Always Fighting // Kyrie Irving

Don't Try Me

Kyrie-

I was cleared to travel with the team for game five. Barely. They told me to put as little weight on my leg as possible, and walk as short a distance as possible. Still, I'll do anything if I get to go with my team to our Finals game.

The plane ride wasn't painful so much as it was uncomfortable. My leg had to be in an awkward position due to spacing and that did nothing for my knee cap.

It's a lot of work to travel. I mean, the start of my rookie year it was kind of fun. Then you really started to feel the wear and tear constant flying took on you. Most people fly and it takes them a day or two to recover. For us athletes, we fly and have to be ready that very evening or next to be on top of our game. No mistakes, no excuses. This is what we signed up for after all.

Our seven hour plane trip gives me plenty of time to reflect on just why the doctors said it would ultimately be better for my leg if I stayed. Still, I didn't want to miss it, even if it did mean discomfort. I suppose if it was shorter it wouldn't have been such a big deal. Though doesn't it seem counter intuitive that sitting still for that long would be bad for an injured leg? I don't know, they are the expert. My job is to listen and find ways to wiggle my way around their constricting rules.

Seven hours may seem insanely long, but when I first flew to Oakland it was actually kind of fun. It was hours of me and my buddies singing, teasing, laughing. It all goes by in a flash when you are truly enjoying yourself. Which I think we all do. It's even better with LeBron on the team, because, come on, that dude is crazy. I don't think it's possible for him to run out of jokes or sarcastic comments. He brings the humor, I bring the singing.

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We arrived at the hotel yesterday, and I went with the guys to practice, which was almost right away. Coach and the staff usually make us practice after we get off the plane so we get in the habit of going straight to game mode. Sometimes we haves games the same day we arrive, so we always got to be ready.

Then after that, we all just kinda slowly drifted off to bed. It's equally important to get plenty of sleep.

So, today, I decided to head down to grab a drink since everyone else is just getting ready for the game.

I try to disguise my walk as I head into the overly crowded hotel bar. The other guys neglected to come due to the game today, which makes sense. Me? I need a drink.

Sighing to myself, I sit down on a bar stool and wave over the bartender. "I'll take a tall of the best beer on tap." He nods and scuttles over to get it, very quickly placing an glass of delicious golden liquid in front of me.

I don't really drink that much, unless I'm out with the guys celebrating. Even then, it's not a ton. No sense in getting drunk beyond your senses. Too much is at stake with my career for that to happen. I'm not about to let the tabloids get a photo of me staggering and vomiting or acting wild in my alcohol induced craze.

Watching SportsCenter with heightening interest, I slowly sip my beer. All of a sudden a feel a hand run across my shoulder, and a tall, dark haired woman wearing a tight fighting outfit sits down next to me.

"Hey," she says smoothly, a flirty smile on her face. "Your Kyrie Irving aren't you." It's not a question, it's a statement, and I try to ignore it. I know the type of woman she is. One who could make me front page of the tabloids and decrease the whole role-model thing I got going.

"Aren't you a little too old for this," I respond, obviously referencing myself in a classic anti-pick up line.

"Not at all, baby. I like younger boys. It's cute when they fumble around not quite knowing how to a hold a lady."

"Ah." Okay.... how do I get out of this one? I feel heat rising to me a face as she moves closer to me, running a hand up and down the tie I'm wearing.

"Come on, Kyrie. Let's go have some fun." She whispers to me, a lusty look in her eye.

"Yup... about that... Bartender!" I call raising my hand and twisting my body so her hand fall off. A shiver runs down my spine when I feel her breath on my ear, she gives it a slight kiss. She doesn't give up, does she?

"I could show you things." She moves down my jawline with light little kisses, then paws my face. My brain is completely fuzzy, what do I do? The natural first instinct to when someone kisses you is to kiss back, but that'll just give her what she wants. I place my hands on her shoulders and push her away with force.

"Uh, bartender! Charge it to the room, you know which one." I practically jump up from my seat, grabbing my suit coat, and hurriedly exit the room. It isn't until I'm practically all the way across from the lobby, heading towards the elevator, that the pain in my knee registers. That movement was far too fast and far too spontaneous. Checking to see there is no one really around, I slump against the wall. Pain lances up my leg. Maybe the doctors were right, I need to take this easy.

With a careful, limping walk I make my way to Tristan and I's hotel room.

I pound on the door when I arrive, still feeling the aftermath of the sharp, shooting pain from my knee. He opens it quickly, takes a look at me, and puts an arm on my waist to help me in.

"Kyrie! One.. Why are you out without your crutches," he says, setting me on the side of my bed. "And two, isn't it a little too early for hookers?"

I looked at him with a shocked expression. "Dude, what are you talking about. I wasn't with no hooker!"

"Yes, well the lipstick running down your jaw line would suggest differently."

"Lipstick! Great..." I groan, both from the remaining pain and frustration. "This woman at the bar tried to come on me."

"Apparently," is all he says, though I sense a smile is on his face.

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