Stardom

6

The following Monday brings the Bosseigh High Cougars their second practice. And, compared to their first meeting, this one seems quite a peculiar follow-up. Unlike the first meeting, this session is spent running through shell drills and introductions to Coach Ellis's plays.
          While running through one of the live shell drills, Rasheed makes his first mistake. At least in his coach's eyes. Controlling the ball at the top of the key, Rasheed executes a smooth jab step to his left, shaking his defender, Aidan Marks, off his balance. Taking advantage of Aidan's jump, Rasheed bursts to his right, driving straight towards the hoop. Seeing forward Isaiah Andersen standing in his way, Rasheed steps into a flawless euro step, splitting both the defenders. Now, the only thing blocking him from the hoop is 6'0 shooting guard Doug French. Rasheed's indecision occurs as he is rising above Doug's head for an easy floater. As always, he doesn't want to take the shot. Fortunately, Rasheed spots star forward Kareem along the three-point line. Midair, Rasheed fires a beautiful pass right into Kareem's hands, who throws up the three.
          CLANK.
          "LAMB!!! WHAT IS THAT?" Coach Jay's furious voice rings through the gym.
          "Coach I- he had a better shot then me..." Rasheed responds feebly.
          "A better shot than you?..." Jay replies menacingly. "Last time I checked, a floater in the paint over a six foot guard is a better shot than a defended three."
          "Coach I-"
          "Shoot it next time, Lamb. Or you're running," Jay ends the debate there, blowing his whistle to begin the next round.
          Multiple rounds later, Rasheed makes his second, and last, mistake. At least, last of that practice. The play begins in almost the exact situation as before. Putting a beautiful jab step on his defender, Rasheed cuts the opposite way with the ball. With Aidan trailing him slightly, struggling to keep up, Rasheed stops and spots up on a dime. Just like his father. Now, he stands wide open at the right elbow; it is an easy 2 points for a player like a Rasheed. But, once again, he chooses to fling a cross-court pass to Brooks, who stands, defended, in the back corner. The pass is easily intercepted.
          "Ok. Fine. Lamb, 3 sets. I'll get your time," Coach Ellis says in a frighteningly quiet voice. "Everyone else, keep running through shell. Four passes and it's live."
          Jay's "sets" consist of an excruciating lineup of running, push-ups, and planks. First, the player needs to run the full length of the court, down and back, three times. Once this is done, two sets of twenty push-ups await him at the baseline. After that, he sprints the full length of the court another three times. All of it is concluded with three one-minute-long planks, with 15 seconds of rest time between each. And that's just one set.
          Fortunately, Rasheed makes it through the rest of practice without any further altercations with Jay, but he is by no means off the hook.
"Lamb, come over here real quick," Rasheed hears his Coach's voice behind him as the Cougars file out of the gym at the end of practice.
"Yeah, of course..." Rasheed complies as he picks up his bag.
Walking over to Coach Ellis, Rasheed knows exactly what the supposedly brief talk will be about.
"Ok, Lamb. Why don't you want to shoot the ball?" Jay gets started right away.
"Oh... Coach, it's not that I don't-"
"Please don't give me that bullshit, Lamb. I've seen you play before. I've been to your countless AAU games, kid. I watched you play last year with this team. So tell me, why don't you want to shoot the ball," Jay stops him sharply.
"Coach, I-"
"Huh?!"
"I just-"
"Spit it out, son."
"It's that I-"
"C'mon, kid, I've got places to be."
"OKAY. It's because of my dad, Coach. It's my dad," Rasheed snaps, breathing heavily.
"Continue," Ellis prompts him easily.
"It's... he- he broke his leg, Coach, while he was shooting. He broke it bad and they couldn't fix it," Rasheed's words come flowing, one over the other, "Every time I go up for a shot, I think of him. I don't wanna end up like him, Coach. I can't stop it. I just think of him screaming that night and I can't shoot it."
"Rasheed, I watched your father play. He was incredible... and-"
"No, Coach... I can't make the same mistake he did. I can't do it. I can't end up like him," Rasheed insists firmly.
"You think that was Mario's fault? You think he did something wrong? Your father did nothing to deserve what happened to him," Ellis persists in an unwavering voice, "That's sports. It happens. And sometimes you can't fix it, sometimes you have to stop because you just can't keep going. It happens. And by no means was that injury his own fault."
Rasheed's breathing begins to level out.
"There's nothing we can do to keep you from getting injured like Mario. If it happens, it happens," Jay insists, "But injuries don't just happen while you're shooting. They're all over the game. So refusing to shoot just to avoid an injury that could happen any other way sounds pretty damn stupid to me. You agree?"
"Yes sir," Rasheed nods slightly.
"I want you in this gym thirty minutes before every practice. We're gonna get some work done."
Standing up to leave, Jay proceeds toward the doors, clapping Rasheed's shoulder on his way. Rasheed watches him go, his thoughts running.
He picks up his ball and makes his way back onto the court.