Summer Sanders is going through it. The pressures of school are mounting, and her home life is completely falling apart. Feeling bored and lonely on a Saturday night, she decides to get buzzed and surprise her hookup buddy with her best lingerie. Th...
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We're in the final quarter, with a minute let on the clock. 97-95, that's the score between us and Worton, which means it could be anyone's game.
The energy in the stadium is at an all time high. When I'm in game mode, each person doesn't feel like an individual member of an audience. They all just blend together as one big spectator watching my every move. It's not intimidating, in fact, I often barely notice their presence when it comes down to pivotal moments like this.
There's been a constant back and forth between both teams, and despite blunders on both ends, we've been pretty much neck and neck the whole game. Now's the time for us to give that final push and take this home. I desperately need this win.
Chris slam-dunks a shot, puffing his chest and letting out an animalistic growl. Number 14 scoops the ball back up, trekking towards the opposite side of the court. He attempts to pass to number 22 but is blocked by Darren.
The ball falls near me and I waste no time getting it in my hand. My breathing is steady and my sight is laser sharp as I dribble towards the hoop. The other team follows, but aren't quick enough to recover from my sidestep. My shot makes the net, and just like that, we're 99-95.
Number 3 recaptures the ball and when his attempted dunk is blocked twice, he throws it back out. I jump up, easily catching it. There's a few seconds left on the clock. We're half court, and I'm completely surrounded. They stare me down, waiting for my next move, waiting for a mistake.
Ken is further up and has a little wiggle room, but I don't feel fully confident passing to him. I could pass to Chris, and then he pass to Darren, but I ultimately decide to take the shot myself.
I jump, extending my arm and flicking my wrist.
The ball soar towards the hoop, while the position of my jump causes me to fall backwards. The other team scrambles trying to catch it but are too late. The buzzer rings, the ball makes it in the hoop, and I'm on the ground with a smile.
We do the required press then head to the locker room in silence.
"Great game," Darren fist bumps me, making his way to the showers.
My other teammates don't seem to be as excited as they normally are. Whether we win or lose, the locker room is still always filled with boisterous conversation. Tonight though, most of them are quiet. Ken especially looks like he's ready to tip over a table for some reason.
I've been thinking about what coach said two weeks ago and decided tonight I'll finally step up. I'll invite the guys to Manny's burgers and try to get to know them more. Now that I'm riding high on this win, the task doesn't seem too daunting.
"Carter, you're just about getting on my damn nerves out there." Ken points with sudden aggression. His freckled face is red and he's breathing heavily. Sweat drips from the tips of his spikey hair down to his forehead.
