Playing Wright

Chapter 1: Play on Player

Kyle...

The dribbling of the ball.

The screaming fans.

The booing rivals.

The squeaking sneakers.

My coach yelling, "Get your head in the game!"

Those were the sounds that fueled me and pushed me. The sounds that, oddly, made me feel at home.

It was time to shut this shit down. Time to let this team know that they didn't make a mistake drafting me. That it wasn't a horrible idea to put me in for our injured player in the final quarter.

Follow the play Kyle, follow the play! The NBA finals were not the time to show off your skills. Especially when there was just a minute left on the clock, and we were one point behind.

Screams of anger and excitement filled the arena when the ball was taken from the rival player's hand.

My teammate passed it to another player, then that one dribbled down the court and then passed it to Jacoby.

Jacoby was our Jordan. The play was always to pass the ball to him if possible. Today was no different. Especially knowing that this was his last game. He had to go out with a bang.

He dribbled the ball down the court but was blocked by one of the rival players. He tried to run past but was blocked by another. He looked up at the clock and watched as the numbers went down.

He was trapped.

Dread filled our team, as the thought of us losing the game by one point looked like it was about to be a reality.

He looked around the court for someone to pass the ball to. That was hopeless, there was no one close enough to the basket. Well, except...

His eyes landed on me.

"No no no no no, noooooo!" I screamed in my head. This was not part of the plan.

But Jacoby didn't care. Without hesitation, he threw the ball my way. I easily caught it.

As much as I felt like freezing in place, this was not the time.

I quickly made my way to the basket with ease as no one was around to block me. No one expected them to pass the ball to the rookie.

Before I knew it, I was staring right at the basket.

Without hesitation, I positioned my feet and arms and took the shot.

You know how things go in slow-mo in a movie when the player was making the final shot? That's exactly what it felt like to me. Like the ball was taking forever to get to that damn basket.

The whole arena was silent, everyone was at the edge of their seats.

The ball got closer and closer. I was tempted to close my eyes and cross my fingers.

The ball finally got to the rim, and I watched as it circled it once...twice..., and then went through the net when the buzzer went off.

The crowd erupted as I was bombarded by my teammates.

I did it. I actually shot the winning shot.

Things seemed to go quickly after that. We were whisked to the locker room where we cheered our lungs out. For the first time ever the coach and all the players were giving me the props I always thought I deserved. We then went back to the court for the ceremony and that was probably when the reality of the win finally hit me. Speeches were made, pictures were taken with the trophy, and we headed back to the locker room to get ready to head out to the real celebration.