HAM (Hard As a Muthaf**ka)

Pawn to Bishop 5

Pawn to Bishop 5

                   “You straight?”

                   He had his dreds up in rubber bands, his mesh shorts on, and his Nike Zoom Hypers, as he looked down on me. I tightened the knot on my sneakers, as I sat on the bench. I knew Kantrell was a bit pissy, coz a nigga didn’t answer his calls…but I also knew that we weren’t gonna fight or nothin. “I’m good,”

                   “Nigga, answer yo phone next time. Shawty, I was wonderin if you had blew yo own brains out…I called yo mom, and she said she hadn’t heard from ya. Mos hadn’t heard from ya…I even called Rice Street nigga, to see if yo black ass had been locked up,” bitched Kantrell.

                   “Kant, you gotta excuse me, but I aint never did no shit like that before. That was a first- I was dealin wit it…in my own way,” I said. “And my way was, that I aint wanna be around nobody,”

                   “Okay…okay,” Kant said. “You sure you don’t wanna talk about it?”

                   “I’m sure,” I said. “I’m here to play some ball nigga, not talk about my feelings. Let’s go whoop these niggas asses,”

                   We stepped out on the court and started to mix it up. Kant would muscle his way inside, dribbling then pass the ball to me on the perim, and I would pop a nice jumper, or a 3. We were playin against Detrick and Mont…Ross was sittin on the bench- not that he couldn’t play, but he had to team up with whoever lost. On one of the plays, Mont had Kantrell guarded, and I was bringin the ball in…I was headin up against Detrick, who was pretty shifty, but not faster than me.

                   “I gotchu this time, J!” huffed Detrick, as I shift left then right, dribblin. He kept with me. “Nigga, you aint no Tony Parker,”

                   I put a grin on my face, and then shot around him to the right, with the quickness. Detrick tried to keep up, but I was gone. Mont yelled his name, as Detrick switched over to guard Kantrell- a perfect mismatch, coz Kant was too strong for skinny ass Detrick. I flew into the air ready to slam, when out of nowhere comes Mont, for the block. As I hit him, I chucked the ball over to Kant…I bounced off Mont, as we both fell to the concrete, as Kant outmuscled Detrick, and slammed on him.

                   Mont was quicker to get up, coz he had fell on his side…I fell on my back- not only did that shit hurt, but that hot ass court was burnin as well. Kant and Detrick peeled me up off the court. “You aight, J?”

                   “Yeah, I’m okay…my back jus hurt a little bit,” I grunted, walkin over to the bench. Ross came off the bench, takin his shirt off, as I took a seat. Man, that shit hurt!

                   “Man- Ross, put yo shirt back on! I don’t wanna see yo titties bouncin while you dribblin!” snapped Detrick, as the others laughed.

                   “Fuck you, D. You gay anyway if you lookin at a nigga man-boobs while he playin basketball,” countered Ross.

                   “Nigga, whutchu talkin bout- gay? Yo wifebeaters look like mutha fuckin sports bras, nigga,” cracked Detrick as Kant and Mont laughed harder. Even Ross laughed a little on that one. “Yo…fuck you, Detrick, nigga,”

                   I looked back, and saw two figures walkin up to the court. One of them looked like a big, burly dude wit his girl. I turnt my attention back to my boys, who had begun playin…it was Ross on Mont, and Kant on Detrick. On offense, Kant and Ross were outmusclin Mont and Detrick, but Kant them’s defense was shoddy now, coz Detrick had speed to burn, and he was outhustlin Kant, and Ross.