big shot ~ (bo cruz)

2

Stanley's POV -

I sigh, watching a local team in Madrid play. I've been searching Europe for months now, trying to find the next player to draft into 76ers. I've had 0 luck, and I've been to so many places.

I've got my eyes on one player. He plays well, and he's good at shooting from afar. The game is getting intense. He's weaving in and out of other players. The crowd cheers, and he shoots.. he scores!

I stand up, cheering alongside a few men who represent the team he's on. But then, he lands after his shot and rolls his ankle, falling to the floor holding it and shouting. I sigh.. he's done for. I turn to leave the stadium, ignoring the other men trying to convince me to give him another shot.

I inhale and exhale the humid air of Madrid as I leave the stadium, walking down the street. I'm disappointed. It's taken me so long to even come this close to finding a good player.. and he goes and injures himself. I've been away from home for far too long, and I'm getting nothing from it. I can't go home empty-handed again.

Suddenly, cheering and shouting catches my attention as I walk. I go towards the sound and see a street court surrounded by people, people smacking the fence and shouting in Spanish. I don't know what they're saying, but they sound excited. I get closer, seeing a game between a group of people going on. One man catches my attention as I watch.. a tall man, agile with the ball. He weaves through players, and he shoots well. He dunks, too.

The game stops, the man I'm watching and another man start shouting at each other. Something in Spanish. They yell and shout, and eventually, the one man throws money at the guy I've got my eyes on. They were playing for money.

This man was incredible. He knew what he was doing under pressure. It was amazing. That might be my guy right there. I follow him as he puts headphones on and leaves the court with his bag. "Hey! Hey, wait!" I shout as I follow him. He can't hear me..

"Stop! Wait!" I yell, getting on the bus he gets on. He pulls his headphones off one ear as he looks at me, looking irritated by my bothering him. Thank God!

"Hey, I uhh.. I saw you.. playing.." I say, trying to get my point out fast before he loses interest. "I'm an agent.. for the.. Philadelphia 76ers.. you know, NBA."

He nods, listening still.

"You played really good, man.. I umm.. I.." I try to speak, but the bus stops, and he gets up, leaving the bus. "Wait!" I get up and follow quickly.

He's walking, heading towards his home. He then goes inside. Fuck! My guy is gone! I need to do what has to be done, I need this guy to be my winning pick. My big achievement. I bang on his door, knocking as hard as I could. I hear him speaking Spanish inside, probably telling whoever is in there that I'm a crazy man. "Hey! You could be the next big NBA star! Come on!" I shout, knocking again before his door opens, and I stumble backward, surprised by his tall figure now staring down at me.

"Stop following me! I am not interested in your scam!" He shouts, his Spanish accent being strong, but he's got good English.

"It's not a scam! Trust me!" I say, scared he'll hurt me. "Here's proof. Here's a photo of me with my colleagues!" I say, showing him a photo of me with the owner of the 76ers, a few other talent agents, and some players from the team.

He looks at it, nodding reluctantly before gesturing for me to come in. I walk inside, and I see a little girl and an older woman inside, looking at us. He gestures for me to sit down, so I do.

I spend the next hour or so talking with him and this older woman, who I found out was his mother. We talk about his life and the little girl, who I also found out is his daughter. Her name is Lucia. I also found out his name is Bo Cruz. Hell of a name, right? It took a lot of convincing, but I finally convinced him to come with me to America to get him training so he could be in the NBA draft.

"Mama, I will call you every night. I will say goodnight to Lucia every night." Bo says as he hugs his mother and his daughter. I feel bad taking him away from them, but I can't bring them with us. They'll be a distraction for him.

"Come on, we're gonna miss our flight." I say, nagging him as I walk outside with one of his bags he packed. He soon comes out with his other bag and we make our way to the airport. I text my wife, sending her a selfie of me and Bo on the plane and tell her that I might have found our next big shot.