Spoiler
This short story is based off somthing that has happened to one of my teammates. She lost her dad (not the same way the character in the story did though) and she was devestated. I hope you like it!
Also this story was entered in a short story contest and it won 1st place!
I'm so excited. This is the first writing contest I've ever won!
Also this story was entered in a short story contest and it won 1st place!
I'm so excited. This is the first writing contest I've ever won!What more is there for me to live for? Where could my life possibly go from here? I have nothing left, nothing for me to look forward to; nothing except for the next basketball game.
The season is going good enough. We’re undefeated, but we have to play the toughest team in the state today. Not to sound like I’m bragging or anything, but I’m the star player. Without me the team would have trouble stringing together thirty points. There’s no way we’re going to win without me, but how can I play? What is there for me to play for?
My dad died just the other night. He was my cheerleader. He always came to my games, cheering me on and yelling criticisms at me while playing. I loved him. I probably loved him more than any teenage girl ever loved her father. He was my life, and now he was gone. How could I go on?
He died on a Friday night, the worst day of my life. I had gone to watch the guys team dominate in their game that night. I came home to two police cars and an ambulance in my driveway. I ran inside to find my mom crying, holding on to my dad’s broken body. He was home alone that night and two well known criminals had decided to rob our house. My dad threatened to call the cops and the criminals had beaten him to death.
My dad had died a heroic death, people would tell me later. But that still doesn’t change the way I feel about it. My dad could’ve died in a car crash, from an illness, had a heart attack, but he had to get beaten to death. That’s not the kind of painless death he was supposed to have. My dad was the nicest person alive, he deserved a better death.
That weekend I locked myself in my room and didn’t come out until Sunday night. My mom told me that I had to go to school the next day or I couldn’t play in the basketball game. I told her there was no point in me playing. How could I survive a whole game without thinking about my dad? There was just no way. My mom thought otherwise though.
“You have to play Sarah. Without you the team will be crushed, you know that,” she told me as she wrapped me in a hug. I cried in my mom’s arms; cried for my dad, for my life, for my team. I didn’t know what to do. My mom made the decision for me. “Listen, you are going to school tomorrow. I’m going to drive you in and watch you walk through the front doors. If I get a call from the nurse saying you’re sick, I’m going to ignore it. Do you understand?”
And that is why I am now stuck at school waiting for my game to start. I got changed as quickly as I could after school and picked a seat in the stands. The game isn’t scheduled to start for another two hours, but I can watch the JV game.
Eventually the rest of my team gets here and we are warming up for our game. The twenty minutes were up before I knew it and it is time to start the game. Normally I start, but tonight is different. I sit on the bench with my head in my hands, not acknowledging anyone. Coach leaves me alone as he understands what I’m going through. He had lost his father a while back and he was devastated. I’m sort of glad because he’s really the only one who I can talk to right now.
Before I know it, it’s halftime. We’re losing; by no small margin either. It’s half time and I’m stuck in the locker room barely listening to my coach’s speech. We have to try harder, run harder, blah, blah, blah. I’m not really paying attention. Before I know it half time is over and the team is walking back out into the gym. My coach pulls me back.
“Sarah, you have to play,” he begged me. “You didn’t play at all in the first half and look where we are. Down by 18, we can do better. You can do better. Please, for me, for the team, for your dad?”
He had hit the spot. My dad. My dad was dead, how could I play for him? God seemed to give me the answer with a whisper in my head.
‘He’ll be watching. Play for his memory.’ I take two deep breaths and try to stop myself from crying. I tell coach I will play and we will win. He smiles and leads me back into the gym.
The buzzer to start the second half rings and I lead the cheer. I walk out onto the court and the crowd gives me a standing ovation. They are glad I am back and ready to play. Everyone understands how hard it is for me to be on the court right now. I smile and think, ‘My dad’s out there in the middle of the crowd. I just can’t see him.’ With that thought in my head, I call for the ball and set up a 3-point shot.
Swish! Nothing but net and we’re down by fifteen. I run back on defense and follow the ball. The third time the ball comes my way I knock it away. Sprinting to the other end of the court I make a lay-up. Down by thirteen, that’s only four threes and one jumper. Fifteen and a half minutes later I had scored twenty-two points and we are only down by two. Coach calls a time out and I jog over.
“Alright girls, crunch time. Let’s run NC, look for Sarah. Pop out at the last possible second Sarah, got it? The shot clock’s off so we have 24.6 seconds to execute this play. If Sarah misses, someone better be under the basket for the put back. Got it?”
After another quick cheer, we run out onto the court and set up the play. The point guard takes it to the top of the key. 20 seconds. I stand still, watching the clock, waiting, waiting. 8 seconds, it’s my time. I race across the baseline, catch the pass, square up and drain the three. I’ve never heard a louder sound in my life.
I smile. I played that game for my father and I had won for him. If only he could see me now.
