

Unboxing Chaos

Cracked open the first box expecting neat stacks – total lie. Boards were jammed in sideways with shock pads stuffed between like newspaper. Took me a solid hour just to sort them by length and separate the foam rectangles. Pro tip: wear gloves because splinters jump out at you like tiny vampires.

Subfloor Surprise

My dumb assumption? Garage concrete was flat. Nope. Did the marble test and watched it roll straight to the drain. Rushed to Home Depot for self-leveling goop. Spent Saturday pouring and praying it’d dry even while wiping sweat off my glasses every five minutes. Smelled like wet dog for two days.

Assembly Nightmares

• Foam Tetris: Those black shock pads looked identical until I realized arrows on the back had to face the same way. Half were upside down. Had to disassemble the whole first row.
• Board Battle: The tongue-and-groove system felt like forcing stubborn Lego bricks. Smacked them with my rubber mallet so hard the neighbors texted “u ok?”
• Measurement Disaster: Cut two boards too short because I read the tape upside down. Had to hide my shame pieces behind the water heater.

The Click Heard Round the Garage

After three evenings of sore knees and colorful language, that final plank clicked into place. Swept it clean and dropped a basketball – the bounce echoed like a concert hall. Kids sprinted down in pajamas for the inaugural dunk session. Watching them jump and land without that concrete “thud” made all the hassle worth it. Floor gives just enough cushion that my 40-year-old knees didn’t scream the next morning. Worth every splinter and swear word.