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High School Basketball Narrative

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Sweat dripping down my face; using what little dry spots I had left on my shirt to wipe it off. Darkness filled the night with one light that flickered on and off every few minutes was all that I had to illuminate what was in front of me. Not even an hour ago there was about forty people here and sun shining and now it’s just a ball, a basket, and me. I dribble and crossover the imaginary defender, spins around the other, and finally finishes the lay up right past the last man. Just like every other day in the summer of going into my freshman year of high school, I was the one of the first on the court ready to play and the last to work on what I hadn’t done great on that day. Usually Abe, my friend and I guess basketball mentor at the time,

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