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*Bradley POV*
I hate John Wall. Why does he have to be so conceded? He never talks and his communication skills suck. But, here I am, stuck with John as my point guard.
He's awfully shy. You could tell he's the shy type by his face but DAMN, at least talk to me.
Today, we have a game against the Raptors, 2nd in the east. We're 9th, so we need to win these games badly.
I'm itching with anger and anxiety before the game. "John," I say, looking over to him changing to uniform. He hums in response, tugging on his armsleeve.
"Can we," I pause, thinking about how to word this, "Can we try to communicate a bit more on the court? Like, come on man." I surprise myself with my angry tone and I'm skeptical on an apology. John hesitates, I watch his face go red. He blinks at me and clenches his jaw, then nods.
Rui pulled me to the side. "Bradley," he says, trying to swallow his accent, "John's just quiet all the time because he had a rough childhood."
I shiver, "What? He never told me that." Rui grabbed me by the shoulders, "He used to be a criminal, after his father died. Haven't you heard?" I shake my head and feel frustration well up in my chest.
"How was I supposed to know that? He never even talks!" I whisper-yell. Rui ruffles the dark curls on his head uneased, "Well, he's just trying to be quiet and change from his old life. Maybe you remind him of somebody-"
An alarm sounds, that's our queue, our team rushes out to the arena of the Staples centre. Flashes of red pour everywhere I flinch from the lights as the crowd erupts in cheer.
It's overwhelming, everytime I step on court. They introduce all the players and I stretch my legs before tip off.
I tap John on the shoulder who is warming up. "John. Remember, communication is key," I say, trying to be less harsh with my tone.
He nods, "Yeah, you got it," he responds, unsureness cracking his voice.
And so, we lined up for tip-off. Raptors ball. Kyle dribbles intensely as he passes the half-court line, scanning the court. John is locked in on him, but I spot Serge at the corner.
I guard Pascal, knowing that Kyle might attempt the 3 or fake then pass to Serge I warn John. "Wall, Ibaka West!" He shuffles to block Kyle's view and Kyle forces a pass to Siakam.
I steal the ball from Siakam's hands and bounce pass it to John who runs up and passes it to Rui, Rui makes the dunk.
I run up to John and pat him on the back, "Good job." He smiles and runs back to his zone. We're down 20-23 in quarter 1.
