Kelsey, Meghan, Alex, and are in my moms van on the way to Midville Middle School. Meghan has grown both a strange liking for basketball and an attachment to me. She is like glue. Wherever I go, Meghan goes. Kelsey is quite outgoing around my mom, Meghan, Alex, and I. We are disagreeing about our math teacher, Mrs. Halo.
"She is a loser!" Alex cries.
"She is not." Kelsey groans. "She's an angel." (Take note of her pun.)
"Only towards you! You're the innocent new girl. She hates us!" I say, high-fiving Alex.
"Yeah." Meghan says. Just like always, she is agreeing with me.
"You prove her wrong about everything!" Kelsey cries.
"That's because she is always wrong!" Alex defends us.
"Yeah." Meghan sasses her sister. "What he said."
"Would you stay out of this?" Kelsey laughs. "I will tickle you to death." She threatens.
Meghan's eyes suddenly grow in pure terror. Kelsey lunges, tickling Meghan roughly. The younger girl thrashes about in her wheelchair. Her squeals ring through the air, making us all laugh. She is so adorable.
"Stop it! Stop it!" she cries. "Linds! Save me!"
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I am dressed to play, although I know that if coach were to put me in, my mom would run out onto the court to put a stop to the whole game. It just feels good to be dressed again.
"Hey Linds, could you keep stats?" Coach asks.
"Sure." I reply. He hands me his green, plastic clipboard and coaching book. Next to my name he has written, "out for season". Just for the fun of it, I write, "20 points, 12 rebounds, 10 steals, 6 blocks, and 0 turnovers" next to my name. I guess I can only wish.
The game begins, and Trey, once again, wins the tip off. He quickly baseball passes to Alex in the corner. He shoots. We lead 3-0. Alex gets a foul and their point guard makes both free throws. 3-2.
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The game goes on like this, we only lead by two unless we aren't leading at all. Coach calls a timeout with 32.6 seconds left. We are down by six.
"Don't foul! Do not foul!" Coach says. "Do you hear me? Do not foul!"
"We got it coach!" Alex says.
"Good. Go win this game."
Not three seconds after the ball is inbounded, Alex draws his fifth foul. He walks angrily towards the bench.
"You don't listen worth crap!" I tease.
"Shut up!" He says laughing.
"She's right." Coach says.
Zach Arvan enters the game for Alex. Our lineup is now taller and more muscular, but also slower. Our opponents make both free throws. They lead by eight. Zach inbounds the ball to Max who passes it right back. Zach, not being a ball handler, turns it over. We are down by ten with thirty seconds left. Zach once again, inbounds
the ball. Max passes it up to Trey. He drains a three. We preform a half court trap, which earns us the ball. We score on an easy layup. Zach steals the bed inbound pass and scores. We are down by three with twenty seconds left. The opponents score a layup because of bad defensive transitioning. Zach nails a three.
"Dang! He should play more often." Alex says to me.
"He's a great clutch player." I reply.
We are down by three now. The clock reads 9.4 seconds left. Zach dribbles the ball the length of the court. 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3...
"Shoot it!" I cry. We rise from the bench.
He shoots a three. The smallest player on the court leaps and fouls him. Big time.
The ref blows his whistle. Zach steps to the free throw line. He nails the left side of the rim. Miss. He air balls. Miss.
"Hack-a-Zach." Alex whispers to me, referring to a famous NBA player, Shaquille O'Niell.
The ball goes in and out. Miss. He gets his own rebound.
1...
He shoots a layup.
The buzzer sounds.
The ball falls through the net. We lost 61-62.
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HARDER THAN IT LOOKS
SonstigesI am a girl. So what? Almost all of my friends are boys. Big deal. We are all friends, brought together by the game. My strength: ball handling. My weakness: I am small. Tall, but very skinny. Size really matters in this game. I am playing better th...
