It’s the beginning of the NBA season again, and my beloved Lakers are giving me a million reasons not to stay beloved. This is going to be a long season. While I am doing a lot of cringing, sighing, and throwing household objects at the wall, at least I can dream of my own highlights. I think if you are a fan of basketball, it is hard not to have your own ESPN highlight scripted in your head.
FIVE….. Down one with just a breath of time left on the clock. The arena is deafening. Stalling at the top of the key, he steps forward with the dribble. The defenders are scrambling, anticipating the final play.
FOUR…. His first step down the lane is met with bodies with the opposite uniforms collapsing on him. He seems trapped in the sea of bodies enveloping around him.
THREE… His crossover causes an entire squad to shift the wrong way in unison. One defender and 15 feet of space between the ball and the net is all who is left to deny him of the W.
TWO.. He pump fakes with time slipping away. The defender bites and jumps high in the air with bad intentions but is now airborne and not able to use his length to block the shot.
ONE. He jumps fading away out of the outstretching arms of the opponent. His hand flicks the basketball towards the orange cylinder. All eyes track the ball arc through the air.
ZERO- The buzzer is barely heard over of the pandemonium of the home crowd screaming with joy. The TV announcer screams, “Nothing but net! He won the game! He won the game!”
Why did I get out of the game so quickly? I just stood there like a tree. I should have jumped to my right, but Adrian was looking right at me and I froze. He kicked the ball right at me, and I was an easy target. Callie is watching this game. Tommy said that she likes me. This time I am going to stay in the game for a long time. Someone get out now. I’m next. This time I won’t get out. Adrian can’t be the best in the game every time. I hope the bell doesn’t ring. Not yet. Not yet.