Always Fighting // Kyrie Irving

2016 NBA Finals- Game Five

Sabrina-

The atmosphere of the Oracle arena is one of hunger, of anger, of passion. But the feeling in the Cleveland Cavaliers locker room is one of blood lust, a thirst for vengeance, a desire for fulfillment . They smell blood and like the predators they are, they are ready to attack.

I left the guys locker almost two hours before the game started and already that was the feeling. I can only imagine what it's like in there now, surrounded by the men who want the same thing as you do and the weight of the game about to commence.

Oracle is packed with people, sporting their Steph Curry and Klay Thompson jerseys. It's a complete wash of white and blue, except for the few maroon and gold jerseys, which stand out among the Warriors gear.

I sit next to Dani, who's wearing her Kevin Love jersey, and scroll through my phone. It's all I can do to distract myself from the noise surrounding me. Some people, I think, are already drunk.

Even though I try to focus on Instagram, my mind keeps wondering to Kyrie. How is he holding up? He seemed prepared early today, like he was ready. Part of me wonders if that was all for show, though, if inside he is freaking out. Then again, maybe not. Maybe he's truly excited for this moment, ready to shine.

I exhale slowly as the players slowly reconvene, preparing for the national anthem. 

Kyrie-

We are here to protect our land, our title, our fans, our honor. We are here because we deserve to hold a championship trophy in our arms, drenched in champagne, crying because we were able to cheat the drought. This surpasses basketball for us, this has become about honor, about anger, and about proving to the world that Cleveland will become the city of champions.

Warriors fans stand up as we take the court, but their boo's are drowned out by the thumping of my own heartbeat, by the blood pulsing through my head. If their purpose was to distract us, they have greatly fallen short. When their yells do prick my conscious, it only serves as motivation. They feel entitled to this title, they feel like they have us under their control, they feel like we don't stand a chance against them.

They. Thought. Wrong.

I close my eyes as we set for tip off, reigning in all of my emotions and thoughts; chasing down every last nerve until it obeys my command. You were built for this, I hear my dad whisper in my head. You were made to be great. You were destined for these moments. Back's against the wall, what are you going to do now? I know what I'm going to do. I am going to prove to everyone what I am capable of.

"Let's go!" LeBron voice echoes in my mind as he claps his hands together. I watch him carefully, his eyes filling with the hunger that only appears in these moments. I watch as a smile slowly appears on his face. He looks at his opponents, Steph and Klay and Draymond and Iguodala and Bogut. All too slow or too small or too inexperience to stop him from getting what he wants. Revenge. A championship. History.

Just like that the game is afoot and every player switches into game mode. Bogut loses the ball right away and LeBron takes it away but has it stolen from Iguodala, who brings it to the basket for a two. Sloppy way to start this off. I close my eyes one last time before in bounding the ball. Do what you were made to do. I hold up my fingers to signal the play. I am here to be great.

We take the ball down the court, pushing the offense, and I swing out to LeBron. He holds it for a second before driving to the rim. At the last second he passes it back to me and I release it right away. That's a three, Golden State. Were are yours?

Klay takes a three and misses, but Curry attempts one and it fall in.

"You really think you can beat us at our own game?" Klay asks as we head down court. "You learn nothing from our season record?"

"Is that all your holding on to?" I ask. "A regular season record? What a shame those aren't gold and shaped like a trophy." I motion for LeBron to pass me the ball and drive to the hoop, kissing in a reverse layup shot. Klay raises his eyebrows, walking down the court and throwing up a three that goes in.

"Sometimes they are, Kyrie. What are you holding on to?"

"Here and now." I sling the ball to LeBron and he drills a three.

The first half is close the entire time, neither team willing to surrender. Neither team willing to give an inch. Ty Lue is insistent we can do better, play harder, faster.

We step out onto the court for the third quarter tied at 61-61. I can feel my body start to calm down, falling into a rhythm. My mind is still extremely active though, thinking about all I want to prove.

I make the first shot I take and on the way to defense I see Klay looking at me fiercely. When I drop my body to defend him, he presses in closer to me, tugging my jersey. I motion frantically to the refs trying to get a call, but they just shrug their shoulder, ignoring me.

"How's your girlfriend?" He whispers in my ear and I nudge him off my back. "Sabrina, isn't it? I remember when she was giving me her love."

"What the hell, man?"

"How does it feel to know she wasn't always 'your girl?'" He grins evilly, switching to a new play. "To know she was mine first?"

I try to ignore him but before I know it, he's back in my ear.

"Won't those family dinners be awkward? Eating in the same room with the coach of the team who's crushed your dreams twice?"