Jackson dribbled past the defender, it was the last few seconds of the game and both his arms and legs felt like lead. Nevertheless Jackson pushed on; he had to do his best. Jackson dribbled around the edge of the three-pointer line; his teammates were being excellently marked. Time was ticking, the clock was running down and Jackson had to do something.
Accepting his fate Jackson went back to the three point line and took the last shot of the game. Ordinarily he would have shot from mid-range but his team was down by two and Jackson knew he didn’t have enough strength to play another minute, not to talk about a quarter.
As the ball flew through the air Jackson’s mind wandered to his past; where he had come from. The glittering stadium lights were replaced with run out bulbs dangling from the street lights, the wood of the stadium floor was now concrete; broken and worn in most places. The crowd had vanished as well; there was nothing but empty air. Nothing but empty air, Jackson and the ball flying through the air.
And into the net.
Cheers roared from the crowds and Jackson was drawn back to the present. He fell on the floor in disbelief; he had done it. He had beat all expectations, he had passed the test. He had done it. As Jackson’s teammates lifted him up and presented him to the crowd, he smiled. It hadn’t been the reason for his perseverance but it wasn’t bad. A standing ovation was never bad; after all he had worked hard for it.
He had won the game that meant the start of his career and while there would be several more life-changing games, Jackson could finally rejoice. He could give himself his own ovation.
The Icognito Writer: A continuation from Late Night Practice