Airball

Chapter 9 - The Basketball Mindset

November 18, 2019.

I woke up to my phone exploding with the sound of ringing. I slapped the phone to try to snooze the alarm, but then I realized that I didn't have an alarm set. I never had, I had always just woken myself up. So I picked the phone up and sat up in bed, my curiosity taking over. Who would be contacting me this early?

I squinted at the name on the screen, and when it came into focus, I noticed that it was multiple names. Cam;Max;Nathan. I debated on whether or not to answer the group call, but once again, my curiosity was in control. I tapped the green button and held the phone up to my ear.

"What're you guys doing?" I croaked into the phone, knowing full well how my voice sounded.

"Blake!" Nathan's voice sounded excited and loud. I pulled the phone further away from my ear. I wondered how he was so energetic in the morning.

"Dude, check your email," Cam said, also sounded pretty pumped up.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Everyone got an email," Max explained. "It tells whether or not you made it on the team."

I opened the mail app immediately, not feeling the least bit tired anymore. Within a few seconds, I would know whether or not I'd made the team.

"We're crossing our fingers, Blake," said Cam.

I didn't respond. I refreshed the page and an email from Eric Hendrix popped up. I held my breath and opened the email, quickly swiping my eyes across the page.

Blake Manson,

We're proud to accept you onto the Cobras basketball team for the 2019-2020 season. Practice and workouts start next Monday. Reply to this email with any concerns or questions.

Eric Hendrix, South Miami High School
𝐸𝓇𝒾𝒸 𝐻𝑒𝓃𝒹𝓇𝒾𝓍

I read the email about three times over before I let myself believe it. I let out a sigh of relief, and it felt like a giant weight had been lifted with it.

"Well?" Cam asked. "Don't leave us hanging."

"I'm in," I breathed happily. "I got in."

"My man!" Cam exclaimed.

"Ay!" Nathan cheered.

"Nice!" congratulated Max.

I laid back against my bed, making the entire thing creak. I let out another sigh of relief. Everything seemed to be spinning inside my head. I realized that I hadn't actually been expecting to make the team. I had already began trying to figure out how to let my friends down softly. But that was no longer necessary. I had made the team. I checked the time on my phone. 5:43 a.m. I slid out of the bed.

"Alright, boys, let's get going," I said.

"Where?" asked Max.

"The street court," I replied. "We have time to get there and back in time for a shower before school. And I have a feeling we could use some practice."

--

The next week was a grind. I practiced at the street court both on my own and with my friends. I would go every afternoon to get some time in, as well as a couple mornings if I got up in time. My only focus was on impressing the coach when Monday came. And Monday came quickly. It was November 25th before I knew it, which meant one thing. Practice. I went through my daily routine like always, but something felt different the entire day. I seemed to have more energy than usual. I just couldn't wait for practice. I recognized the feeling from when I was on the team in middle school. The feeling was hard to describe, but it felt like a mixture of a lot of exciting anticipation and a little nervousness. There was no other feeling like it.