Gregory Marliave
Competitive by Greg Marliave
Lilly jumped to her feet, covering her mouth with her hands. She held her breath, staring intently at the body sprawled on the floor as the crowd around her screamed and cheered. He lay motionless for a second, and the crowd quickly quieted. Her mind was racing, why wouldn’t he just stand up? Another second past, until she felt like she was about to cry. “Get up!” she yelled at the man on the floor.
Darryl quickly bounced to his feet; flashing a quick grin he looked at her and gave her a reassuring wink. The crowd immediately erupted again in cheers as he strode to the line to convert his foul shots. As he received the ball he eyed one of the opposing players and his mouth moved. Lilly couldn’t understand exactly what he was saying, but she could make an educated guess. In any event he would gleefully recite the entire conversation to her after the game. She really wished he would stop talking trash to the other players. She could practically feel the tension from the stands, and she was always afraid eventually he would push too far, and one of those big guys on the other team would slam a chair into the back of his skull while he wasn’t looking.
Moments like these were the reason he played, and the reason she often questioned whether or not she should come to his games. They were undeniably exciting. The crowd always got behind him, yelling and cheering as he dashed across the court. It was sort of intoxicating to watch him play. There was a passion present, an inner fire, which burned only on the court. They were almost two different people to her. “Dynamite” roamed the courts, slashing and flying in a flurry of movement. The intensity and desire he brought to the court was contagious, the crowd breathed in the air he exhaled.
But however much she tried to enjoy the games, she always felt like this towards the ends. The games were tense and stressful. By the end she wanted to throw up. It always seemed to her like there was more for him to lose than there was to win. Every time he hit the floor she cringed.
She looked up at the clock, it said 1 minute. Her stomach started feeling a little queasy. Tech was still down 3, and she knew Darryl would be depressed for months if they lost this. It was the state championship after all. It wasn’t that she wasn’t excited. But it was just basketball after all. She had grown up playing sports, so she knew what it was like to compete, but there was an obvious difference in mentality.
Darryl raced down the court, setting up on defense. He eyed his pray carefully. Lilly had met Byron a couple years ago at a party. He was eerily similar to Darryl. At least in terms of personality, he was a few inches shorter and, if you listened to Darryl, nowhere near as good a basketball player. The ball was passed around the perimeter; Darryl’s eyes were following it carefully. He suddenly jerked inside and intercepted an entry pass near the basket. The crowd roared, now all standing on their feet.
Darryl was immediately dribbling down the court the other way. She watched as he drove towards the basket and then passed it out to Devin on the perimeter. Wide up he released the ball and it arced through the air. Devin raised his hands in the air as the ball dropped through for three. Tie ballgame, Westchester called a timeout. Lilly smiled and yelled along with the crowd as Darryl walked right in front of Westchester’s bench shouting something.
Lilly watched Devin stride to the bench, getting high fives from the rest of the team. She was suddenly happy again. Devin deserved to have his moment. He was a senior, and one of their best friends. This was his last game and he had worked hard to get this far. He was also one of the nicest guys she knew, Lilly had once gone so far as to ask him to talk to Darryl about responsibility and life outside of basketball. A conversation to which Darryl had responded, “but then who would win you the championship?”
The ball was in-bounded to Byron who calmly passed it around the perimeter, visibly trying to calm his team down. The crowd would have none of it, yelling all the louder every time the ball bounced from one player to the next. Again the ball went inside, and again Darryl lunged for it. This time he was unable to steal the ball and the big man closed his hands around. Byron streaked past Darryl catching the ball mid-stride before hitting the open lay up. He mouthed something to Darryl as the crowd quieted down. She looked back at the clock, 6.7 seconds.
Oakland Tech called a timeout and huddled up. The crowd was much quieter now, and the tension was gnawing at Lilly’s insides. Win or lose, it would all be over soon enough. The inbounds pass came to Devin who took a few dribbles inside. Byron turned towards him, and Devin lobbed a pass over his head to Darryl. Lilly rose to her feet along with the rest of the crowd as Darryl elevated. The ball coursed through the air as the buzzer sounded. It hit the back rim, bouncing to the front before skirting over the edge. It hit the ground with a thunderous thud. Lilly closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. She could hear people around her drop back in their seats, and the screaming coming from Westchester’s players on the court.
When she opened her eyes Darryl was crumpled on the floor. He was kneeling, with his head in his lap and his hands covering his face. She started running down to him, but it was difficult fighting past all the other fans in the stairway. She watched as Byron walked over to Darryl bare-chested. He held is jersey over him and clearly mouthed, “there’s always next year.” Then he dropped the jersey over Darryl’s head. Bastard.
When Darryl finally got home he was exhausted. He hadn’t said a word to his parents the whole way. What was the point anyway, nothing they were going to say would make it any better. They couldn’t turn back time, and more importantly they couldn’t put points on the board. And neither could he when he had the chance. He was sick to his stomach. His coach had given the same tired speech they always give about how great the season had been. How far they had come as a team. How second place in California was a great accomplishment. Second place was second place…first place was a great accomplishment. That was what he had said as he walked out of the locker room. His teammates had been quiet, looking down as he walked out. He didn’t blame them; after all, they hadn’t missed the shot. He said all season if they got him the shot it was as good as a win. Now he was a loser and a liar.
He got out of the car and went straight to his room, slamming every door behind him. There he was. Staring at him from his desktop-- The picture from the local newspaper of him being held up by his teammates after winning the nor-cal. He grabbed the monitor and through it off his desk. He went to the bathroom and threw up for the next half hour. Then he went back to his room and lay on his bed. He closed his eyes. There was the basket. The shot didn’t even go in when he daydreamed anymore.
“Honey, can I come in?”
“Did we win?”
“Don’t beat yourself up over it, even the best players go through some rough times.”
“Listen to your mother Son. There will be other games. You will be back in the spotlight sooner than you know it. One shot couldn’t get those college scouts off your back even if you wanted it to.” Darryl heard a chuckle from behind his door.
Why in the world was he laughing now? He thought this was a joke? He just would never get it. Complacency was why his father had never made the NBA. You get what, maybe 3 or 4 shots like that in a lifetime…if you are lucky. Simple math then shows that he had just wasted ¼ of his life. And his dad laughed.
His cell phone started ringing on the table. Then again. The noise just made his head hurt worse. He grabbed the phone and looked at it. It was Lilly. He held down the power button and then shot the phone the miniature hoop on the door. It dropped smoothly through before crashing into the wall. He looked up at the ceiling.
“God, how you mock me.”
Devin walked down the hallway. Lilly had been looking for Darryl all day. His last class was done, so he figured he would try to track him down. There was exactly one place he could be, so it wouldn’t be too hard. There was one place he always was. As he walked inside the monotonous bounces echoed through the empty gym.
“The off season starts now?”
“Well, apparently I need the work.”
“You been in here all day?”
“No, I stepped out for some lunch at some point.”
“I guess your teachers thought you needed the break?”
“They will still be there tomorrow.”
“Yeah, but will you?”
“I will make it back eventually, just lay off a bit. Ok?”
“Fine, but I just don’t want to see you forget your priorities. You still have to pass your classes to get recruited.”
“Yeah well, is Shakespeare going to take that shot for me next year?”
“So that’s how it is, if it doesn’t affect the scoreboard you aren’t interested anymore?”
“No, if it doesn’t affect the scoreboard I was never interested. And that’s why I am not going to go out losing like some people here.”
“I am going to let that one pass, but you better watch it. We both know I wanted to win, I gave it my all and it just didn’t happen that day. Life goes on.”
“I wonder if you even believe that crap.”
“It was a tough game, you apparently need some time to cool off. You should talk to Lilly. She was worried today, there are people that still care about you, don’t forget that. It was just one shot, there is always next year.”
“What kind of bullshit is that? There isn’t always next year. There is no next year for you. That is the kind of attitude that is going to leave you in second place forever.”
“I didn’t miss the shot.”
“Fuck you. Get away from me.”
“I am sorry, can we just forget about the game?”
Devin watched as Darryl walked out of the gym.
Lilly pulled up to his house. It had been a week and a half and he still hadn’t been to class once. The only communication she had received was a message he left during one of her classes saying he wasn’t feeling well. She had worried constantly. The teachers were asking about him, everyone was concerned. She cried for the first few nights when she couldn’t talk to him. That had passed. Now anger seemed a more appropriate emotion.
She knocked on his door. No answer, she knocked again.
“I thought we already discussed this. Just leave it outside the door, I will eat it later.” She looked down to see cold meatloaf and broccoli sitting in front of the door.
“Can I come in?”
There was a long pause; finally she heard footsteps approach the door. There was a creak as the door opened and there he was. He still seemed a size too large for the room. He was all sweaty, and his knuckles appeared raw.
“So apparently the punching bag turned out to be a good gift after all.”
She glanced over and noticed a very tattered jersey on it that read “Westchester” across the front with a number 1.
“It helps relieve stress.”
There was another long pause. “I am waiting.”
“Then I don’t know for what…how is school?”
“You ask me how school is? Maybe if you showed up every once and a while you would find out.”
“Look, I am sorry I didn’t call more often. I have just been really busy.”
“Really busy? Too busy for school or your girlfriend? I suppose Byron’s jersey won’t beat itself up.”
“Look, can you just forget about him.”
“Why? You clearly won’t.”
“Look, just drop it. You know I have to do this. Basketball is my thing; we have talked about this before. You know that will never change.”
“Yes, but there is a difference between a “thing” and dropping out of school and never talking to me about anything.”
“Look, I am sorry I have been distant. But I just don’t need school anymore. I need to win. I need to practice. I need to get better. School isn’t going to help me.”
“Actually, this may surprise you. Stupid people need school too.”
“Look, if this is why you came then maybe you should just leave.”
“Don’t think you are getting off that easy. I noticed you haven’t eaten yet, how about we go grab something to eat?”
“If I have to.”
“You always were the romantic type.”
She tried to break the tension on the car ride. She told him about how school was going, and how everyone was worried about him. All the teachers had made an exception for him due to uncontrollable circumstances. She even managed to hide how ridiculous she thought it was that he got so many luxuries just because he could play basketball. It was probably the most annoying thing about him; that he always fell back on it. He never went out on a limb, never showed people how smart he was, how funny he was. At least he went to class before.
The more she talked the harder it got, and the quieter he got. It was like talking to an empty space. She was pretty sure there were computer programs more capable of holding a conversation.
“I know the loss was hard on you baby, it was hard for everyone. Maybe you could try to cheer up just a little? I promise I will make it worth your while.”
“Look, thanks for dinner. I am really tired, maybe I will see you in class tomorrow.” Then he jumped out of the car and walked back into his house.
She slumped her head against the steering wheel. Was he even worth it?
As the next few months went by they went out about once a week. Occasionally Darryl would at least hold a conversation, sometimes even crack a smile. She once got as far as stealing a kiss during a movie, but it was never the same as before. He was more reserved. Eventually she tried talking to him about the game. It took a while but he opened up. It scared her how calmly he talked about it. The rage after the game was one thing. But now it had progressed beyond that. She understood the rage; losing is never easy. The calm demeanor with which he now could talk for hours about basketball and nothing else was incomprehensible. All he talked about was redeeming his failure. He practiced every day four hours a day.
“I am glad you are going to classes again.”
“Yeah, it was foolish of me to stop.”
“I am glad you finally realize that. I understand how hard it is to lose, how angry you were.”
“I think you misunderstand. I have to pass my classes to retain eligibility. And the teachers made it clear they would only pass me if I at least showed up to classes. So that’s what I do.”
“So that’s it then? No thinking about more in life? No B average to get your scholarship?”
“If I get a B average that’s great, but I will be the same player whether I am at Duke or one of the state schools. I can work on my grades if I want to transfer from there. Plus I might just skip college.”
“Well at least you are thinking about the future, even if you aren’t very good at it.”
“Yeah, I was thinking about another thing too. I don’t think we should see each other now. I just need to focus on basketball, I don’t think I can give you the attention and care that you deserve.”
“You are unbelievable.”
He went to the gym every day for the rest of the year except one. That was the team reunion. Darryl knew he could get to the finals but he wasn’t going to get there by resting his faith in the work ethic of his teammates. Devin had taught him that well enough. He saw Devin in the halls every once in a while, sometimes he would greet him, but Darryl would never respond. No one else was willing to pay the price. To be the best you have to give the most. They didn’t seem to understand that. Or were just unwilling to play by the rules.
He spent the summer working out with a personal trainer, and then spent the remaining hours playing pickup and shooting for a few hours a day. He was always down two, always taking a shot for the win. He would take the ball with six seconds, dribble around his man and pull up. By the end of the summer he was six thousand nine hundred seventy one out of twelve thousand one hundred and three. 57.6 percent. But he was just looking to get to 50.
The next season he was hailed as the greatest player in Oakland Tech history. He led the conference in scoring with a ridiculous 32 points per game. He led by example, and he set a strong tone for his teammates. They may not have been friends, but he would make them into teammates. When the team needed a basket they would give him the ball. All he asked for was hard defense all game long. They ended the season undefeated. But none of that mattered; Westchester was the only real competition that mattered. They cruised to their second northern California championship. Then nearly lost their first game in states. Darryl almost punched his coach when he wanted to take him out to get a breather. However the fear of suspension put that thought to rest.
He flew down the court, one man between him and the basket. He eyed the boy as he raced towards his objective. The boy had no chance -- undersized, slow, tired, and visibly terrified by whatever exploits Darryl “Dynamite” was about to unleash upon him. Darryl crossed his dribble over to his right side, waiting for his helpless pray to make a mistake. As soon as the boy turned his head away, trying desperately to adjust to the new positioning Darryl exploded back to his left. One step past the free throw line he took off, soaring through the air he held the ball high above his head. The unfortunate boy was caught underneath him, and brushed to the floor. As Darryl slammed the ball home for the basket the whistle blew, sending him to the line for an added bonus. The home-crowd erupted in cheers as Oakland Tech appeared poised to tie the game after a thrilling second half run.
Darryl stepped up to the line confidently. He glanced over at Westchester’s bench and noticed Byron coming back into the game. Trailing by 14 at the half, things had looked bad. Tech’s overmatched frontline had been dominated. It was time for Dynamite to take over, he had led the comeback in the second half while Byron rested, now was his opportunity to finish the job. Darryl never would have sat out even a single minute of this game. Five minutes, all he had to do was outscore them for five minutes. Darryl watched as the ball arced off his hand and clanked onto the rim.
“Shit, focus.” Darryl muttered to himself.
“You are going to need a lot more then focus. But don’t get down on yourself, those free throws are a long way away, its not an easy shot. Though I can think of a harder one.”
“Fuck you Byron. Just take the ball down and dump it into your big man, you know you can’t score on me anyway.”
Darryl raced back on defense, getting in his defensive stance in front of Byron and praying that his teammates would find some small ounce of strength to at least slow down the opposition. Byron dribbled the ball down, dumped it inside. Darryl watched on helplessly as his teammate was easily out-muscled to the basket and Westchester knocked in the short jumper.
“Thanks for the advice Darryl, might just have to ride that one all the way to my second trophy.”
“The only chance you have of touching that trophy is in ten years, as a janitor at Tech.”
Darryl grabbed the inbounds pass and raced down the court again. He slowed down and set up the offense. Looking across the court at all his teammates he wondered whom he could trust. They needed a basket, and they needed it now. He was counting on a couple stops in the last minutes, he had to, but he knew they would not come easily. He moved the ball along outside. Darryl immediately called for a clear out and set up in the post, deciding to utilize his size advantage. He fought against Byron, holding his left arm out to keep position as Byron’s elbow dug into his back. He caught the entry pass and glanced over his shoulder to evaluate his position. Ten feet from the basket with a sizeable opponent hovering dangerously close. He started backing his way towards the basket, struggling for every inch. As he worked for position a man came in to double. Darryl immediately fired the pass out to the open man. The kid stepped up and knocked down the three. He was a freshman, and had been the only other guy hitting big shots all game. Darryl decided after the game he would have to figure out his name.
Heading down the court Darryl fought back the fatigue in his legs. He hadn’t rested a minute yet this game. Again Byron went for the entry pass, but failed to see the kid racing off his man to intercept the pass. Flying down the court he finished with a lay up on the other end despite a hard foul. The proceeding free throw brought Tech’s lead to 3. Byron came back down the court, and Darryl was itching to make a play. This was it. One more play would crush them. Westchester swung the ball around, as it came back Darryl burst out to intercept it. Byron grabbed the ball and spun back to the basket. Darryl turned and tried desperately to catch up, a step behind Byron he took off as Byron approached the basket. He reached out, straining to knock the ball away. All he got was arm as the ball went in and the whistle blew. One free throw later they were all tied up.
Darryl took the ball in the post again, this time no double came. Spinning baseline he pushed Byron away as he moved, trying to get separation. A whistle blew, offensive foul. Determined to get it back, Darryl hounded Byron all the way up the court, finally being broken by a pass up court. Drifting back into position, he kept one eye on his man while watching the ball bounce around the perimeter. As the ball moved inside Darryl burst, lunging out. Again he came up just short as massive hands closed around the ball. He struggled to knock the ball out, only to have it ripped away and kicked out to Byron. With no one within six feet of him Byron calmly set his feet. Darryl stumbled back towards Byron as he released a smooth shot. Down three.
“Too easy.”
Time out Tech.
Darryl walked to the bench, burning inside. He wasn’t about to let this egotistical brat beat him again. He glanced up at the clock – 2 minutes. Coach huddled the team together.
“Ok guys, this is it, this is what we worked for all year long. We are only down three. We can do this. We just have to play smart offense and aggressive defense. Darryl, we are going to be looking to you to score. This is where great players are made, we know you can step it up, we believe in you. I want you to set a pick for him, now lets do this. Win on three.”
“One, Two, Three, WIN!”
Glancing up at the stands Darryl saw Lilly and Devin sitting together. He smiled at them, Devin at least waved back. He understood why she was upset, but she knew he needed this. Maybe he would try to repair the damage after this was all over.
Darryl moved back into position on the court. He looked Byron straight in the eye.
“You can’t guard me.”
He took the ball up and burst to his right, Byron fighting to keep him from the basket. He planted hard and spun back to the left. Bringing his dribble high he feigned a shot, getting Byron into the air. One more step and he exploded to the basket. Help was too slow in rotating. Dynamite slammed the ball into the basket with a roar, the crowd echoing his sentiments. He was alive, feeling the pulse of the crowd cheering him on to victory.
Westchester took the ball down the court. They took their time, the crowd silent as the moments ticked away. They ran a pick and roll away from Dynamite, and he saw the guy breaking for the basket. By the time the pass got there he was a step behind the man. He elevated as the shot went up. Stretching out he grabbed the ball as it hovered in the air, and then, crashing to the ground, he burst down the court. On the other end he realized he was out numbered and slowed up. He looked back at the clock, a minute left. Waiting for the offense to set up he gazed in Byron’s eyes. He drove left, then stuttered. Byron momentarily lost position and Dynamite exploded back to his right. The help was prepared this time, stepping up and elevating for the block. He flew threw the air, rising higher and higher, stretching to get the ball up. At the last moment he took the ball in both hands, bringing it to the right as the man narrowly missed knocking it out of his hands. Then he slammed it back down. Tech up one. He was unstoppable. He just wanted it more than they did.
Westchester came down the court, again taking their time to find the right shot. They moved the ball around the perimeter, finally finding their entry pass inside. The man turned and shot, catching front iron the ball bounced into the air. He then out-leapt everyone, regaining possession of the ball. Kicking it back out to an open man. Darryl watched as the shot went up, traced the ball through the air as it sank through for three. Down two.
Timeout Tech.
Twelve seconds on the clock.
“Keith, I want you to get the inbounds pass, Nelson and Warrick, I want you both to set picks for Darryl and then get him the ball. If you get open at the three point line take the shot for the win, if its not there drive in and go for two.”
Darryl looked back into the stands. Devin was there, but the seat next to him was empty. He scanned the area but she wasn’t anywhere to be found. A problem for another day he told himself.
The inbounds pass came in. Darryl hovered by the three-point line, and then cut in hard. He brushed past Nelson as Byron went around the pick, one step later cutting back hard the other way. Byron ran straight into Warrick, falling to the floor. Darryl caught the pass behind the three-point line. He checked his feet as Byron scrambled to recover. He looked at the basket. This was it, one shot to win. Redemption. All the work and he could make it pay off right then. One shot to win States; this is what great players did. Setting his feet he released the shot. Watching it as it glided through the air. Out of his control now, the buzzer sounded mid flight. Darryl watched on breathlessly, oblivious to everything but the rotation of the ball.
Lilly stood by the door to the gym. They were setting up for the last in bounds pass. His redemption. Everything he had worked so hard for. The pass came and the screaming around her stopped. Darryl got the ball on the perimeter and the ball went up. She turned and walked through the door. She was tired of caring anymore. She had lost the game long before.