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"Ball is Life"


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As I walk into the gymnasium, the sound of the leathery basketball bouncing echoes throughout the whole place while people yell, grunt, and run around sweating. Beneath my Nike’s I feel the wooden floor and see how gloriously shined it is, ready for anyone to run all over it. I take in a deep breath and smell perspiration and a variety of body odor all around. All kinds of people are putting in time here at the gym, whether they are tall or short, black or white, it does not matter. They are running back and forth, practicing their lay-ups, and taking jump shots all for the love of basketball because it is the best sport.

I open up the slightly heavy doors as I go inside the gym making a monstrous sound and bounces off the beige walls; not a single person stops playing as such commotion occurs. A cluster of hullabaloo is coming from basketballs being bounced, slamming off of backboards, and rattling in and out the orange rims. People of different ages all over the court shouting at each other as their necks became tenser with veins popping out, their voices also resonate all through the gym. These noises all contribute to intensify the whole game of basketball.

There is a certain smell to the court giving it a basketball feel. It is not just the stench of sweat coming from exhausted players. In game one can never really get a smell of what it is like; however, you can definitely get a whiff of it from the sideline and it is one resembling dirty laundry. Not only is there the smell of sweat, but also the most important thing on the court gives off a rubber aroma, the basketball ball. An aroma, which is very distinct to those who admire what power, the basketball really has to people.

As I go onto the court, my Nike’s grip onto the wooden floors beneath. I can feel and hear the squeakiness as I swipe my shoes against the floor. With the ball in my hands, it feels right. The heightened indentation of the black lining all around the ball connects with my entire hand, from the tips of my finger to the wrist. Pushing the ball down forcefully with my hands, dribbling down the waxed court. I rush by defenders, who are guarding me heavily; my arm brushes on theirs as if we are exchanging sweat. We make contact with each other midair as I go into the paint for a lay-up; bodies clashing as we grunted and fight as I try to give my arms an extra push to lob the ball inside the smooth, white netting to hear a sweet, swishing sound.

Basketball has to be the best sport around. The feeling of being able to take on any friend, rival, or strange whether there the opponent smells, colliding with them, or sounds of basketballs and hoops rattling. The game is full of passion, excitement, and momentum. Easily why, it is the best sport around.



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