My name is Britney Lamiah, and this is a story of my crazy life. When I was young, I played basketball because it was something that could calm me down in times of trouble. I was always a really good basketball player, so good that l played with boys instead of girls. During school, I was teased during school for playing with boys during brunch and lunch, but that never got to me. I played in the NBA for the Miami Heat, where all the best men players would play basketball. I was always considered to be one of the greatest players ever, which humbles me everytime I hear or see it. Now, let me take you to one of my games and show you how all of this started.

The game is tied 100-100 with 5 seconds left in the Fourth Quarter. NBA Finals. Game 7. Win or Go Home. No excuses. During the timeout, my coach, Steven Klarer, serenely said to us,
“Ok, so this is what we are going to do. Britney, run a zig zag to come and get the ball. Once you get it, take the best shot you can get. Ok, work hard on three, one, two, three, Work Hard!” We broke our huddle and inbounded the ball. I did exactly what coach told me to do, zig zag, get the ball and save the game. I grab the ball with 3 seconds left, crossover while driving to the basket, and shoot it. 3,2,1… Swish. In a sudden blur, my team comes rushing to me while I just blankly stare. We won. Confetti bursts throughout the stadium, each piece representing the little bits of joy and glory. We win the NBA Finals thanks to my buzzer beater. My buzzer beater…

Two months later, I drive home in my purple Lamborghini after a tedious workout. I fling myself onto my massage chair and turned on the TV. I turn the channel to ESPN, and look at its headlines. I read it aloud: “The only reason Britney Lamiah joined the NBA is because her coach bribes her by giving her extra money, says teammate John Tioli” While glancing at this, I freeze and drop my controller as it makes a “thud” sound. My life went “thud”, my fame went “thud”, and my trust of everyone went “thud.” This was absurd, crazy, I mean how could this ever happen to me? An innocent girl like me being accused for this? Wow! Soon, a swarm of people came to my doorstep with posters saying “Traitor”, “Britney the Cheater”, and “Go play in the WNBA!” I solemnly walked while crying because this wasn’t true. After this ghastly rumor, I thought over for days that maybe I should quit the NBA and do something else like coach or run a basketball program. I called the NBA commissioner to schedule a media report where I would announce that I would retire. I shut my window blinds to shun the people outside, and it was right then when I would begin my isolated life.

After my devastating experience as an NBA player, I coached a local middle school name Kennedy Middle School. I asked to change my whole name and have a plastic surgery so nobody would ever know who I am. The hype about the rumor calmed down, and now I lived a regular life. Life was fantastic, I was able to blend in with others without having to be asked for an autograph everyday. It was peaceful, with no vigorous workouts, debates, and games. But I would never forget one day, a day that would change my perspective on playing in the NBA forever. It was a cold Monday morning, and I was sitting in my chair at my house looking at all of my player’s profiles. Suddenly, my phone started to ring abruptly. I picked it up, and said, “Hello, who is this?” “Hi, do you remember me? My name is John Tioli, you know your teammate.” Are you kidding me? Is he expecting me to joyfully talk to him after he destroyed my NBA career. Or maybe he is trying to say something else. “Yeah, hi.” I reluctantly responded to him, hoping to get some answers from him. “I just wanted to talk about what happened, when… you know.” “Sure, talk away.” I think you guys are probably expecting me to come back, but I would never change that or my past. It would be preposterous to join the NBA after my horrible experience. Reluctantly, I hung up. I avoided my chances to get lurked in again. I would be all over And that is where my story ends.