The Brighter Side of Things

Chapter 10

Club openings had always excited and frustrated me at the same time. Everyone looked forward to the Athletics Club tryouts the most because it is where the official players who would represent St. Matthew's for inter-school sports competitions were picked. Those who didn't make it to the cut would already be equally assigned to different teams in preparation for the Intramurals.

Over the years, I had always enlisted for volleyball because there were no sign-up sheets for basketball for girls. Given my height, I'd become a middle blocker for the volleyball team by default.

Lexi, the star player of the volleyball team since time immemorial, had already told me playing middle blocker was a lot like playing center in basketball. I'd take care of blocking the opponent's attacks, or I could hit the ball for a spike which was volleyball's equivalent of slam dunk. But no matter how I tried to rewire my brain to understand volleyball, my limbs were accustomed to playing basketball. More often than not, I'd be called for lifting, over-reaching, or numerous net violations. Suffice it to say that even with my height, I wasn't much of a help inside the court. I was the perpetual bench player they'd only allow inside the court when we were ahead by a lot.

That's why this year, I made up my mind. I didn't want to play volleyball anymore. I told myself it was basketball or nothing. Our homeroom teacher, Mrs. Alviejo, knew this from when we had our first one-on-one talk. Though she didn't promise me anything, she told me she'd talk to the new Athletics Club moderator about it. But the club applications were drawing nearer and I had not gotten any updates from her yet. I was getting anxious. I was hoping if I could already start looking for a non-sports club that would fit my lesser interests (if there were any. Worst case scenario would be me club-less for the rest of the senior high). So as soon as we got dismissed from our last class, I decided to drop by the Faculty Room for a quick chat with her.

"Hi Ma'am, this is Seven Ventura. I'd like to speak with Mrs. Alviejo please," I requested over the intercom.

Moments later, I was allowed entry into a small cozy waiting room with two chairs, a couch, and a low table stacked with educational magazines. Someone left the door to the inner office open and the conversation spilled through the gap.

"Who's that?"

"One of my students, Seven."

"Who?"

"Seven. Younger sister of Six Ventura. Gentle and silent kid. Same tall and athletic build. One look at her and you'd see she's got potential waiting to be tapped. Girl's just dark-skinned..."

Heat crawled up to my face and my ears started to ring, drowning out the rest of the conversation. When Mrs. Rita arrived, and sat across me with a smile on her face, I tried to be cheerful. I pretended I understood what she was saying, nodding every now and then even when everything she had said sounded like a low hum. Before I knew it, our brief meeting was over and I left the Faculty Room with my fists clenched tight.

What did my being dark-skinned had anything to do with having the same potential as my brother anyway? Was that the reason why I couldn't get into the basketball team and not because there wasn't any other female players? Simply because I was a morena?

In my frustration, I headed to the empty gym to vent out. From the rack, I picked up a ball and started dribbling around the half-court. And whenever the urge to scream became too strong to ignore, I'd take a shot.

Why was it so hard to pursue something you were passionate about anyway? While numerous doors opened for others, why did it seem like all the doors for me were locked? It was unfair.

I did the dribble and shoot drill. Dribble and shoot. Pick up the ball. Dribble, fake, shoot. Over and over until my tight jaw loosened. Until my anger drained out of my system through sweat and was replaced by sheer joy at being able to play the sport I was born to play even if I wasn't given the chance to officially participate in.