Getting Back in the Game

My favorite thing in the whole universe is basketball. If you asked anyone in the whole highschool or anyone in the world that knows me to describe my life in one word they would say basketball. Basketball was what I lived and breathed, until this happened:

 During my junior year which was last year, I was leading the team in the normal warmups that we do before every game. This was our last game of the season and we had won all of the others so we were pumped. We ran and stretched like always then started our passing drills. Everyone was looking like they were in great condition and I knew that we were going to win this game no problem. The other team was a joke, their whole team together made about two out of every ten layups while we didn't miss one. Our free throws were amazing along with our three pointers, what I’m trying to say is that we had this game in the bag. Not to brag or anything but I was our best player and I could have won that game solo. 

The ref blew the whistle so we all went over to our bench for a pep talk from our coach. “Listen,” he said, not sounding as confident as we did, “don’t underestimate these guys. I want you men to give it your all.” Some of the guys started laughing and I couldn't keep my smile back. 

“Coach, just look at them. We got this,” said one of the guys. Before our coach had time to answer the refs called for the captains, so I had to go. The ref explained the same old rules but the other captain seemed to be paying attention like it was life or death for him. I thought this was very funny but I couldn't laugh because it would be extremely rude. After the rules were explained and we shook hands we went back to our benches to take our warm up jerseys off. 

The other starting players and I walked out onto the court and got ready for the tip off. I was one of the tallest so I was put in the middle to try to get the ball to our team. The ball was thrown and I smacked the ball over to the right so that my team could get it. One of the other players got it which took me by surprise. They took the ball about half way to their basket and then three guys did a series of passing that I had never seen before. They made a basket and I just stood there with my jaw dropped along with

the rest of my teammates. Our coach called a time out and before I even got past half court I could tell he was angry. 

“Do you know what you lazy hogs looked like?!” He tried to reenact us standing there with our jaws dropped. “Listen, I told you about these guys. They are not the best players but they're smart and although we have a lot of skill, we're not the sharpest tools in the shed. So what I need from all of you is to play smart and give it all you got. Now get out there and show them who’s boss!”

We all ran out there and I decided to make this the best game that I have ever played. I was at about half court and some other players on my team passed it in. As we were dribbling down the court someone came and stole the ball! I was not going to let this happen. As the guy with the ball was passing to another one of his teammates I jumped up as high as I could and intercepted the ball when I heard, “crackkkkkk!” I came to the ground trying the hardest I could not to scream. 

Immediately my teammates came and helped me up and took me over to our coach. My wrist was swelling by the second so he called my parents to come get me and drive me to the hospital. By the time we got there my wrist was black and blue and I couldn't move it at all. They took me to the ER and they said that it needed to be reset. I knew that this was bad news for me. They had to break my wrist even more so that they could put it together the correct way or else I could never play basketball again. I’m going to be completely honest, I cried when they rebroke it. The pain from it already being broken on top of this was too much, I knew that it would be over soon though, so I had to push through. 

Okay now, let's skip ahead to present tense because what I just told you was five months ago. Now, I’m finally cleared to play again but I only have three weeks to train before I have to make the team, so I have been working with a professional trainer and am trying to make some progress. 

“Can you try one more time to dribble with your left hand? I know that’s the wrist that you broke but my goal is that by the end of our hour training session you can walk up and down the court while dribbling with your left hand.” I tried and after many attempts I got it and could walk while dribbling with either hand without a problem. 

The next day my goal was to be able to do a light jog while dribbling with my left hand and the day after that a full out sprint. Thankfully I got all of the goals that I wanted to get every hour that I trained, and the day before tryouts, I was sure that I was ready. 

Tryouts

“Ready, set, go!” said the coach. We have to run while dribbling with our right hand up and down the court in 8 seconds without losing control of the ball. This was super easy because I was using my right hand. I’m worried about the left hand. “Your time was 7.1 seconds. Good job!” I was one of the first ones to finish going up and down the court while dribbling with my right hand. It was time for the left hand now, “ready, set go!” I fell behind really fast. When I finished I was the last one. My time was 8.2 so I didn't cut it. Coach said to do it again and I got exactly 8 seconds which worked but was still horrible. The rest of tryouts went the same way: terrible. 

The next day the team was posted at lunch. There was a short list of names and mine was at the very bottom. Then the coach came up to me and asked if he could have a word. We went into his office and he said, “Look, you barely made it. If you hadn't played for me last year and been so good, I would have cut you from the team. If you screw up one time this season you're out for the rest of your senior year.” I walked away disappointed because I knew this meant that I had no chance.