Whirling, he sped towards the hoop, his muscled arms ready to shoot. Abruptly, the shrill shriek of the whistle split the air, halting him in mid-jump. The team leader, Pack, shouted, his normally pale face ruddy, “Jason, you are the power forward, you shouldn’t catch the ball now!” Jason made a derisive noise, scorning what Pack said. He pounded the ball against the ground, and suddenly, he lobbed the ball viciously towards Pack, putting almost all of his brute strength behind that pass. The ball connected with Pack's face, whose skin split open like a ripe berry.
"What right do you have to dictate to me?" Jason snarled, an ugly sneer contorting his handsome face. “I really cannot understand why you can be the leader. You are such a terrible player!” He stormed out of the court.
Just as the team players were staring at Jason's retreating form, at a loss, their coach stopped Jason. It was time to build the bonding of the team. He produced a strip of black cloth and covered Jason’s eyes with it, asking him to shoot. The sudden darkness made Jason giddy. He lost his bearings, standing still like a statue. With his sight obscured by the cloth, Jason was scarcely better off than a blind man. Star player that he was, Jason still failed to realize his coach had tossed a ball at him until it hit him hard in the chest with a solid thump.
“Jason, pick it up!" his coach yelled