There I was standing 5’2 at thirteen years old. We were scheduled to play at the new gym. It was on the corner of run down and ghetto. The broken sign read Rainone Gym but the “I” was missing and only the dirt outline showed the remaining “I“. The door had a broken window. It was rusted and creaked as I opened it. Once I cracked the door I smelled oak and a little bit of pine. I played on many basketball courts in my day, but this one was amazing. The paint was as fresh as pie right out of the oven. The floor glistened  as the bright lights shined off of the hardwood. This basketball court was the nicest one I have ever seen I felt like I was Paul Pierce playing at the TD garden. 

Through out my life I have always saw basketball as my oasis. My dad and I bonded over the game. Not just playing it but watching it as well. I started playing in a league from the age of eight until now. I was tall and big and until I was fourteen I was the best rebounder in the league. I loved when I looked in the stands after every basket and saw my mom and dad give me a thumbs up. Basketball has always been my private get away, for the hour I play nothing else matters. The ball and I are connected as one and win or lose, I still have fun and love the game. 

Now My dad had left before the champion ship game because he had to go on business. My mom sat in the stands but next to her was an empty spot. Although my dad wasn’t  there for me, I came in ready to play. Half way through the game something inside me turned on and I played the best game of the season that game. It was because I looked over to the bleachers and saw my dad back from his business trip. My sneakers squeaked against the floor every time I got a rebound. The crowd cheered as we scored. The basket made a swish noise every time I shot. I felt like I couldn’t miss. With the clock stopped at 30 seconds left and my team down by two points my coach called a time out. He made a plan to give me the ball and let me take the game winning three pointer. I followed the plan. My heart was racing. I felt a thousand nerves piercing through me. I looked over to the bleachers and felt complete. Both my parents were sitting there giving me a thumbs up and waving. The ball came to me at the three point line and the gym went silent. The clock ran down from 10...9...8. I closed my eyes took a deep breath, looked at my dad, then I shot the ball.

While it was in the air the buzzer buzzed. The buzz was the only noise every one else stayed still and quiet. The entire gym watched the shot. What felt like days was seconds. Finally you heard a swoosh and the crowd roar. I wasn’t just a hero, I was complete again because my dad was finally back from Mississippi. 

I believe that encouragement comes not only from within yourself but from the love and support of your friends and family. The only thing that matters is if your happy and if you are encouragement should be easily found. Basketball is my everyday oasis. Whenever I am feeling down or non spirited I think of this story and I am lifted back up.