Dream Chaser

 CHAPTER ONE 

Agh ! The brightness of my phone disturbs my sanctuary of darkness to notify me my sister is calling. I had been laying in bed for who knows how long. I had blacked out my windows after what happened so I could just sit in absolute darkness all day. I had rid myself of many normalities such as answering phone calls when I had absolutely nothing going on. For whatever reason I decided to answer this time. My sister called to tell me my neice had made the basketball team. My sister asked me if I was going to coach her. How could I? I didn't want to be  outside much less near a basketball court. She first tried to guilt me into it by telling me I was my neices hero. When that didn't work she took a page out of the good cop bad cop routine by flipping to an aggressive stance. Asking me when I was going to get over it and make something of myself. So I just hung up and went back to the dark abyss which was now my room. A few days later my neice showed up unannounced. Apparently it was the 2 year anniversary of my game winner vs Duke in the finals of the Hawaii invitational. It was the first time my school had ever been invited to the tournament much less pulled off an upset against a team like Duke. Our starting 5 was all seniors and I was getting NBA hype heading into the season. That was enough to land us the invite. It's all my neice could talk about. That game. My shot. I had all, but blacked it out. My neice told me I was the only reason she even wanted to play basketball. The pain and regret blocked me from telling her I'd coach her. I was a shell of my former self even though it had been just 2 years since my senior year. My neice left crying. I felt worse than I already did. I stood in the bathroom just staring at myself. My palet of regrets seemed to have reached capacity. So I took a shower to symbolically wash away the toxins of my past. When I got out I took one last look at myself in the mirror before shaving off what was now a Grizley Adams beard. Next I turned the clippers to my head. Buzzing off what had grown to be my locks of lamentation. I strapped on my knee brace and left the house for the first time since I had locked myself away from reality. 

 CHAPTER 2

Our trainings started every morning before school. She expected basketball drills. Instead we ran at the track. I wanted her to be in better shape than everyone else on the court. As I ran with her to push her further I realized just how out of shape I had become from my exile. I had to will my body to push forward so she would keep going as well. A couple weeks past and she finally had her first 2 games. After observing her games one thing was certain. She was able to run just as hard in the first quarter as the 4th. I decided it was time to start going through actual drills with her, but only after her practices at school. The mornings would still be reserved for running. She was so excited I was finally going to start doing basketball activities with her that she didn't care about the extra work. So excited in fact she invited a couple of her friends to our first practice session together. Before we even started I was blind sided by 3 fifteen year olds chanting at me to dunk. They wouldn't let up. I couldn't believe I was letting these teenage girls pressure me into it. I didn't even know if I still could. I hadn't dunked a basketball in almost 2 years. I was nervous. Sweating. There were actual butterflies in my stomach. I knew the only way to get them to stop was to do it. As I made my way up for the dunk attempt I realized I wasn't going to get it down so I audibled mid flight to a lay up in order to save face. My neices face was plastered with disappointment. I told them I was just "warming up". Was I though? Not even I knew. I took a moment to take off my knee brace and stretch. Then I gave it one last go. This time my leap felt different. It felt almost normal. I successfully converted the dunk and just hung there on the rim for a couple seconds. I had missed this feeling. After I landed I looked at my neice. Her face was beaming. Then she turned to her friends and said "See ! I told you he could still dunk ! Now give me my $5 !" I couldn't believe I had been pimped out to win a $5 bet. I made sure to up our runs as pay back after that.

After a few weeks she was really starting to progress. She was a natural shooter and had that killer instinct on the court that made me proud. Her ball handling had come a long way too. We started watching games together and I would break them down more in depth for her. One night we planned to watch the Laker game together. It was a late tip off so we caught part of the pregame. That's when I heard the news. Jeff Bailey my old college teammate was active for the game. He had just signed a 10 day contract with the Lakers to fill in for some of their injuries. I couldn't believe it. He was the first player from our school to make an NBA roster. It was a bitter sweet feeling as I was happy for him, but at the same time I couldn't help feeling jealousy, resentment, regret. "Hey that's one of your old teammates isn't it? -

 I was so zoned out I barely heard her question. I half-heartedly answered yes. Then she asked another question that punched me right in the gut. "Weren't you better than him?" I didn't know what to say so I responded with "Some called me the best player in school history, but he was a great player too" Unfortunately for me her questions didn't end there. "So why aren't you in the NBA? You're better than that guy." I used to be. During our senior year I was Batman and he was Robin. Together we had our team undefeated and on our way to our first ever NCAA tournament bid in school history. It was what I had dreamt of my whole life. Ever since I was a kid shooting in my driveway I dreamed about playing in the tournament. Being a bracket buster. Being one of the reasons they call it March Madness. Cutting down those nets at the Final 4. I was on my way to living that dream before it happened. Before Covid-19 happened. The remainder of my senior year was canceled. It broke me mentally. It was the most depressing moment of my life. I fell to the floor that day and spewed puddles of tears from my eyes. My Coach told me to move on and get ready for the NBA draft, but I couldn't get over it. I started drinking heavily. School facilities were closed just like everything else and I had never felt so alone. One night I was drinking at home solo during lockdown. I had been drinking since I woke up that day so I was already fairly drunk. After I drank the last beer I had drunk me decided it was a good idea to go out and try to find some more. That's when I crashed my car. Breaking my leg and tearing my knee in a devastating accident. On top of that I was slapped with a DWI. Now no NBA scout wanted anything to do with me. No one wants to waste a draft pick on an injured kid with "off the court issues". That's when I went into exile. I hated myself, but also still resented the fact my shot at an NCAA title was stolen. I used that as an excuse. If that hadn't happened I would have never gone into depression which meant I never would have been in that car. It wasn't my fault right ? I knew that it was though. Seeing my former teammate in a Laker jersey made me realize. If he could make it. Maybe I still can too. I didn't think he had any chance, but look at him now just 2 years later. He's rubbing elbows with Lebron James! "You should be playing on TV too!" I heard as I stopped my flash backs. "You're right" I said. "You're Uncle is going to the NBA"

CHAPTER 3

That spring I worked on strengthening my knee and getting my game back. After my neices basketball season finished up it was full steam ahead chasing the NBA dream. I was connected with an agent that represented a few G-League players. The NBAs developmental league. I knew I would have to start from the bottom. Little did I know that wasn't the bottom. My rep had been burned so bad from my 2 years of inactivity and DWI prior to the draft that even competing in the NBA summer league was nothing but ash. I had a meeting with my agent to see what options I had. He represented a couple clients previously in the Euro League that eventually made the leap to the NBA. He told me he would "see what he could do." It wasn't very reassuring, but I stayed positive and continued my daily workouts. After a couple weeks I finally got a call. I was getting an opportunity to play in the Euro summer league. Living in Europe for the summer playing ball wouldn't even guarantee me a spot on a team, but I didn't have a choice if I wanted to get back to competitive basketball. It also carried a price tag of 5,400 Euros, but that was a small price to pay in order to be seen by European professional coaches, teams, scouts and managers. Well, here goes nothing. I'm off to Valencia, Spain where the league is held.