Love The Game: Overtime

Chapter 9

Breathe, breathe, breathe... Just breathe.

I keep having to remind myself of this as I step up to the free throw line and I try to clear my head. Every part of my body is telling me to just run, to keep going, to just keep moving. I can feel my hands shaking as I reach the line. Breathe.

Bennet let me play a lot this game, and I'm doing my best not to fuck it up. If I fuck it up there's no chance of me playing this much again. I'm the only walk on freshman that actually gets a chance to touch ball. Callie, Michelle, Dillon and Caroline, our other post, are all older than me. Callie by a year, Michelle by two and I'm not sure about the other two.

I have to make this shot. The ref throws me the ball and I catch it with still shaky hands. I go through my entire free throw ritual which consists of me spinning the ball in my left hand then throwing it forward but with a spin so it comes back to me. I catch the ball and bounce it four times. I look up at the basket. I can feel the anxiousness radiating off of the other girls lined up. If I make these shots it puts us ahead with enough of a lead that they can't come back. The score is 45-43 with 21 seconds left on the clock. I shoot the ball and it feels good. The rotation didn't feel forced, my elbow was nice and straight and the arch was perfect. The ball lands in the net with a swish. 46-43. One more. I can still feel the tension in the air. It's suffocating. The crowds have all gone quiet and the silence is deafening. I go through the process again. I throw the ball forward but when it comes back to me the seams on the ball aren't horizontal, they're vertical. I try and push the thought out of my head. I bounce the ball four times. The seams weren't lined up right. I shoot the ball. As soon as it leaves my hands I can feel that it's a bad shot. The ball hits the little part of metal that's behind the rim but in front of the back board. Shit. The ball bounces up and goes to the right. With all the speed I have in me I lunge for the ball but one of the taller posts gets the ball from me. She passes it down court and to one of her team mates. I run as fast as I can down the court to try and stuff the girl. As I get closer to her I slow down. If I foul her and she gets free throws there's no way we will win. I stay on her just enough to make sure that she doesn't shoot a three pointer, but so that she has to go in for a layup. She does, and she makes it. The buzzard rings. Times up.

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"What the hell was that?" Bennet is pissed. Hell, I'm pissed. We were all in the locker room sitting on the benches.

"We do not let them out jump us. Dillon you should have had that rebound. That girl got an inch of the ground if that." Dillon nodded her head and looked down at the ground.

"Atkinson! We do free throw shooting drills every day after practice, so explain to me why the hell you missed that last shot!" I looked up at her with piercing eyes. She returned the look until I looked back at my shoes. I don't think 'the seams weren't lined up right' is the answer she's looking for. Bennet yelled at us for the next 10 minutes straight. I refused to look up. It didn't matter that we won. That last play was terrible, and avoidable, and my fault. I never miss my free throws.

When Bennet was finally done she walked out of the locker room with the other assistant coaches and whatnot. I got up from the bench and walked to my locker. I grabbed my bag out of the locker and changed into my Nike joggers and the long sleeve dri-fit shirt I had brought. I put my headphones in. Maybe then I'll stop replaying that shot over and over in my head. Maybe it'll drown out my thoughts. I grabbed my shit and walked out of the locker room. As I was walking out into the hall that separates the locker room from the main gym I felt a hand on my arm. I turned around ready to fight someone when I saw Callie standing behind me. She was moving her lips like she was talking but I didn't hear her. I pulled out one of my ear buds and said