On Demon Time

The ball bounced above the backboard and landed like a feather on the rim. It teased us for an eternity before going in. I jumped from my seat, and hugged the backup center and practice players with as much joy as I could muster. Then, I whirled my dry towel and tossed it in the air. We won another blowout game 90-64, but the buzzer beater meant there was more work to be done.

My teammates and I rushed the court to shower our star guard with hugs, “yeaaaaahhhhhh booyyyyy”s, “you’re so tough”s or “that’s so tough.” Of course I played my role and put on a wide toothy grin as the thousands of fans chanted his name roared to life. I saw our two announcers grip their mics as if they could fly away and started to monologue about how great his season has been. The media team pushed through the mob of teammates and filmed him and the crowd’s hysteria. “Smile and jump and wave your arms,” I thought.

We settled down and shook hands with our opponents. Every hand was limp, and not a single handshake lasted more than a second. They hurried off the court with their heads heavily bowed. “I could have helped them.”

In the locker room as we waited for our coach’s comments. Jokes, recap of how bad the other team’s best players were, and the over the top glazing of each other commenced:

“Man, coach made it seem like that Bradley guy was gonna kill us but he was stinky”

“Nah bro, he just couldn’t get through my guy KP”

“Bruh was scared” Phil said, followed by dapping up KP.

“And, the refs almost gave them the game too,” I added.

“Fuck yeah they did, like what are we doing BASKETLEAGUE?”…

The banter continued for a few minutes until coach walked in with a smug ear to ear smile. He congratulated the team and went into his usual post game speech. To be honest, I forgot what he said as I spaced out to the TV LG logo above coach and feigned interest. The team huddled and we broke for showers, workouts, and recovery.

I walked into the sub court in my game uniform. Thirty point murders meant I should’ve played. The happy grin turned into concentrated rage when I started my warmup for the two on two ritual that happened after every game with the same players I hugged. Eventually, the back up center, Bryan and I took turns shooting midrange jumpers and made our way through simple post moves so our game jerseys would have a decent excuse to show up in the laundry. Each swish kept the anger at bay, each miss was followed by a “fuck”, “motherfucker”, or a strong empty bite to jolt the brain awake. Then the two on two started.

“First to five baskets wins, defense is whatever you want,” the assistant coach said.

I shot to see who got ball first and missed. My jaws clenched as Bryan teased. I huddled with my teammate, a practice player, and decided our pick and roll coverage, “Im going to hard show.” Bryan and I lined up near the basket and our practice players had the ball at the top of the three point line when coach blew the whistle. Bryan sprinted toward my teammate on defense, and as he set the screen I began to lunge out toward the offensive guard with the ball. I glanced at the offensive guard’s legs and planted my right foot on top of his driving left foot. My ankle twisted and I went down. Excruciating pain shot through my ankle.

I rolled on the ground and grabbed my right ankle. I grimaced, slapped the ground, and swore. I looked up and saw them gather around me.

“What the fuck, you couldn’t have just gone backward? Why did you fucking drive?”

“I-I-I-“

“Shut the fuck up”

I got up on one leg and hopscotched my way toward the showers without looking back at them.

They tried to treat my ankle but I mumbled that I would come in tomorrow. They asked when I would be in and I said “text me.”

———————————————————————————————————————-

I walked into my apartment. “Oh my god what a game! That shot was incredible,” my wife squealed. I turned the corner and my pregnant wife smiled. She sat in front of the TV with her crotchet set and appeared to be making a tiny scarf. Her eyes were tired but were buzzing with energy after a game winner. They turned full with worry when she saw my face and the limp I carried.

“Baby, are you okay? You seem like you hurt yourself again.” She struggled to get up but came over to meet her hands with mine. “It looks like you rolled your ankle but you seemed okay after the game winner. Did someone hurt my big strong man?” she teased as she moved her hands and grabbed my cheeks.

“Oh no, this is all my fault baby, you know me. Getting hurt during the post game workout,” I said. I freed myself and placed my wallet and keys on the counter. I limped over to the closet to look for a change of clothes. “The guys want to go out for dinner tonight, honey, I might not be home till late. They all want to celebrate.”

“I figured, you all looked so happy. I’m sorry you couldn’t play though,” she said. I heard her sit back down and pick up the crotchet. “The final shot was so amazing though! I can’t believe he made it. I was screaming at the television set and dropped my sticks,” she laughed.

“I know. He is an amazing player isn’t he.” I rummaged through the closest to pick out black jeans and a button down short sleeved linen shirt. Went to the bathroom and sprayed on cologne and waxed my hair. I grabbed the Rolex and the golden chain necklace my wife bought for me two years ago for our anniversary. “You seem like your almost done with the scarf for little Kai.”

“I know! What do you think?” She looked up as I walked back from the closet with those eyes again. They gleamed and shimmered from the couch lamp.

“It looks nice,” I said as I gathered my wallet and keys and started to walk toward the door. “It looks wonderful," I added. "Anyway, I’ll be home before midnight hopefully.”

“Oh, okay, well have fun with your teammates and enjoy the win.” She looked down to start her scarf project again. I began to slip into my Jordans, “say hi to Mr. Game winner for me and remind him I have a date with his wife next week Tuesday! I’ll be here when you get hoooommmm-“ her voice disappeared behind the closed door.

In the elevator I opened my phone to a text from Bryan and started replying:

Bryan: You in the taxi big dawg?

Me: Yeah

Me: You got the table lined up?

Bryan: Yessssiiirrr!

Bryan: Katie said she gonna bring some of her friends tonight. Said she’s excited to see YOU though :)

Me: OOOOO shit I’m on demon time tonight baby >:)