Six seconds are left on the clock.
You’re down by one.
The crowd is cheering,
As the game moves swiftly.
Your point guard calls out the offensive play.
You make your v-cut, and receive the pass.
You instantly drive to the hoop and jump into
The air for the winning lay-up.
But suddenly, the game comes to a quick stop,
As you thump onto the court floor.
You’re okay and you know what’s coming next.
The pressure builds up, but you won’t let it
Get the best of you.
The referee blows his whistle, and hollers out,
“Push on the shot! Foul on number 27! Two shots!”
You set yourself up on the foul line,
Your home away from home.
You spin the glossy ball gently in your palms.
Dribble once, twice, three times.
You take a deep breath, concentrate on the hoop, and
Extend your elbow as you release the ball.
The “swish!” of the ball sliding through the net
Is music to your ears.
You’ve tied the game.
Happiness rushes through your body,
Like the chilly wind
Rustling the autumn leaves.
You say to yourself,
“Okay, just like the last time. I’ve already
showed that I can defeat the pressure, and
I’m prepared to do it again.”
You set yourself up on the foul line again for the next shot,
As you pant and breathe deeply.
Your stomach’s twisting and turning;
The feeling of butterflies flapping their
Wings inside your stomach.
The crowd is watching silently,
Their suspenseful eyes
Staring and waiting to see what your
Next move will be.
Yo spin the glossy ball gently in your palms again,
Bribble once, twice, three times.
As you hold the ball in your hands,
You feel the blood running through your veins,
And you take a few deep breaths,
While concentrating on the basket.
With the extension of your elbow, and
A flick of your wrist,
The ball floats angelically towards the rim…
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