Nike Team Narrative

My team and I had always been deemed by the title given to us from the very beginning. Our opportunities were cut short and we were portrayed as something lesser. This label supposedly defined who we were as individuals and collectively as a basketball team. The “National Team” was our name and continuously we were compared to the supposedly better “Nike Team”. Myself and my team did not let this name represent who we truly were as individuals and basketball players. Infused with determination, passion, and even anger, we strived to defy our title and outwork every single team we faced. Once our rubber soles hit and squeaked against the polished hardwood floor, we were on a mission to prove everyone wrong. The “Nike Team” was always handed opportunities on a silver platter, while we had to fight like hungry dogs to earn ours. We had minimal college coaches come to watch our games, while the Nike Teams’ court was filled with big time coaches from all across the nation. As I looked across the enormous fieldhouse, I saw the coaches lined up with their school names etched to their jackets. From UCLA to Syracuse, these coaches were on the look-out for their next recruit. What infuriated us most is that we knew we deserved that opportunity just as much as the other team did.
We were going into the biggest tournament showcase of the summer.
When I had laid my eyes on the tournament schedule pinned on the bracket-filled board, I came across who we played next in the championship, and it was the infamous Nike team. The moment we all had found out, you could see the fire and desire burning in our eyes. We craved this victory as if it were a drug. As we awaited our two o’clock game on the main court, the anticipation and excitement set in. We went through our normal rituals, lacing up our shoes, nervous toe tapping, stretching, and formulating our game plan. When the buzzer sounded of, ringing in my ears, I knew it was
time. Myself and four of my teammates eagerly took the floor and positioned ourselves strategically around the center circle, finding a girl that best fits you to guard. As the ball was tipped off of the fingers of our lanky, long-legged 6’3’ center, I was able to claim possession of the rubber treasure. I meticulously scanned the floor to see what my offensive options were, as I did every possession as a point guard. We scored the first two points of the game, but we knew the real challenge was playing defense against this team of breed offensive creatures. With bent knees and splayed arms, we out-defended this team continuously throughout the game. We were snatching rebounds out of air, with arms and fingers stretched to their limits. Our quick guards were anticipating passes and stealing the ball with ease. Back and forth, both teams battled like warriors. For every point we scored, they were able to reciprocate. As I looked into the crowd at halftime, with sweat running into my eyes, I saw those big time college coaches lined up watching our game. That’s when I looked to my team and we knew we had an objective to complete and a statement to make. We took the floor with heavy legs, but graceful shoulders. My team and I had a confidence that no other team possessed and we knew we could claim this win. The battle continued during the 20-minute half and we were down by one with 17 seconds left in the game. My coach quickly wiped the white board with the palm of his hand and drew up a play that would secure our victory. We broke out of our huddle for our final possession. I inbounded the ball and got it back from my teammate. We passed to each other with careful hands making sure not to cause a turnover. With two seconds left in the game, I had called for the ball, caught and shot it with a quick release, hoping it would go in. Unfortunately, I miss the shot, but the girl who had been guarding me the entire game went up as I did and I was fouled. I was on the free throw line and had a chance to tie or win this game.
With all eyes on me, I had ice running through my veins. I made the first one, “thank God”, I thought to myself. As the referee in the stripped shirt passed me the game winning shot, I could feel the blood pumping from my head to my toes. I let the ball finesse off my fingers and watched as it fell into the net ever so softly. I felt as though this moment happened in slow motion. I turned to my team with proud and excited eyes. We all jumped into each other’s arms and celebrated our triumph as we screamed and squealed. This game alone set a precedent for my team for the rest of the season. We finally made a name for ourselves and proved so many doubters wrong. No longer were we known as the underdogs.