Basketball-Personal Narrative

I walked into school to be greeted by a janitor vacuuming the floors. It was time to start thinking about the game and getting my focus level up. My pregame ritual wasn’t always the same beside for one thing, be the first to the locker room to have time to think to myself. Walking into the light blue and worn-down locker room it was almost like I could feel the emotion from all the players who had been there before myself. I was greeted by a wave of smell, the smell of victory, defeat, and pure hard work. It was quite musty but I was used to it and had grown accustomed to it. I sat myself down and began to think about how I would perform tonight and what I had to do in order to be victorious. I pictured myself going out onto the court and seeing all the fans packed into our old wooden bleachers. All I wanted to do was make them proud of the team they came to watch. I looked out the window to see the vehicles of my fellow teammates driving into our dirt parking lot. Soon, the locker room would no longer be quite and it would be filled with the shrieks, laughs, and giggles of my

Basketball was a new experience to me a few years ago, but i never realized I was going to love it. When I was younger, I’ve always wanted to play the sport of basketball, and I got my opportunity to play when I was in fifth grade at Monte Vista Elementary.

I fell in love with basketball 7 years ago. What began as a few trial trainings gradually grew into a deep passion for the sport. I realized that I had the flair for it as doing moves like layups came to me very naturally. All I had to do was to observe my coach do an example once, practice the move a few times, and I got it.

Three seconds on the clock. This is the moment the team has been waiting for. Deep breathes, in and out. Desert Vista is up by two and this three point shot could win Mountain Pointe Pride baskeball team state championships! Suddenly, he gets a vision. All the hard time spent studying with his teachers, being benched failing. He is thankful for all the hard time his teachers and mentors have put in to help him succeed. He releases the ball just as the buzzer goes off. Silence. Fans gasp in awe. There is an uproar from the crazy, fanatic fan filled audience. He has won the 2013 Arizona State Championships! He sends up a silent thanks to his parents and coaches. Mountain Pointe students should be receive annual grade

It is the first round of the Basketball State playoffs, and with eight seconds left, the talented Northwest team is down by three. The star point guard speed dribbles up the court, the tension on and off the court is immense, the pressure is even greater. Everyone during and prior to this game, had witnessed a season full of promise, and the consensus conclusion for most recognized this team as the best team to have ever come out Northwest High School. This was our best and likely only chance for success. So as the point guard puts the ball up, time nearly stops, it has a chance, but in like in life, the game of basketball is unforgiving, he misses. As most made their pre-conceived predictions of the future, or lack thereof, a young sophomore and his Junior Varsity teammates, we were inspired by our elders walking off the court, and the doubters going home. Bonded together, and we believed we were destine for something historical, and mythological outside our small circle. Thus two years later the 2016 Northwest Varsity Basketball team, the discourse community, where I developed relationships with the people I still call my brothers. A community which has shaped my work ethic, and has given me the knowledge of the amount of effort and work it takes to be successful. All of which was in efforts for a goal not even pronounced among our teammates, to us the future was still a mystery, only realized to us a one

Our 8th grade basketball team were putting on a show! Opponents would enter bobcat territory where our team would play a hard fight to take another win. Every game spectators are left in astonishment after witnessing determination, willingness, and our spirit until the clock expires down to its last second.

Then later on Mudiay started firing and he couldn’t miss leading his team to a ten point run. Now the score was 68-67 with two minutes to go and the team’s tempo slowed down again. Within the thirty second mark no one was scoring, but when LeRoyal drove in he dumped the ball off to Kareem who got fouled on the shot. Kareem then stood at the line and took the first shot, Clank! There still was hope for Mudiay’s team. Then when Kareem took the second shot he drained it, making sure to not making the same mistake. With only twelve seconds left Coach James decided to call a timeout.

“Party at my house after the game!” I told my teammates jokingly as we got in position for what would be our last game of the season. All my teammates laughed. I felt almost as if the championship was guaranteed and all we had to do was kick the ball around for 90 minutes before collecting the trophy. “Whoot” the whistle blew, signifying the beginning of the game.

I continued to take shots and miss them, advance up the court, fumble the ball, and then turn it over. What I didn’t do was the look at the crowd, the score, the clock, or Coach Foley. The stern look on his face masked the aggravation, fuming, and unsatisfied mentality he had. His folded, muscular, arms, that could not be unwrapped, were cemented to his chest. His large, positioned feet were engraved into the sideline. His perspective had been changed about me.

3…2…1…BZZZZT. The buzzer sounded and tears flooded my eyes as I sunk to the ground in what felt like slow motion. I couldn’t breathe. As I looked to the left I watched the blue and gold sea of fans as they rushed to file out of the stands as if they were being herded like cattle. As I looked to the right I saw the scoreboard, both making the tears fall faster. This was our shot, one win away from making a state appearance in over eight years and we blew it in the sectional final game. That was the last time I would ever play high school basketball.

We are going to do whatever it takes to win. My knee was aching something serious, but I wasn't going to tell the trainer because she'd keep me out of the game. We took our positions for the jump ball and I was our jumper of course. I jumped off my good leg, but I still landed with a sting in my right. Off we went like a herd of bulls running down the court. This game wasn't going to be easy by any means. Both my team and the opposing team was knocking down shots left and right. I wasn't concerned with my knee anymore because my adrenaline was pumping. We had got most of our points from fast breaks and turnovers. I was starting to become winded, my ribs felt like they were going to close in and my mouth was so dry that my tongue stuck to the roof of it. I signaled for my sub and waited for someone to come relieve me. I continued to cheer on my teammates from the bench and watched them fight

“Would I ever be able to play in the NBA?” is the question I sometimes ask myself just to find a little bit of joy and to make myself laugh a little bit more. Yes, you are right, I love basketball, I love it so much that if it could have a life, it would know me better than I would because it has taught me so many aspects of life that school couldn’t teach.

There was five seconds on the clock, down by two points, all we had was time for one shot. My coached called a timeout, “We need get the ball to Emma and Emma wherever you are on the court, shoot it.” Wait, me shoot the last shot…why would coach want me to shoot the last shot, the win or lose shot? “All you guys need to do is believe,” my coach added, “Now get out there and prove to all the disbelievers that this team can win, team on three.”

Rushing to the bench, I heard the referee call out “Timeout, Heat.” Everything was on the line with our team’s championship hopes foremost on our minds. As soon as we were all huddled up, Coach Drew began to lay out his expectations. “I’m not going to tell you how to play basketball,” he told us. “That’s your job. I’m just going to say that right now, to us, this is a championship game. If we win this, we move on to the championship. If not, at least let us fall valiantly.” We rushed back onto the court, riled up at the thought of our coach’s inspiring speech. The crowd, encouraging as always, chanted our names. With just sixteen seconds left in the game and our team down by four, we had no choice but to do something special.

If someone told me something terrible would happen to me during basketball practice on that cold November night, I never would’ve believed them.