The Game | Teen Ink

The Game MAG

By Anonymous

   The tops of my legs were burning. I was in a defensive stand waiting for the quickmoving point guard to get across the half court line. Move your feet, keep yourhands in the passing lanes, and don't let her go middle. Coach and my team werecounting on me, and I could not let this point guard score.

She made ahard chest pass to the forward in the center. Codi stole the ball and ran downthe floor like a cheetah sprinting through tall grass. I followed her, feeling asif I was running in slow motion. My feet were moving, but I could not seem to getto the other end of the court fast enough. My team needed me and I knew I had torun faster.

I looked up and saw Codi stop at the center of the three-pointline. Was she really going to shoot? We needed those points, but that was a bigrisk to take. She brought the ball up slowly. The shape of her arm and wrist wereperfect as the ball was gently released from her grasp.

I heard the crispsound of the net hitting the back of the rim - it went through! We all turned andcelebrated Codi's shot. My hand went over my head and she slapped it, making aloud noise even the crowd could hear. No time to celebrate - our enemies werecoming right back with determined faces.

Then the buzzer sounded loudlyfor what seemed like five minutes. In reality it was only for a few seconds. Myeyes jumped to the scoreboard. Half time and the score was 31 to 20. We werewining! A loud roar came from the crowd as we all ran to the locker room with ourheads held high. I had just experienced the best feeling in the world!

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