The cheering of the crowd and cheerleaders on the basketball court roared around the Laker locker room. I didn't need to be on the courts to know that my family was amongst the cheering crowd. The thought of it tied my already queasy stomach into knots. Feeling ill, I flopped onto the bench and buried my face in my hand. I attempted to put myself in an imaginary bubble to block out all the noise I heard around me.
"Imaginary bubble." I kept whispering to myself. "Imaginary bubble."
"What bubble?" Chad asked, sliding in next to me. I jumped at Chad's touch, and my hand flew to my chest.
I let out a relieved breath. "Chad, you scared me."
He quickly removed his hand and noticed my face was pale. "Hoops, you're not looking too hot. You sure you're OK?"
I nodded, "I'm just nervous about playing in front of my family."
The lights went dim as a shadow cast over us. A chill ran down my spine, and I paused before turning to see who it was. Towering over was our six-foot-two-inch point guard, Jared. He had his arms folded across his puffed-out chest and a no-nonsense look on his face.
"So I heard your family is here watching tonight." Jared boomed.
I felt another chill run down my spine. Trouble was coming. My mouth was open, and nothing came out. Finally, I managed a slight nod.
Chad wasn't so scared, though. "So what if Troy's family is here?"
Chad stood just a few inches short of Jared. But he was not afraid of him. There was some kind of fire in Chad's eyes, and he looked like he was ready to fight Jared if he had to.
"Well, I was hoping that Cinderella over there might be motivated to put in an effort today and show us that he knows a thing or two about playing basketball."
Oh no, not good. Chad had his hands balled in a fist, ready to take Jared out. I was about to step in when someone else beat me to it.
"I see everyone is bursting with energy." Coach greeted us. "So how about we try using some of that energy in our game against the Knicks?"
Everyone got Coach's hint and went back to their lockers. I pulled Chad aside before anything else could get him fired up.
"I thought you were really going to let Jared have it back there," I commented as I tossed my bag into my locker.
"Oh, I was about to." Chad confirmed, "Jared's lucky Coach came along when he did."
I chuckled, fully believing every word Chad said. "Come on, let's finish getting ready, or they'll find another way to push your buttons." I stopped Chad before he got too far. "Thanks for having my back."
"Anytime," Chad answered as he grabbed his jersey from his locker. "And don't worry so much. You'll be fine."
I blew out a breath and sat down to lace my sneakers. I found myself praying that Chad was right and I wouldn't make a fool of myself in front of my family. Several minutes later, the Coach gathered us for a team huddle before the game. I moaned slightly as I gathered with the team, knowing I was that much closer to my nightmare.
After our team huddle, everyone pumped up for the game. Chad and I lagged behind as usual as we ran out to the court. I was sure I could hear my family cheering as we ran through the arena tunnel chanting Lakers. My stomach flipped and flopped, making me feel nauseated again. For the briefest of moments, I thought for sure I was going to throw up.
Before I could react to my nausea, we were crashing through the banner and standing center court. The game was sold out, and the bleachers were already mostly filled with a few stragglers running up and down. The sight brought about a new wave of nerves and nausea for me.
"Troy!" I heard Aspen call out through the crowd. I spotted her in the crowd with our family smiling as she waved. "Troy!"
Seeing my entire family there made the knots in my stomach worse. I shook my head slightly, seeing my mom talking to Sharon. No doubt she was the one who invited Sharon to the game.
My parents habitually included anyone they saw as our potential significant others in family outings. They say it's so they get to know whoever we're with early on, and they can feel like family. It worked out great if they ended up married, like my sister and Joel. But it only causes more problems when things don't work out. I could already see the clean-up I would have to attempt when they left.
I waved back, and Aspen suddenly shot up and dashed down the bleachers before my parents could stop her. As soon as she was off, so was Skylar. They were pushing past everyone and waving through the crowd like pros. I had to admit I was pretty impressed, but I could tell by the worried look on my mom's face that impressed was the furthermost thing from her mind. Following Aspen's trail with my eyes, I got another bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I grabbed Chad's attention, and I could tell he knew what I was worried about. We raced for the bleachers just as Aspen reached the bottom few steps, jumped off, and catapulted into my arms. I gave her a quick snuggle before passing her off to Chad and freeing my arms for Skylar.
"Unky Toy." She kissed me on the cheek with a loud smack and giggled.
"You two sneaky bugs are in a world of trouble." I warned, "you know you're not supposed to run off. Much less fly-off steps the way you did."
They gave us the double puppy dog pout. We both shook our heads with amused grins. "I'm glad mine hasn't figured out the cuteness of the puppy dog pout yet. Parenting will not be easy once he does."
I knew what Chad meant. My sister and Skylar already had me wrapped around their fingers with their pouting skills. If I had kids of my own, they could probably get away with anything if they mastered the pout.
"Bolton! Danforth!" Coach called over to us. "Care to join us?"
We turned just in time to see the Knicks coming out of their locker room. Suddenly they all looked huge, and I felt like I was being fed to the lions.
"We got them." Dad took Aspen from Chad as Braydon took Skylar.
They wished us luck before heading back to their seats. Chad and I raced to join our team. The Coach was ready to get the huddle discussion started. Coach reminded us of some of our plays and our positions. Finally, before he ended our huddle, he made me the jumper. I thought he was kidding for a moment. When I realized he wasn't, I gulped down my sick feeling.
This was beyond horrifying.
Please help me; I mouthed to Chad as we got on the court. He only gave me a thumbs-up before following the rest of our team.
Knick player number one suddenly caught my eye, and I did a double-take. Familiarity hit me like a ten-ton brick. I couldn't figure out where I'd seen him, though. Before I could get a really good look, he disappeared into the sea of other Knick players.
"Hoops?" Chad called out to me. I snapped out of my daydream to see him jogging toward me. "Everything OK?"
"Not sure," I whispered with a slight shake of my head, still in a daze.
Chad looked in the direction I did, trying to figure out what I was looking at. "What are we looking at?" He asked.
The Knicks finished their huddle and started to spread out on the court. Some of the players were still talking to each other. I watched as Knicks player number one said something that made another laugh. There was that familiar feeling again.
"Chad, do you recognize number 01?" I asked, still trying to place where I'd seen him before. "I can't shake the feeling that I'd seen before."
Chad turned to where I was looking. "Oh, he's the Captain of the Knicks."
"Captain of the Knicks," I repeated in a whisper.
"You may have seen him play for another team before," Chad suggested nonchalantly. "NBA players get traded all the time for various reasons."
That was a possibility. I bit my lip, trying to figure out if that was where I'd seen him. I didn't get too much time to think before a two-minute warning was made, letting everyone know the game was starting. The noise around the room started dying down as all the players got into position.
Chad gave my shoulders a reassuring squeeze before getting into position. I searched the crowd for my family as I headed for center court. I spotted Aspen on my dad's lap and waved. Lucky dad had a tight grip on her, so she couldn't escape again. She waved wildly until she was sure I saw her and blew me a kiss. My heart melted, and for a slight moment, I forgot about all my anxiety.
I stopped center court in front of the Knick's jumper. The Knick's Captain. I stood just under six feet, and this player was a minimum of six, two, or three. He towered over me with his muscular build, and I was reminded why I was so nervous.
"Good luck," The Knicks Captain reached his hand out.
I shook his outreached hand. "Thanks. You too."
"Ready?" The ref asked when we both let go.
I shut my eyes as I let out a shaky, nervous breath. When I opened my eyes again, I tilted my head, welcoming myself to my own funeral. The ref blew his whistle, and the ball flew up. I somehow managed to tip the ball just before the Knick's Captain.
Chad grabbed it and started tearing down the court. All the players were right behind him. I stood smiling for a moment, dazed that I had finally managed to do something right. The Knick's Captain called out to me, making sure I was OK before he raced after the others.
As I sprinted off down the court, I thought I might not be a complete disgrace today. Maybe I could play well enough to at least keep up with everyone else.
That hope was short-lived.
I didn't even make it to other players before someone passed me the ball. Before I could wrap my head around what was happening, one of the Knicks players stole the ball and took off back up the court. I shook my head, letting out a groan, as I raced after him. The Knicks Captain appeared from nowhere and signaled for the ball. As soon as he had it, he took off faster than before down the court. Mixes of groans and cheers could be heard amongst the audience when he scored the three-pointer.
Chad tossed the ball back in toward me, but before I could grab it, the Knicks Captain appeared again like magic and intercepted it. A frustrated groan escaped as I took off after him up the court, thinking this would be one long game.
The Knicks were taking another shot when I got up the court. Jared prevented the Knicks from scoring another basket, and Chad ended up with the ball. We were headed back in the other direction before I could catch my breath.
I watched as the Knicks blocked Chad's shot, and the ball flew straight into my hands. My eyes widened in shock as I stared at the ball. All around me, I could hear my parents and other Laker fans cheering in the crowd. On the sidelines, Coach and the benched players were shouting too.
I bounced the ball a couple of times and picked my head up. Taking a couple of steps back, I prepared to shoot. Suddenly I chickened out and searched the players for a teammate. Before I could throw it, the Knicks point guard stole the ball and scampered off up the court again.
The gasps and groans were not lost to me as I sprinted after them. I didn't need to see my parents' reactions to know I had disappointed them. If that wasn't bad enough, the game had only just started. That meant there was still plenty of time for even more disappointment and embarrassment.
I kept looking back at the clock as we played, hoping half-time could come faster. The game was passing at a snail's pace. Chad sank a final basket just as the halftime buzzer sounded.
The buzzer was music to my ears. I let out a relieved breath and prayed that Coach would sit me out for the rest of the game. On our way out, I caught a glimpse of the scoreboard.
Lakers-24.
Knicks-36.
It was a train wreck. The Knicks were slaughtering us.
Chad gave me an encouraging pat as we headed for the lockers. I was sure that Chad was the only one who hadn't seen enough of my playing skills today. My theory was proven correct when we were all in our locker room, and the team started screaming. Everyone was screaming over each other, so no one could really be heard. All I could hear was my name yelled repeatedly and angrily.
Chad was screaming back at our team. I prayed our locker room wouldn't become a war zone as I struggled to hold him back. If the punches started flying, we were all in, trouble-especially me.
"Why just settle for verbal abuses?" Coach asked, stepping into the locker room. There was fire and anger in his eyes. "We've already humiliated ourselves pretty well out there, giving the Knicks a twelve-point lead. Why not just deck each other out and let the Knicks have this win? It'll be a much faster end to this humiliating night."
Everyone simmered down, and I pulled Chad back down onto the bench. Coach ensured we were on the same page and reminded us of teamwork. Then we had a quick discussion of the game strategy for the second half of the game. Coach, thankfully, put Reese in and pulled me out. I only hope that was the plan for the entire second half and that I could warm the benches.
The crowd was still up and about stretching their legs when we came back out. Most of the Knicks' players were on the court or sidelines talking to each other. My gaze landed on the Knicks' Captain shooting free throws.
There was that familiar feeling again. Did I see him play for another team before, I wondered. Was that where I saw him? I wasn't so sure.
"Troy!" I heard someone call my name. "Troy!"
I turned just as Aspen came racing into my arms. My family was nowhere to be seen. I let out a sigh as I sat her on my hip. "A, you need to stop running off."
Aspen wrapped her arms tighter around my neck and settled herself on my hip. "But I want to wish you good luck and get some hugs."
She squeezed me tight and laid her head on my shoulder. "You still can't just run off," I stated, heading for the bleachers. "You're seven, which means our parents or another adult must know where you are."
She scrunched her nose. "You're an adult, and you know where I am."
I dropped my head with a sigh. Aspen is way too smart for her own good. "Nice try, A, but you know what I mean. An adult you came with. Now come on, let's get you back to mom and dad before they start worrying."
I headed for the bleachers with Aspen clinging to me. "Who's Chad talking to?" Aspen asked, pointing towards the count.
I turned around and saw where Aspen was pointing. Chad was on the court talking to The Knick's Captain. They were deep in conversation, but we weren't close enough to hear what they were talking about. Before I could answer her, I heard another voice above the crowd's chatter.
"Aspen!" Sharon's voice rang above the crowd. "Aspen, where did you run off to?!"
I tore my attention from Chad and the Knicks Captain. "Sharon," I waved her over.
Sharon turned her head and met my eyes. Her body relaxed when she saw Aspen in my arms. A smile was wide across her face as she picked Skylar up and jogged over to us. "Troy," she pulled me into a hug.
"Missing someone," I stated, handing Aspen over.
Sharon set Skylar on the ground and took Aspen with her free hand, releasing a relieved sigh. "Thank you. I told your family I could do bathroom runs, no problem, while they did snacks. I told this one to stay put for one second so I could help Skylar retie her shoes. Next thing I know, Aspen takes off faster than I could stop her."
I nodded, "yeah, this one is a little sneak for sure. You take your eyes off her for even a second, and you may have gotten yourself into a game of hide and seek."
"So, I'm starting to figure out," Sharon heaved out while she adjusted Aspen on her hip.
Aspen beamed a smile wide enough to show us her teeth. "I saw Troy."
"Next time, ask before you take off," I warned for the second time that day.
"Two minutes," The sports announcer's voice boomed over the gymnasium. "Audience members, please return to your seats, and players, please join your team. Two minutes."
Sharon headed back to the bleachers with Skylar and Aspen at hand. I headed for the rest of the team. I headed for the rest of my team. I pulled Chad aside for a quick chat before he headed back onto the court.
"So, what were you talking to the Knicks Captain?" I whispered.
"Clips notes version, just getting to know him," Chad whispered back. "His name is Miguel, and he didn't always play for the Knicks."
"So, maybe I did see him play for another team before he was traded," I whispered.
He nodded, placing a hand on my shoulder. "That makes the most sense."
The ref blew his whistle and ordered Chad to get on the court. Chad rushed onto the court, promising to fill me in later, and I happily planted myself on the bench.
I stole a quick glance in my family's direction, just long enough to see that Aspen was back with my parents. There was no need for me to see more. I know they were disappointed in my performance. Every game they've ever seen me in, in person, for as long as I could remember, I've never been benched. This was the first game they'd watched me play in the NBA, in person, and I was a disaster.
I was glad I got benched. As long as I was on the bench, I would be safe from further disappointing my family. I hoped again this was where I was for the rest of the game. My head dropped into my hands, and I prayed this catastrophic nightmare would end soon-very soon.
My hope was short-lived when Coach put me back in at the start of the fourth quarter. I thought for a moment Coach had to be joking. When I realized he wasn't, I made my way back to the court with massive knots in my stomach.
The ball started flying around the court before I could gather my wits. I couldn't wrap my head around what was happening on the court. The next thing I knew, I heard a hard thud as I landed on the floor with a groan. The gasps and ohs floated around the room. I lay there dazed with the wind knocked out of me. Shaking my head, I tried to remember what had happened and why I was on the floor. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw my family on their feet. I noticed Chad and Miguel running in my direction.
"Hoops," Chad reached his hand out to help me up.
Miguel reached his hand out too. "You OK?"
I nodded, rubbing the back of my head. "Yeah, I just had the wind knocked out of me for a second."
Everyone stepped aside, prepared for my free throws. I took the ball from the ref and stepped behind the foul line. This was probably not going to end pretty. I bounced the ball several times as I blew out a couple of shaky breaths, trying to block out the audience around me. It wasn't working. Blowing out one last shaking breath, I took a shot.
The shot missed by a mile.
Ah's and groans escaped from the audience.
My face heated up, turning red, with a feeling of failure and embarrassment. The fact that I was expecting this humiliation didn't help. I was ready to crawl under a rock; too bad I had another foul shot to attempt.
Giving up and resolved to my failure, I didn't bother to try in my next attempt. Taking the ball from the ref, I shot without aiming and didn't bother to watch what would happen. I only knew it went in when the crowd started cheering and clapping.
The Knicks Captain threw the ball back in, and the game was on again before the cheering died. The game's end couldn't come fast enough as I kept mentally willing the timer to count down faster. Thankfully the ball didn't find its way to me again until the last few seconds of the final quarter. By then, I was so flustered trying to keep up with the game I wasn't sure who was coming or going.
All at once, everyone was shouting something at me. It made the pounding and tightness in my chest worse. Every breath I took felt like a struggle. My mind was running a mile a minute, but nothing was registering. Desperate to get rid of the ball, I took a shot just as the buzzer signaled the end of the game-earning a gasp from everyone in the gymnasium.
I heard a chorus of no's, and my teammates dropped their heads with a groan as the ball sank into the basket. My teammates looked ready to kill; Chad was the only one who seemed to not want me dead. But there was a look of shock and disappointment on his face. Turning my head, I saw Coach on the sidelines, ready to snap his clipboard. Why's everyone so mad, I wondered, looking around me. I made the winning basket….didn't I?
The Knicks approached me and thanked me. "You were great. We would love to play again anytime." The point guard told me with a pat on my back.
"Hey," Chad started defending me. "Troy's an amazing player. He just had an off day."
I shrugged Chad's arm off my shoulder, feeling really confused. "What is…." I started asking as I glanced around the gymnasium again.
My eyes glanced over the scoreboard, and I did a double-take.
Lakers 50.
Knicks 51.
No wait….but….
The realization started sinking in, and I shut my eyes. I couldn't even finish the thought.
I had scored for the Knicks.
I was the reason we had lost this game.
This had to be my worst failure to date. I silently begged for someone to shoot and put me out of my misery. I should just crawl under a rock and live there forever. At least then, I wouldn't be such a failure.
I pulled Chad towards our locker room, hoping to de-escalate the situation. The Knicks were the least of our problems. The real war was back in our locker room. I could see and hear the fireworks going off already.
The dark, empty gymnasium matched my feelings perfectly. Only a tiny amount of light shone through the windows of the gymnasium's double door. I sat on the bleachers staring out at the empty court. Everything that happened that night was still fresh in my mind. I felt like such a big failure. Nothing that I did works out anymore. I was starting to wonder if I'll ever succeed at anything again.
I was so lost in my thought and misery I didn't hear the gymnasium doors open.
"So, how angry was your Coach?" Dad took a seat beside me.
I chuckled through my misery. "I'll let you know when my ears stop ringing, and I've processed everything he said. Or yelled."
Dad winced. "That bad."
I sighed with a shrug of my shoulders. "I'm not even allowed to warm the benches anymore."
Dad looked at me like I was joking with him. I could see the worry in his eyes. "You didn't get waived, did you?"
I shook my head. "Lucky no, but if I don't show some big improvement after returning from my forced vacation, I'd be singing that very toon."
"That's good," Dad pointed out the bright side. "You still have a chance."
I dropped my head into my hands. Memories of all my past failures at basketball came flooding back. "No, dad, I don't have any more chances. I lost my basketball mojo a long time ago. Chad's basketball boot camp was my last chance, and after tonight's episode of Troy Bolton's failures, we all saw just how well that's working for me."
Dad sighed, and there was a moment of silence between us. After a few moments, dad broke the silence. "Troy, your mom and I noticed you were off your game. We've seen you making decisions on the court that you wouldn't have when you were in middle school, much less high school or college. That's why we're calling or texting you more to make sure you're OK. What we didn't know was just how off your game you were."
"Until tonight," I put in before apologizing. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys. I didn't want to worry you guys, and I thought maybe if I lost it, somehow, I'd get it back over time."
The corners of my dad's lip went up ever so slightly. "It's not as easy as you figure, huh?"
I could hear something in my dad's voice. It was almost like he knew what I was going through, like he'd been there when he was younger. Part of me did wonder if my dad did have time in his life when he couldn't play at his best, no matter how hard he tried.
"It's not so easy," I agreed. "And the harder I try, the…."
"Worse you seem to get." Dad finished.
I nodded, " and the more I feel like a failure."
Dad placed a comforting hand on my lap. "Troy, we're your parents. It's part of our job to worry. It's in our job description."
I smiled, having a teen flashback. "I think I remember you telling me something like that when I was a little kid, and I felt like you and mom were smothering me too much."
Dad nodded, "I did; you were eight and wanted more independence. Your mom and I had trouble letting go, so you got frustrated."
I frowned, "I just thought by now, I'd be doing a lot better for myself, and you and mom wouldn't have to worry about me."
Dad shook his head. "Son, your mom and I could be a hundred years old, and we'd still worry about all four of you. All four of you could be super rich, having the best life, and we'd still worry."
That caught my attention. "But why? If we have a great life, you and mom have nothing to worry about."
"I asked your Granddad that same question when he told me about worrying parents. And what he told me was we worry about the people we love. We may worry less if we knew they're OK, but we'll still worry."
I hung my head, starting to get the picture. It seemed like basketball wasn't the only thing I'd failed at. "I guess that's why mom gets so worried when we don't check in. And why I get worried when I don't hear from you guys."
"When you have kids of your own, you'll be the same way," Dad told me reassuringly. "You'll worry about them just like we worry about you. We'll worry about them just like we worry about Skylar. We'll always worry about each other because we love each other."
I couldn't help but chuckle at the thought. I haven't had a serious relationship since Gabriella, and I broke up. The last thing on my mind was finding a girlfriend and being in another serious relationship. The prospect of me having any kids anytime soon was a big fat zero.
We were silent again. The silence was comfortable and allowed us to have a moment to enjoy each other's company. After a moment, I broke it. "Dad, did you ever feel like you'd failed?"
He bit his lip and let out the breath he drew. "Remember your junior year in high school? You started taking an interest in theater."
I remembered what my dad was talking about like it was yesterday. My heart ached as my face fell at another memory of Gabriella. "Like it was yesterday. Gabriella and I secretly auditioned for Twinkle Town, which turned the whole school upside down. You weren't too stoked either."
Dad chuckled, nodding, "I don't think I ever told you why, though."
I puckered my lips, trying to remember if he ever did. "I don't think you did."
Dad leaned forward a little and cleared his throat before saying anything. "It wasn't that I was upset, more that I was frustrated that I failed to understand you like I thought I did."
I raised my brow, intrigued by what he said. "Was that why you were so frustrated with me?"
Dad scrunched his nose and shook his head. "I was frustrated with myself. And I was afraid."
"Afraid?" I repeated.
Dad nodded. "I always thought that I understood each of my kids and that we had an open and honest relationship. But then you developed a new interest you felt you couldn't tell us, and I didn't understand it. I started fearing that maybe I'd failed as your dad somewhere, and that's why you didn't mention another about the musical, and I no longer understand you."
I pulled him into a hug. "You haven't failed, dad. Not for a second." I whispered to him. I continued when we pulled apart. "You and mom see and understand us better than anyone. I should have known that I would still have your support even if I didn't know what you'd say. Just like I've always had and will."
"That you will." He agreed with a smile. "So, how about a word of advice from your biggest fan and supporter?"
"Hhmmm?" I tilted my head confused.
"Ease up on yourself." He advised, "life knows what it's doing for everyone."
I narrowed my brow into a straight line, not sure if dad was right about life. "Even when it seems like it doesn't?"
"Especially then." He confirmed. "I bet right about now you're feeling like life doesn't know what it's doing."
"How did you know?" I wondered.
Dad shrugged, "because I hit a rough patch playing college ball, and I also felt all the same things you're feeling. I lost my enthusiasm for the game and couldn't seem to do anything right during that time. Maybe once out of a blue moon, I did. The more I failed, the more like a failure I felt."
"What did you do?" I asked, feeling an exciting story coming on.
"I went back to my roots." He answered simply. "It didn't fix everything right away, but my confidence didn't take any more hits. Which is something I really think you could benefit from."
I rubbed the back of my neck as I felt my cheeks heat up. "I'm that obvious."
Dad chuckled, "son, anyone who saw you play tonight knows."
"I'll consider it," I told dad with a soft chuckle. "But why did you lose passion, dad?"
"Well, you know how your mom grew up together and that she's my high school sweetheart." Dad started.
I nodded, feeling like I was about to hear something interesting about my parents. "You and mom even had a fake wedding when you were six or seven years old."
"Well, your mom and I broke up for a short time in college, putting me in a huge funk."
I thought he had to be messing with me. I've always thought that my parents have always been together. I've never heard of my parents breaking up. They were two peas in a pod and complimented each other. My parents not being together was not something I could even begin to envision. "Why didn't you or mom ever mention anything?"
Dad shrugged, "we never saw any reason too."
That made sense to me. We've never asked them in depth about their relationship. "So going back to your roots really helped you?"
"Sure did," Dad stated. "Going back to San Fran, spending time with your friends, and reconnecting with them may help you rediscover your passion for basketball. At the very least, it could help you get out of this funk. Now that you are forced to take a vacation, it would be the perfect time to head back for a while."
I scrunched my nose, debating what dad said. "It can't hurt. After all, if scoring the other team is not hitting rock bottom, I don't know what is."
We both chuckled and pulled me into a side hug. "Oh, I'm so glad to see you smiling. Things will get better. It's always darkest before dawn."
"I hope I start seeing that light soon," I commented and picked up the basketball next to me. "You know what I just realized, dad? This is the first time we didn't play basketball on a basketball court."
"Why don't we change that?" He suggested removing his jacket. "A quick one-on-one."
I removed my sweater and followed my dad onto the court. It was just like when I played my dad as a kid. We were both laughing through our heavy breaths. The score didn't matter. We were just playing for fun and enjoying each other's company, which gave me the best feeling in the world. It gave me hope that I hadn't lost my passion for basketball and I would start seeing the light at the end of my dark tunnel.
