Always Fighting // Kyrie Irving

Legends

Sabrina- 

For the second time in two years, the NBA Finals matchups will be Cleveland and Golden State. And this time, we are about as evenly matched as you could ask for. Nobody out from a dislocated shoulder, no one suffering from an injured knee. It's all of us against all of them. A chance to even the match, to settle a score. A fight for our livelihood, a fight for our title. That elusive championship, oh we're ready for it. More than ever. Make each game go down as the greatest we've ever played.  

A fight for our title. 

With a sigh, I pull back the ballpoint pen from the paper and look at the writing. I know it's typically LeBron's thing to do the pump ups, but I wanted to write something for Kyrie. So I dusted off my second major in college and started to write. I didn't draft it, which scared the crap out of me because I like things to be perfect. Instead, I printed out a picture of the NBA trophy and wrote my words on the gold background. 

Flipping the paper to the back, I start a new message, less of a general statement and more personalized. 

Every game I will be watching from the stands, watching you as you get a chance to play on the greatest stage in the world. Watching as you becoming the legend I know you can be. This isn't about regular season records, because in the long run all 73-9 really means is that someone else won nine games. You only need to win four. Is it going to be hard? Yeah, you know that already. But isn't every game hard? Isn't every game a battle that you're trying to win? It's no different. All that matters in the end is who gets the trophy. And I know it belongs to you. It belongs in your arms almost as much as I do. So, each game, when you go out to fight for the admiration, for the respect, for the acknowledgment of others, I will sit in the crowd, whether surrounded by Warriors fans or Cavalier fans and I will shout your name. I will wear your jersey, I'll wear your shoes because I believe in the champion you can and will be. The player I am proud to support and the player I am proud to call mine. So go out there and win us a championship.               

-Sabrina

I laminate the paper in case anything happens, and truthfully that seems a bit much for me, but regular paper is just so flimsy. Closing my eyes for a moment, I feel a smile spread across my face. The kind of smile that only comes out when Kyrie is right next to me. I take a deep breath and slip my purse over my shoulder, pulling on my Kyrie shoes, and drive to Oracle. 

This time, instead of arriving early to say hi to Steve, I go early to spend time with Kyrie. Of course, it's all to short. Just a quick brush of his lips against my cheek, and hug and whispered word or two then he's off.  He has interviews to do, pregame to prep for, has to be in his zone. So when he leaves to go do interview with the rest of the team, I slip into the locker room and look around for his collection of stuff. I place the paper on the very top so he'll see it when he comes in and leave as quickly as I came. 

Kyrie- 

"Oh God I'm nervous." I say, cracking my neck and swinging my arms back and forth. 

"No, dude, stop." LeBron practically yells behind me. "There is no room for that in this building. No room for those thoughts at this time. We're here for a reason and if you start doubting yourself that's not going to help any. Believe. C'mon man. We're from believeland. We do the impossible." 

I'm actually semi pissed at LeBron right now. It's seems the only words we get out of him are all this 'inspirational' junk. And I know now is not a good time to be mad at him, but for once I'd like him to say, "Yeah, you know what? The first game is always a little scary." Because I know for myself, once I step out onto that floor I'll be fine. I was made for those moments. It's just the waiting around, the questions of "how do you think you'll fair against the Golden State team," that bother me so much. 

I run my hands over my face, sighing into them and walk over to the pile of my stuff that spreads everywhere. On top is a piece of paper that I didn't bring. Bending down, I grab it and see the photo of the Finals trophy and words are scrawled all over it. I start to read it and a smile spread over my face, the kind that only Sabrina brings out in me. I flip it over absentmindedly only to see more writing on the back. 

This, I realize, is what I actually needed. I didn't need someone to tell me it's okay to be nervous. I didn't need someone to tell to get a grip. I needed Sabrina's words. 

How did I get so lucky to have her as my girlfriend? Some women might have been mad at how quickly I had to leave when they came to see me, but Sab? She writes me a letter of encouragement and slips into the locker to make sure I'll get it. Kevin was wrong when he told me no one was perfect. She is. For some reason, she always seems to know exactly what to do and when to do it, and even when I discover a flaw, it only make her even more perfect. 

I also realize she's right. We were made to be champions, we were bred to be legends. What happens on this court is a number on a stat sheet. What actually matters is showing up to do what we were born to do. This is a team game, not a one man show. It's up to all of us to play the best basketball we can play, to show the world that we deserve to be here. To show the world we are not afraid by a 73-9 team. Because we can be just as good. We can be better. 

And we will be better.