The noise around me seems blurred; I can’t seem to concentrate on any sounds. I watch the cars drive past but the sound is distorted. As I approach the entrance, I see two young boys arguing over something, something that is most likely meaningless. They appear to be shouting at each other, but again my hearing can not specify what they are saying. I ignore them and carry on walking past them and into the doorway.
“In here!” shouts one of my team-mates as he gestures towards the changing rooms. I follow, and on the way I pass some of the opposing team. They stand tall, as if they were the skyscrapers of New York City, while I feel as if I am the pedestrian walking through the street surrounded by the soaring buildings. They stop their conversation and fix there eyes upon me. I look up and give a slight nod and a smile as I quickly head off into the changing rooms. Phew.
I get into my kit. The captain is talking to us. Spurring us on and attempting to install some “fighting spirit” into the team. Everyone retorts with “Yeah!” and “Grrrr!” I just nod acquiescently. The time comes; we must now enter the hall. As we do, the opposing supporters all stop and stare. They begin to whisper among themselves. Their eyes wander to and from each of our team. A girl and her two friends look at me. They then seem to laugh with each other. I just ignore them and try and focus on the game.
The whistle blows to warn us that there is one minute until the game starts. We huddle and decide the final tactics for the game. I decide to be the substitute for the first quarter along with two other players on my side. The players take their positions and the whistle blows to start the game.
Our centre jumps up and swipes the ball into the hands of our point guard. The game has started. The opponents set up there defence as our PG dribbles the ball up the court. He dishes the ball into our power forward, who then assumes the triple threat position. He jab-steps to one direction and amazingly fakes the defender as he runs the other way towards the basket to score the first basket of the game. I immediately clap the tremendous play, whilst looking at the shocked expressions on the opposing supporters faces. That was brilliant. The next couple of plays from our team all ended up with a basket; whilst the opponent’s offensive tactics were nearly all being broken down by our outstanding defence.
The first quarter ends 23-5 to our team. An excellent start. My fears of playing seem to be being overpowered by the team’s performance. The second quarter approaches and I agree to go on the court for the second quarter. As I walk on the court, my hearing starts to distort again. I hear the muffled sounds from around the court. I see the crowd staring at me, the new player. The whistle blows. The ball flies straight towards me. A scene from “The Matrix”? No. I swiftly snap out of my stuporous behaviour and catch the ball. With every bounce of the ball, my confidence and normality increases. I dribble to the edge of the D and a pick is set on my defender and I quickly move out of his reach. I stop and pull up to shoot a three-pointer. The ball is released from my hand at an almost slow motion pace. The arc of the ball seems to be accurate and the court seems to stop and stare at the ball. Swoosh. The ball goes through the hoop without touching the rim. Three points on the scoreboard. The team congratulate me on my shot as I we back to defend.
The game continues in our favour, and we end up winning 103-24, a great score.
I now begin to understand that all of the fear and anxiety I felt was only in my mind. I have to believe in my self and not be doubtful of my ability.
(Following week)
I arrive at the car park, late as I usually am. My friends are there already, organised, prepared, ready. I am also prepared, and I have brought my Mp3 player to help me get fired up for the game.
