This is a voyage through the possibilities of who he is and who he can be in various universes. I welcome you to a world of each and every characteristic of DeVanté is existing as a separate entity in its own universe.
created: 23 February, 2018
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"We are the tigers! Mighty, mighty tigers!" Rocking back and forth the chant continues as all fifteen of us young women bounce around in the tight knit circle. A high frequency of earned arrogance gathers directly above us before blanketing the team. "And... break!" The bodies split as I jog back to my position on the court. I should be playing PG but, this growth spurt lead to me being boosted up to SG. I'm a tweener, I've got both positions on lock.
Third quarter begins.
Right away, Tasha throws in the ball to Courtney. Courtney backhand passes it to me. She's feeling herself tonight and I'm prepared for her to show out a little bit. As long as she doesn't get all cocky and end up turning the ball over, we're all good in this hood.
I slow my dribbling down as I scan the play. "Iso! Iso!" I call out. "Jaliyah, gone!" Our center dips out into her position and I look around as the bodies of my teammates morph into a triangle all while isolating Portia, the Wildcat's star center. I eye the ball clock as it begins to wind down. I was calling for Kayla to just take it to the hole since she's already all in the paint. I'm waiting on her to cue me in when I hear coach yell.
"Just shoot Y/N!"
A ticking clock winds down to three and I bounce back with a low quality release. I smack my lips as it flies over heads, falling directly into the net with a crispy swish being left behind that causes for the gymnasium to loudly cheer. My poker face leaves the illusion of me being confident in my shot but, my teammates know I didn't expect that basket to be made. We all knew it. Kayla being right beneath the basket waiting for the rebound proves there was a sense of doubt being thrown out from every young lady in a blue and gold Tiger's uniform.
Courtney shouts, "Buckets, mama!"
Laughing as the cheers slowly, but surely, die down, I jog back down the court to d-up on Marshae. A distinct voice sticks out from the bleachers. "Ai'ight, baby!" My head hangs down with a sudden feeling of flames across my face. It could be the cheers of my boyfriend, it could be the work we've been putting in on this court. It is zero no space to play around in the second half. The Wildcat's are a third quarter team.
The spirit band in the bleachers are cued to play the root notes of everybody's favorite chant. "DEFENSE!" And the band plays, and they shout back. "DEFNSE!" Stomps, claps, snaps, among many other noises echo congruously with the crowd's chants. "DEFENSE!" Ain't nothing like a home game, I'll tell you. "DEFENSE!" The band's medium sized horn section takes the lead. They're accompanied by a ear-piercing rim shot given by the drumline.
My boyfriend, D, should be apart of that horn section and I know it's killing him that he can't be. The band's director didn't even make him dress in uniform. Partially because D is drum major and gets to do damn near whatever he wants, but mainly because he's fresh out of the dentist. He had to get a little something done. To keep it simple, in a year or two, his grill's going to be immaculate... as if he really needs anything else. It took me a minute to realize this but, now that I know? I'll never forget.
