Push Harder

Jordi Le Dion was a 5’5" senior attending Stony Bridge High. Her hair was blond with two blue streaks in the front, and her eyes were green. She played basketball, as a guard, and she was good. 

Her father, Mack Le Dion, was the head coach at a high-end college, over 1,000 miles away from Jordi's high school.

Mr. Le Dion had also been a very accomplished high school basketball player in his day, breaking three school records at Stony Bridge High.

Pound, pound, pound. The empty gym echoed with this redundancy over and over, at 6 a.m. Jordi had come before school to work on her game like she always did.

Swish. The ball went through the hoop over and over again, being launched from the three-point arc, where Jordi thrived.

Sweat beaded her face. Pound, swish, pound, swish. This pattern got old after a while. Pound, swish, pound-- door opening.

Jordi turned to see her father coming in the door.

"Dad!" She exclaimed, dropping the ball and running towards him. "I thought you weren't coming back until tomorrow!"

"Well, change of plans," laughed Mr. Le Dion. "I canceled practice tonight, so I could come back earlier."

“I’m so glad!” Jordi rejoiced.

“I brought someone special along with me,” Mr. Le Dion added. “Come on, Ace.”

The door opened again and in walked Jordi’s older brother, Ace.

He played on the team that his dad coached, and was one of the best players.

He opened his arms and Jordi ran toward him, picking his twig-like body up.

“All right, enough,” Mr. Le Dion announced. “The big game tonight can’t win itself!”

Until 7:30, Ace showed off his spectacular ball moves and such, while Mr. Le Dion expected Jordi to do them as well as her older brother.

“No, Jordi, left foot!” He yelled, then told Ace to demonstrate it once more. Ace did as he was told, and then Jordi followed. “Left!” Yelled Mr. Le Dion once more. “Left!”

“I can’t do it, dad,” Jordi finally said, dropping the ball. “I just can’t.”

“Yes, you can!” Yelled Mr. Le Dion angrily, “go!”

Jordi picked up the ball and did it wrong yet again.

“Well,” her father chimed calmly, “at least your brother has enough talent to do a simple ball move!”

“But dad--” failed Jordi. 

“Come on son, let’s go home and see your mother and little brother.” Mr. Le Dion spat. “Maybe they’ll do something right.”

Jordi went to the locker room and cried. Her father had always been this way to her (in basketball), and usually, she was fine with it, but now, he had pushed the limit.

“I’m supposed to follow in my good-for-nothing brother’s footsteps,” Jordi fumed, walking down the hall later that day, talking to her best friend Alesia, “and become a robot of my controlling father!”

“It’s all going to be okay,” calmed Alesia. “We’ll figure it out and you will be a little bit freer.”

“Thanks for trying Les, but I think that I need to handle this-- by showing my dad what’s up.”

Warmup for the game came, and Jordi felt her anger reaching an all-time high. She was going to unleash that anger in the game, flattening the opponent, the Stony Bridge High Bluejay’s rival, Underwood Falls Hummingbirds, like a pancake.

“Breathe in,” said Alesia while the girls were in line. “Breathe out.”

Jordi did so, and when the coach called them to come back into the huddle, her dad stopped her on the way.

“Remember Jordi,” he told her. “Your brother succeeds because of his confidence, just remember--”

Jordi pulled away from his grip on her shoulders and went to the huddle.

“More like his cockiness,” she muttered under her breath.

The game started, and the jump went to the Bluejays. Jordi caught it and dribbled down the court, calling the play: Baller.

The two posts sat up on the wings and went down to set a screen on the shooting guards on the blocks. They popped out after the screen, and Jordi passed it to one of them, Paula Kerr. Jordi cut through, with a double screen from the two bigs, Hallie Michaels and Lucy Hittle, to the right-wing, where Paula had dribbled away from.

Paula passed it to Jordi, and she fired. Swish.

3 to 0, the bluejays leading the way.

The hummingbirds flew down the court, for a chance at two points, the contested layup was missed, leaving the defender, Lucy Hittle, on the ground. A charge was called, and the home team had the ball.

Jordi brought the ball down the court, crossing three defenders up. On the fourth defender that she came across, she decided to cast a spin move on her. That happened, and she passed it down low to Hallie, for an uncontested layup.

It might look like an easy game so far, but it only got tougher for the bluejays.

The hummingbirds passed the ball down low to their post before either bluejay post could recover, and scored.

2 to 5, Bluejays in the lead. But not for long.

The hummingbird shooting guard, Layla Emmanuel, went on a tear. Scoring 13 points in a row, in the first half, after a Hummingbird timeout.

At halftime, the score was 37 to 33, the Bluejays in the lead.

When the team was walking to the locker room, Mr. Le Dion caught Jordi’s attention from the bleachers.

“Sit down on defense, follow through on your shot, and stop turning the ball over!” He shouted. “Your brother goes up to the gym every day to ensure that he doesn’t do those kinds of beginner things wrong!”

Jordi ignored him and continued to the locker room.

The speech from the coach wasn’t all too inspiring. He just went into detail on the things that Jordi’s dad had told her as she walked back.

“As a girl is dribbling, you can most of the time tell which hand is her good hand, and which is her bad hand,” he said. “You need to force her to the side that she isn’t as strong with, which prevents easy points.”

The team filed out to the court.

They ended up winning the game, by one point.

After the game, when Jordi came out of the locker room, her dad didn’t say anything when he and the rest of her family greeted her at the doors outside.

Her mom, Lily, and her little brother, Jayce, congratulated her on the close win and offered to go out for ice cream in celebration.

“There’s nothing to celebrate.” Mr. Le Dion spat. “She played-- well, let’s just say she didn’t meet her expectations.”

The short ride home was not pleasant, for her dad was yelling at her about all of the things that she did wrong. When they got home, she ran to her room and locked the door.

Her dad had a key that he unlocked her door with when she got mad.

“I quit basketball!” Jordi roared when he sat down on her bed. “All it does is bring me screaming from you!”

“Don’t go thinking you’d go and be a better ballerina,” Mr. Le Dion retorted. “You don’t have any eye-foot coordination.”

“Thanks.” Mumbled Jordi, slamming her head back down on her pillow. “You’re so supportive.”

“No--” hesitated Mr. Le Dion. “Look Jordi, I’m sorry.”

Jordi sat up again, tears in her eyes.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you, and saying rude things, and everything,” he stuttered. “It’s just that-- I see potential in you, and I-- you’re brother-- I was just expecting you to follow in his footsteps-- go d1, be successful-- but it was all me pushing you where you didn't want to go, and if you don't want to play basketball anymore, I get it, I burnt you out.”

“You’re serious?” Jordi asked.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I don't want you to become a robot, copying exactly what your brother has done, I don't want to make you follow in the footsteps of someone that does something that you don't even want to do.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Jordi said, leaning in to hug him. “I know that you mean the best.”

“Well, how about that ice cream?” Mr. Le Dion contended. “That really was a win to be proud of.”

"Dad," said Jordi. "I don't actually quit basketball, I was being dramatic."