Find Me In the Club ( pgs. 8 - 10)

3

                Senior Year

Our senior year of high school was a strange year. I say this because it was a year of insight and revelation that caused my life to both expand and explode. The expansion was a result of my basketball prowess. I was not only going to college but I had my pick of them. I found comfort in knowing that I could attend any college with my best friend in tow. Roni had more offers but the majority of my school choices selected her as well; they wanted the publicity of having the top one, two combination.

The first day of school was rather uneventful; we, the basketball team, compared class schedules to see when we could get together and run through drills and plays.  We’d practiced during the summer but it was done without the new players .We also discussed who needed help to maintain their GPA; we’ve committed to the same routine for every year that I've played basketball and as a result we've had a strong team.

Roni and I both had study hall/college exam prep for our final class. The class prepared us for the entrance exams and personal statements for college applications. Roni and I both knew that academics were just as important as athleticism. Roni struggled with the academics but she gave 110% to maintain a respectable GPA.

Our walk home from school always included a detour to the playground for a quick pick-up game. We’ve played with and against the neighborhood boys since we first picked up a ball. We took our waiting place against the fence calling “next.” 

The afternoon crowd was there, lil’ b-ballers from the grade school gathering pointers and the high school girls, watching their boyfriends or trying to catch one. There were the usual neighborhood boys but there were a couple of new players who were playing hard and aggressive.

“Who are they?” I whispered to one of the court regulars.

“That’s them D-boys from around the corner. They had words with J-Rock and brought the beef to the court. I think they’re high.” He whispered back.

The two boys were playing hard, throwing elbows and trash talking in epic proportions. The court regulars were treading lightly because they didn't want the word exchanged earlier to turn into a bigger deal.

“That’s game bitch!” one of the boys yelled as he ran up on J-Rock.

“Yup” J-Rock responded as he left the court to gather his things. J –Rock kept his cool on the court and off the court. He has never been one to engage in any physical altercations because his game shut thing down.

He shook hand with his friends and told them that he was going to the college gym to play because he didn't like what was happening at the playground.

We should have followed his lead; we started to follow him until we heard.

“Y’all gonna be real bitches and leave before you even get up?” one of the boys said while wiping sweat with his T-shirt.

“Come play with some real men.” He said while he and his cohort both removed their shirts and made lewd gestures.

“Lez be real man, these bitches wouldn't know any men that’s why they are always together.” The other boy chimed in.

I was seething at this point. I chose my 3 other players and Roni and I set out to school the two loudmouths.

I played like a demon on a mission for souls. Roni and I made them look bad, doing so in belief that they would respect the fact that we were women with game and weren't afraid to show out. How wrong we were! We were at game point when the “lead loudmouth” threw a vicious elbow hitting me right across the nose. I saw stars and felt intense pain after the ‘bow and I felt the blood flowing almost immediately.

“Foul!”

I walked over to the sideline to see if anyone had a tissue of a napkin.

“Take it like a man!” my attacker yelled.

“She already does, that’s why she over there talking to the girls.” The other boy yelled.

I held up my finger indicating 1 minute while I shoved tissue up my nose to stop the bleeding.

“You alright?” Roni asked.

“Oh I’m fine. I am getting ready to bust this fool wide open. I’ve caught ‘bows before.” I responded sounding like Sesame Street’s Mr. Snuffaluffagus because of the nasal packing.

“Check ball!” I yelled as I lined up with the D-boy.

The crowd grew silent with anticipation knowing that no self-respecting baller was going to take such a hard foul without a comeback.

I started my dribble slow and deliberate just out of reach of the loud mouth;  I  looked up court like I was calling a play  knowing full well he would reach to strip the ball because he thought I wasn’t paying attention. I faced him head on, did a stutter-step that I’d learned from an And 1 basketball camp and left him standing flat footed as I took the ball straight to the hole.

The crowd whooped as I pounded my chest, did the Harlem Shake and yelled “That’s GAME!”

The D-boy was left dumbfounded but followed his own words and took his beating like a man.

“You got game and heart. I can’t take that from you.  You got more game than that bitch-ass J-Rock“he said as he shook my hand.

“Well you had beef with J-Rock and took that shit out on me. I didn’t do nothing to you and you called me all out my name and then elbowed me.  All we got is this court and a love for the game. Can we keep it? Y’all got them corners…all I want is a place for the kids to be kids.” I said while shaking his hand.

I could tell that my words made an impact by his response.

“Aaaaaaaay yo, shortie –ma Imma tell you again…you got heart and I feel you on the streets. I chose my way and y’all should have yours. I was out here keepin’ some shit goin’ just for the hell of it but you tryin’ to do somethin’ with yo’ game. Handle yo business shortie-ma” he said as he grabbed up his belongings and waved his entourage to follow.

                Roni and I played 2 more games before we lost our position on the court. I looked at my watch and saw that it was about 5:30 and I knew I was pressing my luck. I was expected to be home at a reasonable time so we could sit down and eat; my mother’s American values head trip. It was also imperative that I allowed ample time for my homework.

“Aaaaaa yo Roni, we gotta pick up the pace a bit because my mother is going to have a cow if I walk in the house after 6 and dare to sit down with this dirty jersey.”

“I wouldn’t want to be you right now cuz. She’s going to tear a patch outta you.”

“Don’t remind me. I don’t even want to think about how long she’s going to harp about it.”

“You gonna play any ball this weekend?”

“Yeah, most likely after I do my chores and find out what my mother has planned. She usually leaves me to do my thing but she’s been busy with little projects in anticipation of Big Mama movin’ in.”

“I know you’ll be glad that your mother will have company and that her focus on you will lighten up.”

I tried to sneak in the backdoor to get past my mother but she was in the yard hanging up laundry when I eased in.