BALLER FROM BULGARIA // a UCONN story

5. the outfit and the bar

My optimism, that I would like to associate with blissful ignorance, lasted one week.

That week was arguably the best week of my life. I got closer with my teammates, and even made friends with them. It might sound a bit dramatic, but after being the troubled kid in a literal orphanage, being surrounded by kids but not really having friends, you kind off lose faith in your own social abilities.

But hey fuck that, I guess it was them not me.

I spent my week working hard in the classes that had started on Monday, and immediately realised that American college isn't all that hard. Sure, I would need to spend time on my assignments, but I aced school in Bulgaria, and even my double major philosophy and economics hadn't managed to bring me down yet.

Of course, practices went on as well. I was making a name for myself (within the team, but still) as gritty and tough. We practice extremely hard, and sometimes I fall down, but one thing Miss Iryna taught me, is to get the fuck up and don't complain. A little bit of trauma and stuff, but hey, coaches love it!

I went to lunch with Q, watched a movie with Nika and had the most chaotic afternoon of my life on Thursday, when I got lost in the woods with KK. We decided to go live and ask the chat what direction we should walk to (We in fact got more lost, and Paige had to pick us up with her car).

In conclusion, I had a great week, and I am ready for a great weekend waking up on this sunny yet somehow freezing Saturday.

I look at the clock and see that it is already 7:50. I snoozed a few times too much, considering I wanted to get to the facilities early, and my practice starts at 9.

I put some milk in a bowl and add cereal (controversial, I know) and eat breakfast faster than anyone has ever eaten anything before.

While thinking about how I would totally win any food contest in the world, I get dressed. I politely thank Nika, who offers me a ride if I wait another 15 minutes, and sprint to the facilities. I do my regular routine of changing my bigger and better hearing aid to the smaller one (I now do this in the changing room, enabling me to hear people talking to me on the way over ( don't want another Q situation)), and get onto the court. A steady 20 minutes of undisturbed shots before my training starts.

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'This is diabolical,' KK pants as we finally finish our sprints. She dramatically falls to the ground and I laugh at her a little bit. I am absolutely dead myself; coach stopped training at random moments and we all had to take a free throw, all the misses added up to the number of sprints we had to do at the end of training. Keep in mind, he stopped us like 15 times and EVERYONE had to shoot.

As I sit on the bench, next to a still very much struggling KK, some of the older girls walk over.

'you'll get used to uncle G's conditioning after a while', Aubrey said, heavily breathing herself.

'But for now, enjoy dying during practise,' she laughs as she looks at KK, who might as well do exactly that, and die.

'Anyways, we are going to the bar tonight, and you are all coming!' Aaliyah says, averting her gaze from the floored freshman.

'you are not getting drunk though,' Aubrey says, pointing at me and the other first years.

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After having lunch with Ashlynn, I am enjoying some quiet time. At least, until KK burst trough the door and starts talking while making excessive hand signals.

'KK!' I yell, hoping she will hear me, she closes her mouth, making me continue; 'I am not wearing aids, look, no ear!' I say while pointing at my head. 'Give me a second.'