I wrote this bit of writing after i finished my 4.30 am training session... I wanted to post this on the Lakers day off but didn't end up having the time... If you like it and would like me to post more just ask... I generally write after my training sessions, sort of become a habit in the last 2 years... Anyway, don't usually name my pieces, but for the sake of keeping it organized, this one is called Morning J'
Alarm clock beeping insanely, my eyes slit open, god damn it's too early, there's no light, why am i getting up at this time? Alarm keeps going off, the damn clock is on my desk, purposely placed beyond my reach from bed so that it forces me to get up, dumb ass. If i don't turn it off, i might put a hole through the wall. I reach my arm out to the light switch like im brushing off an annoying fly or slapping a mosquito. Click. Light bashes my eyes with a baseball bat containing a nail protrusion, I cover my face with my hand causing a psychadelic motion of circles to replay in my memory. Open my eyes and wait for the darkness to fade, for the focus to be born. Instantly infront of me, i see my poster of Steve Francis doing a reverse layup under the out-stretched arms of Divac. Right next to it poster after poster of Jordan. Love is. Poster of the 2k12 cover with Magic right in the corner. And on my ceiling right above my bed, countless magazine pages of Kobe dunking and fading, all ripped and stuck to my ceiling, staring down at me, reminding me. Alarm clock keeps yelling at me. To hell with it, I'm up.
It's 4.15 am and the walk to the courts is lonely. Trees aren't green, they're dark, reminding me of their company as they dance with the cold breeze. I don't dare bounce the ball and wake up the poor people who go to work, so instead i shoot the ball up and make it land right back on my fingers, backwards spin, index finger last to touch, no pinkie action, only right hand shoots. Today I'm focusing on that J'.
Get to the courts and there is a dog sniffing around, always see the ol' fella. Throw my bag on the side line. Fling that ball into the air. Time for the warm up. Dribble jog around the court, bouncing that ball, looking up. Get down do some dynamic stretching. Tear. Oh yeah that hit the spot. Roll the ball gently to my bag, time for the chest bumps. Knees up to my chest up to half court, then sprint the other half. Already breaking a sweat, but my body feels fresh, i can feel the blood pumping now. Just a little bit more and im ready.
Free throws. 1, 2, 3, miss. Fuck. 1 suicide. 1,2,5,10,13, miss. suicide. 1,2,10,20,25,31, miss. Not till i hit 50 in a row. suicide. 1,2,15,30,40,45,48,49,50. Keep going, keep going. 73. Time for that banana. Eat it quick because i have no time to waste, my mid-range is begging for some love. Square the shoulders, steady the feet shoulder length apart, eyes on the rim, rythm to the release, ball above my eyes, graceful stroke, index finger release, backwards spin, nothing but net, land in the same spot, hold that release. Let's make it harder. Insert Kevin Durant. Look you dead in the eyes. Catch me if you can, pump fake, hard dribble to the right, step back further right, square that stance, release, hits the back of the rim, miss. Tougher. Insert Kevin Durant and Lebron James. I'm not scared of you, jab step to the left, hard dribble to the right, cross it over to the left, hard dribble left, step back, square that fucking stance, release, nothing but net. After 500 J's, i had used my jumper to take on every single NBA player and match up i could think of. I'm not scared of you, I'm coming for you.
Exhausted, i leaned on the post, sweat dripping down, the cold metal was making my forehead throb, but the comfort was ever so welcome. The sun was up and strong by now, must be at least 8.00 am. Started stretching, cooling down, 500 J's left for the evening. It never ends with me. It never ends with basketball. I tried to escape this obsession. Tried to get a girl, tried to settle down, do well in my studies, but there is a fire in me. Deep, always burning, always alight and everyday that went by where i ignored this fire, it burned away more of the distractions i was trying to cover my obsession with and now I'm back here.
Lonely, noone in sight, even that dog got bored of my J's, no gurantee im going to make it anywhere, everything is stacked against me. I wouldn't have it any other way.