Shooting My Shot

October 10, 2017
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As the sweat from my head drips down on the hardwood, the game is on the line. With my team down by two and a championship in the view, I needed to do something. There was only one minute on the clock and we had the ball. We had something to prove. We wanted to show dominance. This was what it had come down to. As I pull up to shoot the three, everything freezes. The whole game stop.

 

Walking into the stadium, you can smell the stale musty air. Teams running up and down the court. The stands were filled with fans, each having their own team to cheer on. The gym was small, but it could fit many. People packed in as much as they could, squished together like chips packed in a bag.As we enter towards the end of the game, our minds race, the thought of a championship running through our minds like a bullet train racing down the tracks. I had so much on my mind. I was confident in the back of my head, but all the bad scenarios ran through my head. I was the leader. This was my opportunity to be a champion. I had to keep my team under control without making any mistakes. I was nervous.


The game was a hard-fought battle, the lead changing hands every minute. No one ever felt in control of the game. Our hearts raced just hoping for an easy way out. It never came. It had seemed if the other team had our number. We thought we had made it this far just to lose, the season all down the drain.At halftime it was close, but we had missed our chances. We should have been up by ten, not tied. As we sat down, our coach was furious. He had as much passion as we did to win the game. His face turned bright red. He was mad. He wanted us to play like we had been all season. He wanted to win.

 

Then, with just one minute left, and the other team’s lead at just three, something amazing happened. As I brought the ball up, I noticed they weren’t playing aggressively enough. I called out commands from center court. As my teammate set a screen, I made the split-second decision that would change the game. As I set my feet, I leap straight up into the air like a cat swiping a bird out of midair. I bring the ball up with me and throw it towards the round orange basket. All eyes in the gym are focused on the flying orange sphere. Swish! The crowd erupts in cheers as the ball goes through the hoop.

 

As the final seconds ticked away in regulation, the game stayed tied. We were headed off to overtime. In overtime, we took control. They didn’t score a single point in the period. The game was won. As the time ticked to zero, we jumped around, screaming and shouting. High fives were seen all over, in the most enthusiastic slap of the hands. As they handed us our trophy, we celebrated, cheering louder than ever.

 

The moral of the story is to never get up. I was worried, but I didn’t give up. After that, I had a great time celebrating with my friends and teammates. This was important to me because I was a leader. This is why my basketball is so important to me.






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