The grip. The control. I am loving it. Touching the grip, the little dots that bulge out of the basketball. Basketball. My favorite sport. Having control is my precision taking the ball to the hole is my destiny. It all starts with me walking in the gym. I slam the door open, like I own the place. And I do. The most important part is to be on a good team.
We warm up as a group. Taking shots and showing off our skills. All eyes of audience are on us like eyes on superstars.. The eyes seeking the amazing. I take a shot for being the team captain and I make a three as easy as 1, 2, 3. I choose my players wisely. “Hey, you!” I shout pointing at a tall monstrous guy. He starts pulling a wide smile. Everybody knows you need a tall guy on a team to be successful. All the rest of the players are being chosen and then the game. I love the game.
They start out with the ball because I had the first pick at the players. As they take it in, Kevin, the tall kid, puts up a block and slams the ball to the floor. “Get out of my house!” he screams as usually in the opponents face looking proudly in his dark eyes. The rest of the game goes by quickly, and we easily win. Making some threes in the beginning made us the leaders of the game, after those shots it was our game. Ours.
The scariest moments in the game for me are the ones with most pressure. Moments that take your breath away. Buzzer beaters! The game was almost over. We were leading big time but the buzzer beaters were always the most exciting and stressful moments in basketball. We aim for them.
When the time came to take in the last shot I wanted to pass the ball to someone else on my team. Looking around wildly. I couldn’t find anyone open. I tried to pull my thoughts together. Then I shoot the jumper. I feel myself lifted off the floor, high in the air. A guy is running at me and is putting up a block, and it’s a huge block. I feel my body in the air so I finally let the ball fly. In. In. In. YES!
We have won. This is what I call a good game. A game called basketball…