Daddy's Little Girl

c h a p t e r 11

(Maurice:)

“Nice lay-up, Westbrook, but while you were tryna show out, Johnson was wide ass opened! Hit the wall!” Coach Robinson yelled.

“Fuck, man!” I yelled, slamming the ball onto the ground and going to the sideline with Coach Harrison. I got on the wall and ran the long length to the other side of the court.

“We all know you tryna be a Laker, but you can’t be on that Kobe shit!” Coach Harrison hollered as I finally got to the end wall and touched it, turning around and running to get to the other side.

“Them scouts coming to our next game in a couple of weeks, and they ain’t looking for no ball hog. They want a team player!” My breathing began getting heavy and I could fell the sweat from my temple burn my eyes.

“Whatever you stressing about, Westbrook, gotta go! Keep yo’ head in the game!” He stated, but I could do anything but let my stress go away.

I ain’t seen nor talked to Paris in two weeks, and I heard today supposed to be her last day in New York. I tried contacting her stupid ass, but she was serious as fuck when she said she was ignoring us. She ain’t talked to me, Pookie, or her mama and I thought that was foul as hell. I know she was mad with our decision, but gotdamn. I ain’t know a lil’ ass girl like her could hold a big ass grudge like this. And, the fact that she got it against the folks she ‘pose to love the most.

But, if she wanna play hard, then a nigga can forget ha’ ass, too.

“Aight, team, bring it in!” Coach Robinson called out after my 15th run. I stopped and bent over, grabbing my stomach to catch my breath. “C’mon, Westbrook. You can’t be doing this if you tryna be in the NBA.” Coach Harrison said, patting my back.

I stood up and made my way over to the huddle of my college basketball team. Even though I’ve graduated, I have yet been able to join the NBA. I came back just to be apart of the team.

“Aight, boys. Today has been a good, rigorous practice. I’m glad I broke a hard sweat on you all because the next game will be harder than this practice. We go against Uconn and I’m tired of seeing them whoop our ass each year. The NBA scouts will be out there to collect more players for whatever team they decide to put you on. Just know that all of you will not be getting selected. You have to put in hard work and dedication on that court in order to get yourself in magazines, billboards, even ESPN. I’m proud of you all and no matter what happens that week, I want you all to know that ya’ll are the best group of college kids I’ve ever coached.” Coach Robinson concluded, getting headnods from everyone. “Captain?”

I cleared my throat and let out a sigh. “Aight, Robinson don’ said everythang already, but no matter which way we go after the game, I want ya’ll to know I love ya’ll like family, bruv. Ya’ll all hoopers and I hope ya’ll pursue a career in hooping after everythang over. I’m tired as fuck so bring it in.” I said, putting my hand in the middle of our circle. The rest of my team placed their hands on top of each other’s.

“Them Knights on 3. One, two, three...”

“Knights!” Everyone yelled as we threw our hands up in the air.

I blew out an exhausting exhale and walked over to the metal bleachers to collect my things.

“Wassap, Maurice?” I heard one of my teammates, Stewart, ask as I pulled on my sweatpants. I tossed my t-shirt in my bag and decided to walk without.

“Tired as hell. Wassap?”

“I feel yah. Good practice, my nigga.” He said, grabbing his stuff from beside me.