When I was in the 9th grade, I was on the school basketball team. We had an away game sometime in early February. Both nervous and excited, I climbed onto the bus with the broken windows, faulty wires, and the torn “leather” seats. Just my luck. We get the worst bus in the district, and one of the scariest drivers. His name was Merv, but everybody called him Swervin’ Mervin’, for obvious reasons. I don’t think that a person should be able to drive a bunch of kids in such terrible weather at such an old age. Back to the bus, the windows rarely closed all the way, and the alarm for the emergency exit was on the entire ride over. There went any hope for sleep. But I didn’t let that stop me from getting pumped.

When we got there, we parked outside of the gym, and it was locked. Stranded outside with the wind nipping at any exposed skin wasn’t the best way to start the game. Inside the gym wasn’t much better. Shoe’s scuff marks littered the floor, garbage flooded the bleachers, and a foul odor wafted through the air. Minutes passed like seconds as we changed, warmed up, and got our typical pre-game pep talk. Coach began to call the names of the starters.
    “Albert, Jake, Brandon, Craig, and Tyler. You guys start. Craig, you jump.”
    I was pleasantly surprised to hear my name. I’d never started before. Jake was just as excited as I was, and I could tell because when he jumped in excitement, the floor shook. Brandon and Craig walked over, slightly towering over me, and told me not to mess up. My heart was pounding through my chest. I matched up with the other team and stood, waiting for the game to start. But time wasn’t on the same page as me.
After what seemed like an eternity, it started. We won the jump ball and got a fast break that led right to two points. The game was off to a great start. What could go wrong?
Next, less than a minute later, my team had trouble getting the ball into the basket. Both teams swarmed around the basket, fighting for control of the ball. But all of a sudden, the ball bounced right off the backboard and was heading straight for me. I leapt off the ground and extended my arms toward the ball, but a shoulder slammed into my legs, preventing me from grabbing it. Knocked off balance, I plummeted down and landed on my right hand. Pain coursed down my arm, but quickly faded. Great. I totally jammed my finger. I actually broke my hand, but at that time, I neither knew nor cared.
    “Coach, I jammed my finger. Can I get it taped?” I asked.
    “What? Yeah, sure,” Coach responded. He gave me a very questionable look, but I couldn’t take him seriously with his newly shaved head and his green, beady eyes.
    He taped my fingers together and threw me back onto the court. Then moments later, I was caught in a fast break. I sprinted down the court, my long, blond hair slightly covering my sweat-stained glasses, and looked back just in time to be able to catch the ball with my broken had. It hurt a lot, but I didn’t care. I just focused on my options. I could either go in for the easy shot and get yelled at, or I could shoot a three-pointer and probably miss. So, I shot a three-pointer, and made it. Weight seemed to lift off of my shoulders. The rest of the game went by too fast for me to remember anything other than winning, of course.
     I recorded stats for the next game, but that wasn’t too bad. Two days later, the swelling in my hand hadn’t gone down, and the bruise seemed to get larger. My mother decided that taking me to the hospital was a good idea. Turns out that I broke the bone right below my pinky.  I showed up to school that following Monday with a brand new cast and sling.
    “Tyler, how could you have possibly broken your arm over a two day weekend?” nearly everybody asked.
    I gave them all a pretty generic response: “Basketball and a really sturdy floor.”
    I wasn’t able to play for the rest of the season, which really upset my coach. Jokes went around the team saying that whenever we needed a bunch of points, break my other hand and send me into the game. That never happened, though. I may not have played a lot that season, but it was still the best one that I have ever had.