Sweating. Panting. Worried for the challenges that are about to come. He jumps up
into the huddle and then stumbles his way through a tunnel of familiars slowly. . .
slowly breaking down. 24 hours earlier.
“Biggest game of our life tomorrow guys! We have to give maximum effor. . . know
you all can do. . .” Kenny drifted off to wondering why at this specific time, the
descending sky line made it appear as if the gym had been swallowed by a tsunami
like wave. Kenny had ADD. He tried appearing as if he was listening to coach ramble
on about our “Most important game yet,” speech. He scanned the faces of his allies;
Devoted, devoted, picking his nose, not caring, devoted. He wondered where he fell
upon these examinations.
Kenny drove home recklessly, not for any reason in particular, just because he felt
invincible. Upon arriving at home, his mother met him at the door with a list of chores
that Kenny had no intention of completing. He reclined in his garage sale bought,
raunchy o’l recliner that for some reason he loved so much. Deep down it reminded
him of his lost childhood days, watching his father relax in his recliner after a long day
of work. Sleep fell on Kenny so fast that he couldn’t even react. He was asleep.
Waking up to the beckoning noise of his God-for-Saking alarm clock, Kenny rolled
over in bed. After much reasoning with himself, he decided on five more minutes and
closed his eyes. When he opened them again it was 8:45 and he didn’t even care.
Kenny got up and went through his routine with zero amount of hustle. Ha, that word.
“Hustle”. A word that was yelled at him repeatedly but yet still meant nothing to him.
Arriving at school, completely missing 1st period and late to 2nd, he dropped his
bags on a table and went back to sleep. Being awakened by the bell, he drug himself
through the halls to his next class and through the rest of the school day. Kenny had to
return to this prison which common people referred to as school earlier than intended
for the big game that night. On the surface he was cool and collected, but really
freaked out on the inside.
He went home, ate, and drove right back up to the school to warm up. All of his
teammates were already up there, Kenny was the last to arrive. All he did was shoot
lifelessly, dreading the moment for when that starting whistle is blown. 10 minutes till
“1. 2. 3... Cardinals!” The team chanted as the began to run off into the crowded
gym. Kenny stumbled his way through a crowd of familiars, every other smacking his
back saying some sort of encouragement. The starting five seated themselves upon
the bench. The rest of the team formed a run way to bump chests or do a handshake
when there name was called. One by one Kenny’s teammates ran off, and when it was
time for Kenny, everything went black. . .