Airball

An air-ball. That was the reward I got for hours at the street court, gallons of sweat, and pounds of unfinished homework. I winced as the shot was thrown too far left and bounced against the ground. I ignored the rolling ball and sat down on the cold bench nearby, wiping my forehead with a hand-towel.

I could no longer ignore the facts: I was bad at basketball.

You
e probably thinking: Being bad at basketball isn all that bad. Or maybe: Not everyone can be good at basketball. Maybe you just haven found your thing yet. But you just don get it. Not that I would expect you to. I mean, so far youve only read less than 100 words about my entire life.

You just don get it. You see, I did find my thing. Basketball is my thing. And I was good at it. I played middle school basketball for South Miami Middle School. And not to brag or anything, but I was pretty good at it. I joined the team after moving from Charlotte, North Carolina in 6th grade, became starting point guard in 7th grade, and by 8th grade I was the team captain and MVP of the team. It was incredible. I mean sure, it was middle school basketball, but I had finally figured out what I wanted to do with myself. I had figured out what I was good at. Unfortunately, last summer, all of that changed.

I was hanging out, as I often did, with some of my friends from the team. That day I was with Cam, Nathan, and Max. We were tired from that days burning heat and had given up the game of street ball, so we decided to go by the year-round, inside ice-skating rink. The four of us were all racing each other when I got too far ahead of myself and slipped, immediately falling down. Of course, it wasn uncommon to slip while ice skating, especially at those high speeds, but when I had fallen I had tried bracing myself with my arm. I had read somewhere that that was a bad idea, but it wasn like Id had time to think about it. It happened instinctively, and before I knew it, my whole weight had crushed my arm, breaking it badly.

At the time, I wasn too worried. I mean sure, it hurt for a while, but I had suffered much worse injuries before and Im told by the doctor I have a high tolerance of pain. So, after a while with a brace, my arm had pretty much completely healed—on the outside. However when I went back to basketball for the first time in a couple months last month, I discovered that I was awful at it. At first, I thought it was just because I hadn gotten warmed up in a few months, but soon I realized I had completely lost my touch. I was no longer good at basketball.

As of yet, I have only told one person of this realization. Ive kept it from my old team members and my dad (who probably wouldn care anyway). The only person Ive told about this was…

”Blake! ”

…now running toward me.

It was Austin, one of my closest friends since I moved to Miami. He ran all the way into the street court and halted only when he was a few feet away from me.

”Blake, you didn reply to my text! ” he panted.

I pulled out my iPhone and checked the messages.

”Found potential double date, ” I read the text aloud. ”Reply quickly. I can send pics. ”

Austin smiled encouragingly.

I raised an eyebrow. ”You can send pics? ”

Austin nodded. ”From their Instagram. ”

”So you
e stalking them? ”

Austin thought about it, but shook his head. ”Not stalking, ” he said. ”Just observing. ”

I cracked a smile. ”I see. ”

”So? ” Austin asked impatiently. ”You in? ”

I locked my phone and stuffed in back in my sports bag. I stood up from the bench and turned to Austin, who stared up at me, waiting for an answer. Austin was and had always been the shortest kid in all of our classes. I, being a basketball player, had always been one of the tallest, at least in middle school. I really wasn that tall compared to most of my friends, because I was around average height. I felt sort of bad for Austin, but he never seemed to mind being short. I made jokes all the time about his height, and he seems to think they
e funny. But that doesn change the fact that I put anyone who picks on Austin in their place immediately.

”No, ” I answered. ”I got some homework to wrap up. Besides, I already told you Im not looking for a relationship. I don have time for that. I gotta focus on more important things. ”

Austin frowned. ”Look, I get you
e not into dating like I am, but knowing Blake Manson really gets you places around here. Youve got influence around here, like it or not. ”

”Well, you won have to worry about that for long, ” I said, ”because Im not gonna be a basketball prodigy for long. ”

”Come on, youll get back into the hang of it this season! ” Austin said. ”You know you will. ”

”No, I won , ” I replied. ”Im not even trying out this year. ”

I tried to walk past Austin, but he stopped me.

”Wait, hold on! ” he cried. ”What do you mean you
e not trying out? ”

I sighed. ”Look, middle school basketball was great. But I don know about high school basketball. Especially after my arm. I think its time I move on and find something else Im good at. ”

”You
e good at basketball! ” Austin exclaimed.

I chuckled. ”Have you seen me play basketball recently, Austin? ”

”No, ” Austin replied. ”I haven . All Ive seen is someone who hasn fully recovered from an injury. Blake Manson hasn been on the court since last season. ”

To be fair, Austin had a decent argument and was only trying on help me. But he was getting annoying.

”Ive made up my mind, ” I told him, brushing past him and heading on my way home.

”Wait! ” Austin called after me. I kept walking. ”Are we still on for 2K tonight? ”

I flashed a quick thumbs up and walked on home. My southern Miami home was a nice open area, with a comfortable living area in front of the kitchen and dining area. The steps were on the right when you walked in, and they were open so that anyone on the steps could clearly see someone down below. They led up to a hallway on the left with bedrooms on either side. On the right was my dads old work space. My sister Olivias room was on the left of the hallway and mine was on the right. There was also a guest bedroom and my dads bedroom.

”Coke me, son, ” said my dad from the couch when I walked in the door.

I walked to my dads mini-fridge (which was only a couple feet away from him anyway), and fished out a coke, tossing it to him. Then, before he could ask me to do anything else, I turned and rushed up the stairs into my room.

In my room, my little sister was frantically playing a game on my laptop.

”Hey, Liv, ” I said, walking into the room and sitting down on my bed. Liv was the only person in the house that I cared for. Sure my dad put food on the table, but he was always so distant. I couldn even tell you if hed ever even seen me play basketball before. He never came to any of my games, and so Id eventually stopped inviting him to or even telling him about the games.

”Oh, hi Blake! ” she said. Liv paused her game and looked back at me pleadingly, knowing what I was about to say. ”Come on, Blake, can you and your friends do that thing later? Please? ”

She thought that, like every night, my friends were waiting for me on the Xbox.

”Liv… ” I warned.

”Fine! ” Liv exited out of her game and started to sulk out of my room. I reached over and tickled her under the arms as she left, to show that I wasn mad at her. She giggled and sprinted down the stairs laughing. And I wasn mad at her, I just wanted to be left alone for awhile.

So I wasn going to get on Xbox with my friends. Not yet, anyway.

A few minutes later, I found myself re-watching my games from last year. They had been sent to my drive as a parting gift from my coach, and I had already watched them too many times. But I couldn help myself. It wasn like I was full of myself—it was the opposite if anything. For some reason I just had a problem with letting go.

”And there he goes! Manson gets the rebound and throws it down the court to Luke. Luke dribbles around an opposing player and bounces it back to Blake who lays it up! Ill tell you what, those two are unstoppable! ”

I laughed. Austins commentating was more fun to the spectators than the game. I fast-forwarded the clip.

”Blake dribbles it up the court. The Wildcats lead 32-18. Blake passes to Max, who looks toward the basket and… nope! The look is gone. He passes it up to Cam, who sends it back to Blake. Blake pulls up from behind the 3-point line, and… yes! It swishes in, no competition about it! ”

Now for my favorite game, the one I had watched the most. The championship.

”Its intense now. Im not actually sure if I can legally record this, but its going down here. The other team, the Whatever-Their-Mascot-Iss are leading the Wildcats, 65-63. Unacceptable. Theres 30 seconds left in the game, but Ill be damned if we
e going to go down like this! Weve worked so hard for this championship, and we
e not giving up now! By we, I mean the people who are on the team and have actually put work into this, by the way. Blake and Luke toss it back and forth to get it past the half court line. They seem to be looking for openings, gaps in the defense, but they can seem to find any. Last time, the Whatever-Their-Mascot-Iss beat the Wildcats by ten points, our only loss for the season. Thats not gonna happen this time! ”

Cheers can be heard in the background from the people listening to Austin.

”Blake fakes a 3-pointer, passes to Luke who goes for the jump shot… no! Hes blocked by Number 13! The Whatever-Their-Mascot-Iss have the ball now and the Wildcats struggle to beat them down the court. Their point-guard passes to… oh! The pass is intercepted by Blake with 19.3 seconds left on the clock. Blake dribbles down and hands it off to Luke who puts it up for two! The game is now tied! ”

The cheers grew louder and sounds from the refs were inaudible at that point.

”Number 18 shoots and… darn… two points for the Whatever-Their-Mascot-Iss. Theres only 7 seconds left in the game. The Wildcats need to do something, and quick! Blake takes it and dribbles it down again. Theres no one Id feel more comfortable with having the ball right now. Hes looking for an opening desperately. Hes going to have to take the shot though. The defense on him isn letting up but theres only a second left and he goes up for the far back three and… ”

The buzzer went off and everyone went silent. I knew what happened next. The silence was broken. I had made the shot. It had been the best moment of my life and I could still remember the way I felt. Like I belonged, like I had found what I was meant to do, where I was meant to be. I wished everyone could experience that, if only just for a moment. Life had seemed so perfect then. Now I knew deep down that there was no way that I would make it on the team this year. I probably wouldn even try out. But for some reason I still would go to the court after school every single day. I couldn help it. There was something inside me that I couldn quite put my finger on. I just need to figure out what it is.