Making him Proud
Roger,Get your ass up from bed! Get Ready for school. Ok Dad (yawn). As I woke up I had decide what to wear. Sweatpants or Jeans. I act like its a hard choice. Either way Bobby will call me names and get every-one to join in. Screw it! I don’t really care. I throw on my sweatpants. I hurry to the bus because if I miss it the West Philly kids will jump me and take my phone again. There is no time to comb my curly black hair or to put Vaseline on my freckled face.
I'm on the bus, no iPod because its been stolen. My mind begins to wonder and I just start thinking about basketball. Not that young pewee stuff either. I’m thinking about the Big leagues, the NBA. What if I were there one day. In the hall of fame with MJ (Michael Jordon). Yea that will be the day.I arrive to school a little early so I go to the gym to shoot some hoops. I wish my brother was here with me. He used to get here early with me to shoot around. I want to be just like him, a starting shooting guard.I want to carry on his legacy. My jump shot is the best feature in my game. Its 15minutes before class starts and Bobby comes in the gym, giving me funny looks. I don’t have a problem with this kid but apparently he has a problem with me. Do you want to play a game? He looks at me as if I was trash, as if I were no competition at all and walks away.
School has started and I buss out my classes for the day. After school I go to the coach of the school team. Can I try out. I’m not too good but my brother taught me a lot. He looks at me and says its kind of late to try out but if you really want it you can earn a spot. I’m overwhelmed with joy,I got a chance to be like my brother. What do I have to do. Play the team captain one on one! My heart sunk, Bobby! This kid torments my life and doesn’t acknowledge me as a person, how am I suppose to beat him. A little while later Bobby and I meet in the gym staring each other down.Its now or never. I go out and give it my all, but it wasn’t enough. I lost 16-14 in a close game. As I was packing my bags up to go home,Bobby and the Coach stopped me and shook my hand. Good Game, your better than you look Roger. We would like it if you would like to join the team. Yes, I know my brother would be proud of me, looking down from the heavens.
I'm on the bus, no iPod because its been stolen. My mind begins to wonder and I just start thinking about basketball. Not that young pewee stuff either. I’m thinking about the Big leagues, the NBA. What if I were there one day. In the hall of fame with MJ (Michael Jordon). Yea that will be the day.I arrive to school a little early so I go to the gym to shoot some hoops. I wish my brother was here with me. He used to get here early with me to shoot around. I want to be just like him, a starting shooting guard.I want to carry on his legacy. My jump shot is the best feature in my game. Its 15minutes before class starts and Bobby comes in the gym, giving me funny looks. I don’t have a problem with this kid but apparently he has a problem with me. Do you want to play a game? He looks at me as if I was trash, as if I were no competition at all and walks away.
School has started and I buss out my classes for the day. After school I go to the coach of the school team. Can I try out. I’m not too good but my brother taught me a lot. He looks at me and says its kind of late to try out but if you really want it you can earn a spot. I’m overwhelmed with joy,I got a chance to be like my brother. What do I have to do. Play the team captain one on one! My heart sunk, Bobby! This kid torments my life and doesn’t acknowledge me as a person, how am I suppose to beat him. A little while later Bobby and I meet in the gym staring each other down.Its now or never. I go out and give it my all, but it wasn’t enough. I lost 16-14 in a close game. As I was packing my bags up to go home,Bobby and the Coach stopped me and shook my hand. Good Game, your better than you look Roger. We would like it if you would like to join the team. Yes, I know my brother would be proud of me, looking down from the heavens.
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