My mind traces back to the day,
The grade school basketball game, when I was the hero.
Though the memory enduring, my mind feeble.
For I cannot remember it all,
However, I know it initiated like this:
drenched in sweat, my body was fatigued.
There I was, number 13.
Or was it 23?
My mind raced, my heart began to sink.
My fingers tingled, and my legs shook.
Mom in the stands, screaming my name.
Or was it dad?
The ref blew the whistle, as it echoed through my ear.
My mind went blank.
5 seconds on the clock,
or was it 4?
Down by 1 point.
My teammate in-bounded the ball directly into my hands.
That was it, it was all up to me.
I jumped and shot it from behind the 3 point line,
or was it a 2 pointer?
The ball went soaring, time stalled, we all examined intently,
And the ball went through the basket.
Did it swish?
Did it bounce of the rim and in?
Did it clank off the backboard and in?
My teammate grabbed me and lifted me up, we all cried tears of joy, as everyone shouted “Wendy!”
Or did they shout “Anderson!”?
And if my memory serves me right,
It was the best shot of my life.