by KristineScurry, Jun 7, 2008
A middle school age girl was good enough to get to play on a boys' basketball team.
A GIRL ON THE BOYS TEAM
“Ouch!” I cried when number 42 from the Stallion's team knocked me down. I hit the floor hard and scraped my knee. I rolled over onto my back and held my knee for a minute, the pain was intense but it wasn't bleeding. TWEEEEP, TWEEEP! I heard the whistle blow.
“Foul!” called the Ref, “Take the ball out, Griffins.”
“Girls shouldn't be on a boy's basketball team,” said number 42.
Dylan was trotting over to help me up; he heard what number 42 said to me. “Whatever! You're about to get beat by a girl.” said Dylan, “Don't listen to him he's just
jealous "cause you"re taller than him, Allison,” he said as he held out his hand for me. “Heck, you're taller than most of the kids in the eighth grade,” he said with a wide grin.
Our team has the ball again. Dylan is dribbling down the court, his face is red and his hair is soaking wet. He bounce passes the ball to me; I have to get it to our end of the court.
I started to run and dribble, my knee screaming in pain. I glanced up at the scoreboard the game is still tied 20 to 20 and only two minutes on the clock. I could hear the ball pounding on the wooden floor as I ran. My leg muscles are starting to burn, I have sweat dripping into my eyes; the emerald jersey is sticking to my back. I can hear the crowd cheering and clapping. I've made it to the three point line, the other team is all over me jumping and blocking me from a shot.
“Allison, over here!” calls Will. I see a slim opening and bounce pass to him, he is going for the free throw, but the other team swarms in fast and surrounds him.
“Head's up, Ally!” Will yells. I look up in time to see Will throw the ball straight at me. The ball sails through the air in slow motion. Still standing on the three point line, I am going to have to go for it. I never make three-point shots. Where is Dylan? He always makes three pointers. The other team is rushing toward me; I can hear the crowd chanting, “AL-LI-SON, AL-LI-SON!”
I am going to have to go for it. I take a deep breath, I jump high, my feet leave the floor I toss the ball as hard as I can. As my feet slammed the floor, my knee buckles and
I hit the floor again. I look at the clock. Two seconds left. The ball swooshes threw the net! The buzzer sounds. BUUUZZZZZZZZZZZ!!
“WE WON! WE WON!” The guys on my team yell.
“You did it, Allison,” Dylan said, “I was worried for a second, but you did it!”
“Are you crying?” Dylan asks.
“No!” I replied.
“Then why are your eyes wet?” asks Will.
“Because I am happy, duh,” I said.
“Sometimes you're such a girl,” said Dylan, “let's go get some pizza.”
All the guys on my team were laughing and slapping each other on the back. I could hear the Coach from the other team yelling at the boys.
“What is wrong with you? You all just got beat by a girl! A girl! Do you realize how embarrassing that is?” He was yelling. I saw the guys on that team, their heads were hung low, not happy and joking like my team was doing.
Will and Dylan are watching the other Coach yell at his team too.
“Man, that Coach is really letting them have it,” said Will.
“Glad he's not our Coach,” said Dylan.
“I want to say good game to the other team,” I said.
“Why?” asks Will, “You got knocked down pretty hard, and that really stinks.” “Besides, I really don't think they will appreciate the girl that beat them coming over.” “I know, but I need to show good sportsmanship,” I said “their coach seems to be kind of tuff on them.”
“Fine, but don't take all day, I am so ready for a slice of pizza,” said Dylan.
“If we all go and shake hands, it would go a lot faster,” I said. The guys shrugged their shoulder and agreed to come with me.
Walking over to the other side of the court, where the Stallions were gathering up their gear, seemed to take a lifetime. Just then number 42 looked up at me with his blue eyes; I felt my breath catch in my throat. I decided I wanted to shake hands with him first; even though I was feeling kind of shaky for some unknown reason.
“Hey, umm, sorry I knocked you down,” he said with a half smile as I got closer to him.
“It's all right, I'm not hurt that bad,” I said.
“You really played a good game,” he said as he pushed his dark brown hair back from his forehead. “I guess your friend was right, I am a bit jealous of you,” he continued, “because you're better at basketball than any of the guys I know.”
“Thanks,” I said feeling my face burn. “I heard your Coach, he seems pretty mad.”
“Yeah, but his bark is usually worse than his bite,” he said.
“Well, I came over to say y'all played really good, it was not easy to beat you,” I said smiling.
We watched our teams laugh and congratulate each other on a good game.
“Well, I need to go, we are all going for pizza,” I held out my hand, “my name is Allison, by the way.”
“My name is Justin,” he said taking my hand in his. “I hope to meet you on the court again sometime.” All I could do was smile; I know my face is scarlet. I don't understand why I am feeling so silly talking to a boy.
“Allison, huh?” he said. “I like that name.”
“Um, thank you,” I said. Suddenly I feel all girly.
“Do you think I can call you sometime?” Justin asks.
I feel sweat dripping down my back, but I don't think it is from the game. My stomach feels funny. Is he asking me to go out with him? Maybe he just wants to be one of my buddies.
“Sure, I guess, I can give you my number,” I said.
“Cool,” he said.
After giving him my phone number I walk on rubbery legs back to my team mates. I wonder if I should tell the guys, I wonder if he will call. What will I say if he does call? I can't wait to get home and call my girl friends.
Query critique Tuesday: Just tell the story
8 hours ago