DotaStrategy.com - Brotherhood of the Game (Writer's Block Entry Sept-Oct)

DaMan2000

Godlike Posts: 2009 Joined: 19 Aug 2008 Warnings : 3 54198 gold

Brotherhood of the Game (Writer's Block Entry Sept-Oct)

Posted on Sun Oct 04, 2009 3:38 pm

Brotherhood of the Game

It was late January of ’99 and our high school basketball team, “The Destroyers”, had recently advanced to the playoff finals. A couple of weeks prior to that, my best friend Mike and I played the game of our lives. It was against Dawson, and the situation we were in was not good at all. We were the last seed in the playoffs, and we were playing against the best team in our league. Our team’s best player, Angus MacRough was injured in a tournament game, and our coach told us that he was going to be out for the rest of the season. Angus was one of those players that you could always depend on. He was 6’9”, 270 pounds of solid muscle. He was capable of absorbing every rebound that came from the basket. Angus played the game of basketball with passion. He was real competitive. He once put a hole through a door in frustration because he had lost a game of checkers. When it came to shooting a basketball, he would be very precise to put the ball right in the very middle of the hoop. He would sometimes be upset about winning by only 30 points against a bad team. Angus twisted his ankle really badly when he jumped for a rebound and landed on an opponent’s foot. Ironically, the opponent also had to be taken the hospital because of multiple fractures to his foot. When word got out that Angus was going to miss the rest of the season, the entire school mourned the loss of such a great athlete. Since then, our team lost 6 games in a row and was on the course to being the worst team in our league. But a life changing event happened when we were playing against Dawson. The day before the game, a large snow storm hit the city which blocked most of the roads in Dawson’s area. Dawson’s “big five” starting line up was unable to arrive at the game, so their team had to rely on its bench warmers. I have to say, that game we played was easier than playing against elementary school kids. Our team scored 42 points in the first quarter, and by the end of the first half, we were leading 97-6. This sudden surge of confidence had our team going. We played the best game we’ve played since Angus’ injury. At the end of the game, we won 248-10. I scored 86 points and also had 48 assists and 18 steals. Mike had 125 points and 24 blocked shots. I set the record for the most assists and steals in a single game, while Mike set the record for the most points, and blocked shots. The next day, we were on the front cover of sports illustrated and the front page of numerous national newspapers. But no matter how well we played in that game, our next game was going to be completely different.

It was the morning of February 6th and I had just arrived at school for our morning practice. As I entered the gym, the first thing I heard was my coach yelling at me.
“Y’all should’ve arrived earlier! The more practice time we get, the better we become.”
I quickly got changed and began my practice routine. I picked up a basketball and shot from every corner of the three-point line. I made seven shots out of ten attempts. Not bad for a sixteen-year-old.
“What kind of shooting is that, Pete?” hollered Coach James. “I’ve seen chimps swishing basketballs better that you!”
That was the type of encouragement that Coach James often used. He would always be yelling and screaming at you with full force. No matter how well you did, he would always think of some way to criticize you and put you down. Even if you do everything perfectly, it still wouldn’t be good enough to please him.
For the rest of the practice, our team reviewed our plays and practiced them. Coach James helped us correct our mistakes and gave us pointers. After the practice, Mike and I went to the sports office to check on our playoff standings. It turns out; our win against Dawson two weeks ago was good enough to get us into the playoff finals. We will be playing against the “Tormentors” of East River High School for the championship. East River’s basketball team had only one good basketball player. Manus “The Mad Man” Howard was the best player in our league. His nickname was the perfect description for him. He had the endurance of a marathon runner, while maintaining the physique of a body builder. During games, he would become restless. He would sprint up and down the court for the entire game without breaking a sweat. But thankfully, the same cannot be said about his teammates. If East River did not have Manus, their team would be dead last in our league. Their entire team’s offence revolves around Manus. This was probably why their home fans always cheered “Pass the ball to Manus,” when they were losing. But despite all this, there was one weakness in Manus’ game. He was a terrible free throw shooter. Having Manus shoot a free throw is basically the same as giving the other team the ball. Many say that Manus doesn’t know his own strength, and over-shoots his shots. But no matter how many times you send him to the free-throw line, he will always dribble down the court on the next possession and dunk the ball before you could lay a hand on him.

On the day of the game, our team arrived at East River 30 minutes late. Coach James wasn’t very happy about our late arrival. Because it was mandatory for the game to begin at 3:00pm, our team had only five minutes to warm up. We rushed to get changed, and got ourselves all warmed up just before tip-off. The game was about to begin with Mike taking the jump against Manus. The referee threw the ball into the air. Before Mike could even react, Manus tipped the ball back and began running up the court. On their first possession, Manus the Mad Man drove the ball into the paint and finished with a dunk. Our team quickly got back into the game with a shot by Harold. The first half of the game was pretty much neck and neck. The score by halftime was 32-30.
When the second half began, everything was completely different. Manus drove the ball on every possession, and we just couldn’t stop him. I attempted to block his path to the basket, but he simply went right through me. I soared ten feet back, but luckily, I landed softly on a mat. At the end of the third quarter, we were trailing 58-46.
“What the hell are you guys doing?” yelled Coach James. “When Manus drives the ball, don’t just let him. Stop him! Foul him!”
“But we can’t,” I said hesitantly. “We get destroyed when we try to block him. He’s too aggressive.”
“Well in that case, give him a taste of his own medicine. Foul him hard! Give him an elbow to the face! Make him pay for scoring in your basket!”
“Alright coach, we’ll make him work for every point.”
“One, two, three Destroyers!”
When the fourth quarter began, I got the ball and I quickly dribbled down court. I got a pass off to Mike, who immediately drained the short jumper. Manus received the inbound pass and headed up court. When he had reached the top of the key, he drove the ball into the lane. Right away, I fouled him hard and he missed the off-balanced attempt. Just as we planned, Manus missed the two free throws and once again we had possession of the ball. For the first eight minutes of the fourth quarter, we fouled Manus every time he shot. Our strategy was working and soon we were back in the game with the score tied 60-60. East River took a time out and our team finally had a chance to take a break.
“I can’t go on like this,” said Mike. “I’m exhausted, and in pain. I’m scared that Manus will tear me n’ half the next time he drives to the hoop.”
“Hang in there,” I replied. “There’s only four minutes left in the game.”
The referee blew the whistle to signal us back in. The final four minutes began with East River inbounding the ball. Manus received the pass and took the ball to the basket. Mike followed Coach James’ instructions and grabbed onto Manus’ arms just as he was about to shoot. Mike was called for the foul, which sent Manus tumbling onto the floor.
“Yo man, what was that?” roared Manus.
“It’s called a foul, and we ain’t gonna let you score.”
“Don’t touch me again,” warned Manus, “or I’ll break your neck!”
Manus took two free throws and made one-of-two. Our team got the rebound off Manus’ miss, and began dribbling up court. Out of nowhere, Manus stole the ball out of Harold’s hands and began a fast break. I ran back to try to catch him, but my speed was no match for his swiftness. Manus dunked the ball and the entire East lake home crowd got on their feet to cheer him on. My immediate reaction was to quiet the crowd with a basket. I pulled up for a shot from the left wing. Just as I was in the middle of the air, Manus jumps and slaps the ball away from my hands. Once again, Manus dunked the ball off a steal and before we knew it, we were down 65-60. Coach James called a time out and we staggered to our bench.
“You guys disgust me!” yelled Coach James. “I wanna see you guys stop making silly mistakes and score some baskets. The next time Manus drives to the basket, cease him immediately. Don’t even let him release the ball!”
Our team walked back onto he court, all pumped up by Coach James’ pep talk. I received the inbound pass and took a 3-point shot. The ball bounced off the rim and Manus received the rebound. We quickly ran back to our defensive positions. I turned around, and the next thing I saw was Mike tackling Manus as he took a shot. Manus by now was fuming. He walked up to Mike and gave him a blow to the face. The entire gym was in shock. Mike immediately fell to the ground unconscious. The referee blew his whistle to signal a technical foul. I quickly ran to Mike’s side to see if he was ok. When I had noticed swelling on one side of his face, I knew that the injury was going to be serious. I marched up to Manus and began screaming at him.
“What the hell what that for,” I hollered at Manus.
Manus didn’t say word and took a swing at my gut. Fortunately, I evaded his punch and stepped back. I knew that if I had a scrap with Manus, I would end up in the hospital, or worse, in a cemetery. The team officials quickly separated the two teams and called an ambulance to have Mike treated. I sat back on the bench in anger. After Mike was taken away by the paramedics, we continued our game. Manus was ejected from the game and East Lake had to depend on the rest of their players to win. I was extremely mad about what had happened and wanted to hurt East River’s other players. However, I knew that Mike would have preferred a trophy to bring back to the school than for revenge. I controlled myself for the rest of the game and our team scored 15 points in the final two minutes to seal the victory.
A week later, Mike was back at school. He was his usual self again except with a scar on his face. Mike thanked me for being there for him when he was injured and for doing the right thing; for winning the championship instead of winning the brawl. That day, I knew that I had done the right thing. I learned that we should never let our emotions control us. Instead, we should “refrain from anger, and turn from wrath.” Psalm 37:8.
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Read my Writer's Block Entry for Sept-Oct

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Betcha didnt see this, did you? XD