Hoops and Dreams

[16] Team Spirit

A/N
Included is a photo of what I imagine Darnell looks like. (Minus the whole Spider-Man thing.)

*****

Today's weather is in stark contrast to the storm we had on Monday. The sun is out in full, blinding force like she never left. Beating onto our backs as we run laps. My legs burn while we jog back and forth between the hoops. It's one hell of a warm-up. Specifically designed by the basketball overlords themselves to torture athletes.

It's a bracketed sprint between the edge of the court to half court and then again to the net. Then from the net to the end of the court and back in a seemingly endless loop. Affectionately named suicides.

It's the most demanding workout in the book. The quick changes mean I have to scramble to change direction every time Coach Carter blows the stupid whistle around his neck. Which is often.

But I get the reason behind him pushing the team so hard this week. Our game with the North-side high school. The North-side lizards are last season's semi-final winners. Not only are they well-placed favorites but nearly the entire team plays varsity basketball. This puts us, a team with no varsity players at a significant disadvantage. Worse still, we've never played them before and their techniques are completely new to us.

Every game of theirs that I've watched is wildly unique. They never use similar plays twice and it's hard to pick up on any one pattern.

But my vendetta against them is much more personal. And it goes by the name Marco Reyes. Marco is the shooting guard for the Lizards team. A big personality on Twitter known for top-tier trash talk and his inability to use spellcheck, sharing his many opinions and thoughts to the tune of 10 000 followers. I just happen to be one of them.

I like Marco, I do. Not to mention he's really pretty with a diamond stud in his left ear that matched his braces. A boy with class. What I don't like is the fact that he's the reason we didn't make it to the playoffs last year. He's a 6'4 brick wall of teenage boy who can tear through any line of defense without breaking a sweat. And he'll do it with a wide toothy grin on his face, right after telling you that your girlfriend was so much fun the night before.

True story.

Last night Marco may have called our entire team a very offensive word for a cat. But he softened the blow with as many smiley face emojis as the Twitter algorithm would allow. If he had been talking about any other school I would have laughed but it was my school he was referring to. And I didn't take insults aimed at my Irvine lightly.

If we needed any more motivation to win then it had finally presented itself. Saving face and proving Marco wrong was a major motivator.

After a grueling thirty-minute warm-up, Coach lets us sit down for a breather.

I press my hands onto my thighs when I sit down in a bid to relieve the cramp growing there. Around me, everyone assumes the same or similar positions. I told you this exercise was a pain.

Since Monday's drive in the rain. I haven't spoken to Darnell save for the rare greeting in the hall or during practice. But it's an unspoken agreement that on days where we're both headed to the soup kitchen we carpool. His argument must be something selfless like sharing a vehicle is good for the environment. Mine is I don't have to walk or ride my bike. It's a win-win situation.

Inside school, our relationship is largely unchanged. He has his friends. I had mine. Had being the operative word. After my rift with Anika, lunch in the library has become routine for me. It's almost funny how someone I talked to every single day is now someone I don't see anymore. Are all my friendships destined to end the same way? With gradual distancing and apathy.