The clammy air stuck to my face in the sweltering room. The smell of sweat and unclean basketball socks filled the closed in air. My breathing got slower as the clock ticked down. My feet were glued to the floor and everything was slowing down as my mind raced faster. I looked to my right to see the face of someone who didn’t need me there to continue on playing. Slowly, my coach stood up and scanned our faces searching for her next victim to feel her wrath of anger. We had a huge lead so why couldn’t I go out? Everything was crashing around me, the pain, the anger, the frustration. Every player had gotten playing time, which to them was nothing, but to me it was the chance of a lifetime. 1 min left. My eyes wandered until they met the eyes of my parents, I could see the disappointment emitting off their faces. I slowly bent down to look at my shoes when it hit me. I would never play this sport again. The last game of the season and the coach still wouldn’t play me. I watched the sweaty faces run up and down the court. My face would never ooze sweat like that again. Their breathing was fast unlike mine, which was steady as another foul was called. The dreaded buzzer went off after what seemed like hours. The echo rushed through my body slowly ripping me apart. It was finally over. Tears stung my face, but I managed to hold them back. My shoes were slowly untied, as I watched the ecstatic players, and viciously ripped off my feet as I crossed the court for the last time. I never looked back or cared about that sport after the final game. It was over and that was the best thing to ever happen to me.