Gemotions

He’d known, of course, that the selection process was brutal. Yet, the sting of not making the varsity basketball team was a physical blow, a sudden hollowness in his gut. Now, every dribble of the ball, every squeak of the sneakers on the polished floor, was a painful reminder of what he had failed to achieve. He sat in the stands and watched the team practice.

“Good luck, guys,” he’d said to them, his voice tight.

As he walked off the court he kicked a ball hard against the wall. He caught it, and threw it again. And again. Eventually, a friend came over and walked next to him. "Tough break, man," he said.

He forced a smile. Then, under the cover of darkness, he began practicing alone, day and night, transforming the court into his personal training ground. He didn't want the team to be a part of his world anymore, but he had to prove them wrong.