Personal Narrative: The Shrill Of The Final Buzzer

My first championship game, I was in the eighth grade. It’s like it was yesterday, I could see the crowd standing and cheering for both teams, both teams getting hyped up in a continuous rumble through the gym. We come out on the court as team captains meeting the other team's captains. Both teams have cold hand during tip off, they win jump ball and we immediately start to play M&M (Man To Man) defence. They score first and continuously score for about a minute and a half, while we still have zero points. Finally we get a steal and a score, that actually hypes us up. It’s going on 10 minutes left in the first quarter, we call a timeout. Coach says “Come on yall we gotta do something out there these guys are embarrassing

Both me and Kaden have 3 fouls already. Then Kaden gets his fourth foul, so now he has to be careful not to foul out of the game. Then with 1 minute and 59 seconds left I get my fourth foul. Then only 10 seconds later I foul out. My team is down to 5 players left. With the clock ticking down the two teams were exchanging baskets. Finally, with less than 30 seconds left the white team miss two key free throws. Then with the Rhinos down by one with only 5 seconds left to tick down on the clock, the Rhinos have the ball at half court. Jack Rush gets the ball makes a spin move to get a path to see the basket. 2 seconds remain. He shoots the ball. 1 second left in the game. The ball goes right in, and my team and our fans jumped up and down with excitement. The atmosphere was filled with excitement. The other team then with less than one second remaining chucks up a full court shot that missed by a

Squeaking of the shoes on the court thousands of fan cheering the name of a an Nba all star.The time has come all the hard work,blood,sweat,and tears are starting to pay of as He begin to look at myself in the mirrors as a Nba champion.To watch it all flash before his life the dream of life was finally coming true thanks to all the hard work and dedication.

My stomach twisted at the thought of losing when we pulled into the McDougal High School’s parking lot. I ran into the building where our coach taught us the new positions until it was time to play. The ref blew the whistle and threw the ball into the air. I jumped up with my feet dangling off the ground and slapped the ball out of its orbit and ran down the court. I could feel my heart beating, I lurched to a screaming halt at the three point line and pushed the ball towards the basket. I shut my eyes hoping it would make it. I heard the ball drop to the ground and the crowd that was erupting with cheers, I opened my eyes and saw my teammates smiling. “That’s a girl!” my coach hollered as I ran towards the sideline and sat down on the bench. We ended up winning by 2 points after two overtime periods.

After the Raiders and I finish setting up all of the chairs and the table, where the stat keepers and score keepers sit, I get ready to shoot around before the game. I look around and all I see is an empty court. Just looking at the court fueled the excitement that I felt for this upcoming game. It was the type of excitement that could only be satisfied once the game started. As the game drew closer, I could smell Franklin coming

There was roll call of the starting positions, however I knew I’d be second seed. The game began and so did my constant fidgeting on the bench. I gripped my fingers beneath the wood until my knuckles were bleached white. I picked at the maroon paint that lined my seat to bring my mind somewhere else. The numerous digits sprinted past me leaving me with a gust of air. I was surrounded by the constant cheering of fans from all around.

The crowd is cheering, the pressure, the weight of my team on my shoulders I take three dribbles and then I spring up and take a shot and. It was a December night on the day of the Oley Championship Basketball Game, against Oley. After the tip off, the game was in Oley’s hands. They played great defense, made a lot of their shots, but our team just played horribly and they were up by 16 points. At the end of the third the score was around 26-10 Oley, but in my head the game was not over yet because we still had 8 minutes to come back, and I always want to win. Nothing really happened in the first 4 minutes, but in the last 2 minutes I contributed with an assist and 5 points including a layup and a three.

That day still feels like it was yesterday, that day was one of the greats, we were playing the undefeated team for the championship. Boy wasn't I excited, the park gym was packed to me it felt as if I was playing at Staples Center. Before tipoff I had all these thoughts and doubts running through my mind cause everybody in that gym was rooting for the other team. This game was close as we both fought for the title, there were many lead changes in the game who knew who was gonna come out on top. Clutch time, fourth quarter ten seconds left, tied game, the crowd is going wild as it felt like the building was about to collapse. My coach calls a timeout as I run towards the huddle I glance at the score tie game with ten seconds left we have a chance to prove everyone wrong. This was it, this is what he feels, this is why we practice, I knew I had to make this shot. As we set up in our positions that our coach had scribbled on his clipboard, the referee hands in the ball and we begin to run the play, as i struggle to get open I knew the clock was ticking I had no time to waste as soon as I catch that ball. Finally

I hear the dribbling of the basketball that is just music to my ears. Each and every player are encouraging and motivating each other by saying stuff like, "Nice shot!" "Work Hard!" and "Don't quit!" The sound of the net after shots made gives me chills. Out of all the sounds I hear on the court; the net makes the best sound. While on the court the squeak of the players shoes, one after another gives me this beat I play over and over again. During games, the defense talking, and working hard to get the stop. All I hear makes me want to get back on the court as soon as I can.

It’s the last thirty seconds of the game. The score is forty-five to forty-five; it’s a tie. The crowd is cheering and screaming to the top of their lungs. You run down the court to shoot, but right as the ball slips from your hands and into the air, you hear a buzz. You watch contently as you wait to see where the ball will go.

The thrill of playing in the basketball championship game can not be put into words.

You step on the court and you hear the crowd buzzing. “Give it Wilt, Give it to Wilt”. You feed off the energy that's coming from the crowd and it's time to go. 4th quarter starts. Your teammates give you the ball every possession as the crowd is going wild! You score and you score again and again and again you can't miss and finally, 48 seconds left, you get the ball, the crowds starts to stand, knowing that this might be the one! You back your man down in the paint, you put up a hook shoot …….. Swish! You hit the shot, the crowd loses it, you did it, 100 points, the new points scored in a single game record!! You sprint into the locker room, the assistant coach writes 100 on a piece of paper, gives it to you and you smile and look at the camera! 100 points!

We congregate around the red “A” in the center of the court. Each of us is looking around, scoping out our competition. I pump words of encouragement over and over through my head.

“This is why I play basketball,” declares Savannah, “for the pleasure, not what the score is in the final seconds of the game.” We are all thinking it, but someone finally says it.

Where I am from bumpy orange balls with detailed black indents wrapped around the ball stick to my sweaty hands. The bouncing off the hardwood floor and off the backboard. The youthful cheerleaders their plastic megaphones pressed to their lips, their eyes glistening with joy. From the slamming of your body on the wooden boards and your eyes flashing open trying to figure out what happened while you're pulling yourself off the ground analyzing where your team is. The referee blowing the whistle your legs shaking as you take your first foul shot. Where I am from the number of baskets isn’t the most important but the effort. The vibration in your ears as the buzzer rings ending the quarter. As you drag your wearing