ROSETTA

ROSETTA CHAPTER 19: NOTHING BUT NET

{Xander Thompson – December 2, 2017}

The roar of the crowd filled the gym, vibrating through my bones. Semifinals. This was the moment I'd been preparing for all season. The air was thick with anticipation, and I could feel the weight of everyone's expectations pressing down on me.

From the tip-off, the game was a battle. The other team was relentless, pushing us harder than anyone else this season. I knew I had to step up. My jumper felt solid as I kept putting up shot after shot, but every time, something was just a little off. The ball would bounce off the rim or swirl around before popping out. It wasn't going the way I imagined.

Layups. Those should have been automatic. I'd practiced them hundreds of times, but today, my touch was off. They rolled out, missed by inches. My frustration mounted, and I could feel it affecting my rhythm. Free throws, normally a strength, were suddenly shaky too. It was like the pressure of the semifinals had settled into my muscles, making everything that much harder.

I didn't play terribly, but this wasn't the standout game I needed. My jump shots weren't falling, but I managed to hustle, finishing strong at the rim a few times. I knocked down some important threes, but it was those little mistakes—the missed free throws, the sloppy finishes at the basket—that held me back from truly dominating.

As the buzzer sounded, signaling our win, a mix of relief and frustration flooded me. We'd made it to the finals, but I knew I could've played better. My teammates slapped my back, celebrating, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I let something slip through my fingers.

As I grabbed my water bottle and slumped onto the bench, something caught my eye. A man, standing near the baseline, watching me closely. He had that look—the kind scouts always have. His polo shirt had the unmistakable purple and gold logo of Louisiana State University. LSU. My heart jumped a little.

Coach caught my gaze and gave me a nod. "He's here for you," he mouthed.

I stood up, wiping the sweat off my face, trying to shake off the feeling that I didn't do enough. The LSU scout walked over, clipboard in hand, and extended his hand with a firm grip.

"Xander, right?" His voice was deep but friendly. "I've been following your season. You've got something special."

I nodded, trying to keep my cool. "Appreciate it, sir. I'm working hard."

He smiled. "I can tell. You've got a lot of potential. Even tonight, with some missed shots, your court vision and work ethic stood out. It's not just about making the shots, you know? It's how you handle yourself when they're not falling. You kept grinding."

Hearing that loosened something in me. The weight on my shoulders lightened just a bit.

"You ever think about playing for LSU?" the scout continued, his eyes sharp.

I swallowed, feeling excitement bubbling up in my chest. "Yeah, I've thought about it. It's a great program."

He nodded. "Well, we're looking for players who can bring grit and determination to the floor. I think you've got that, Xander. We'll be in touch soon."

I thanked him, doing my best to stay calm, but inside, my mind was racing. LSU. It was happening.

As the scout walked away, I let out a long breath, the weight of the game momentarily forgotten. This was what I'd been working for all along. Even if tonight hadn't been my best, I still had the finals coming up. One more shot to prove myself.

And this time, I wouldn't let it slip.