The Season Begins
1437 Words
The first game of the college season arrived like a thunderstorm.
Alvin woke at 5 AM, his heart already pounding. He'd barely slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the court. The crowd. The defenders. The ball leaving his hands.
This is it, he thought. This is what I've been working for.
His phone buzzed.
Michael: You awake?
Alvin: Yeah.
Michael: Me too. Can't sleep.
Alvin: Same.
Michael: Breakfast in the dining hall. 6:30.
Alvin: I'll be there.
---
The dining hall was quiet at 6:30 AM.
A few players sat in corners, eating cereal, staring at their phones. The air was thick with nervous energy.
Michael was already there, picking at a plate of eggs. His knee was wrapped, but his face was determined.
"You look terrible," Alvin said.
"Feel terrible."
"Good. Means you're ready."
"I'm not ready. I'm terrified."
"Same thing."
Junk appeared from nowhere, a tray piled high with pancakes. He'd walked onto the team as a practice player — no scholarship, but a chance to prove himself.
"First game," Junk said. "You ready?"
"No," Alvin said.
"Good. Me neither."
---
Coach Bradley gathered the team in the locker room at 10 AM.
The room was quiet. Everyone was in their own head, replaying plays, running scenarios.
"Today is the first game of the season," Coach Bradley said. "We're playing State. They're good. They're physical. They're going to try to bully you."
The team nodded.
"But we're better. We're faster. We're smarter. We've been working for this since August."
He looked at Alvin.
"Chen, you're starting point guard. You control the pace. You make the decisions."
Alvin's heart pounded. "Yes, Coach."
"Vance, you're starting shooting guard. You're the primary scorer. Don't force it. Let the game come to you."
Michael cracked his knuckles. "I will."
"Everyone else, do your jobs. Trust each other. And win."
---
The gym was packed at 7 PM.
State's fans had traveled well. They wore red and gold and chanted like their lives depended on it.
Alvin stood in the tunnel, listening to the noise. His hands were sweating. His heart was pounding.
Michael stood next to him. "You ready?"
"No."
"Good. Me neither."
They walked onto the court.
---
State won the tip.
Their center — a six-ten giant named Porter — caught the ball on the block, backed down Northwood's center, and scored.
2-0.
The crowd roared.
Northwood ball.
Alvin brought it up. State's point guard — a senior named Hayes — guarded him aggressively. Hands active. Feet quick.
Alvin looked for Michael. Michael was cutting, but Hayes had positioned himself perfectly.
They've studied our film. Same as everyone.
Alvin passed to Leo — a normal bounce pass. Leo caught it, turned, and shot.
Clang.
Porter rebounded. Fast break. Layup.
4-0.
Hayes jogged back on defense. "That's your game, Chen? Bounce passes to a forward who can't shoot?"
Alvin said nothing.
---
The first quarter was a nightmare.
State scored at will. Their players were bigger, stronger, more experienced. Alvin couldn't find rhythm. His passes were slow. His shots were short.
By the end of the quarter, State led 24-12.
Alvin sat on the bench, a towel over his head, trying to breathe.
Michael sat next to him. "You're playing scared."
"I'm playing careful."
"There's a difference."
"What's the difference?"
"Careful is making the right play. Scared is not trusting yourself."
Alvin pulled the towel off. "What do you want me to do?"
"Remember who you are. You're not a freshman who doesn't belong. You're the guy who invented the redirect pass. The guy who led Westbrook to a championship. The guy who beat Devin Cross."
Alvin looked at his hands. They were shaking.
"Trust them," Michael said.
---
Second quarter. Northwood ball.
Alvin brought it up. Hayes guarded him, still calm, still confident.
Remember who you are.
Alvin drove left. Hayes stayed with him. Alvin pulled up for a jumper.
The ball left his hand.
Swish.
24-14.
Hayes stared at Alvin. "You shot?"
"You left me open," Alvin said.
"I didn't leave you open."
"Then your hand isn't as long as you think."
---
The rest of the second quarter was different.
Alvin stopped trying to pass through Hayes. He started shooting. He drove. He pulled up. He even hit a three-pointer.
State's defense collapsed. They didn't know how to guard him.
By halftime, Northwood had cut the lead to six. 42-36.
Alvin had twelve points. Four assists. One turnover.
Michael had ten points. Leo had six rebounds.
Coach Bradley stood in front of the team. "Better. But we're not done. State is going to come out strong. They're going to try to push the lead back."
"So what do we do?" Leo asked.
"We push back. We run. We make them tired."
---
The third quarter was a war.
Hayes scored. Alvin answered. State pressed. Northwood broke it.
With four minutes left in the third, Hayes drove hard to the basket. Michael stepped in front of him. They collided. Michael's knee buckled — but he stayed up.
The referee called a block. Hayes's third foul.
Hayes stared at Michael. "You're tougher than you look."
"I'm tougher than you."
---
The fourth quarter.
Northwood trailed 58-52. Eight minutes left.
Hayes was tired. His shoulders were slumped. His feet were slow.
He's played the whole game, Alvin thought. He's running on empty.
Alvin pushed the pace. He threw redirect after redirect — left, right, blind — and the ball moved faster than State's exhausted defense.
With two minutes left, Northwood tied the game. 64-64.
Hayes called for the ball at the top of the key. The clock ticked down. 30 seconds. 20. 15.
He didn't pass. He didn't drive. He just looked at Alvin.
"You're better than I thought," Hayes said.
"I had to be."
"You're still not better than me."
Hayes rose for a three-pointer.
Alvin jumped — not to block it, just to contest.
The ball hung in the air. Too high. Too flat.
Clang.
Leo rebounded. Northwood ball. 8 seconds left.
Coach Bradley called timeout.
---
"Last play," Coach Bradley said. "Chen, you're inbounding. Vance, you're the target. Everyone else, clear out."
Alvin looked at Michael. Michael looked back.
"Blind set," Michael said.
"Everyone's expecting it," Alvin said.
"Then don't close your eyes."
---
The inbound.
State pressed. Hayes guarded Michael, denying him the ball. Leo was trapped. The other players were covered.
Alvin had the ball on the baseline. Five seconds. Four. Three.
He saw something. Not a player. A space. A gap between Hayes and the other defender.
He threw a left-handed redirect — not to Michael, but to the empty space.
The ball slapped off his palm and sailed into the gap. Hayes turned, confused. Michael cut into the space, picked up the ball on the bounce, and rose for a layup.
The buzzer sounded.
The ball hit the backboard. Bounced off the rim.
Rolled around the cylinder.
Fell through.
Northwood won. 66-64.
---
The gym exploded.
Michael ran to Alvin, grabbed him, held him.
"We did it," Michael shouted. "WE DID IT."
"We did something," Alvin said. "We're not done."
"First win. College."
"First of many."
Hayes walked over. His face was calm, but his eyes were wet.
"Good game, Chen," Hayes said.
"Good game, Hayes."
"You're not just a gimmick."
"I never was."
Hayes nodded. Walked away.
---
The locker room was loud.
Leo was singing. Marcus was arguing with Elijah. Michael was replaying his highlights on his phone.
Coach Bradley stood in front of the team.
"First win. It wasn't pretty. But it was a win."
The team cheered.
"We have a long season ahead. Tough opponents. Hard games. But tonight, you showed me something."
"What?" Leo asked.
"Guts. You didn't quit. You didn't give up. You kept fighting."
Alvin's phone buzzed in his bag.
He didn't check it. He didn't need to.
He knew who it was.
Observer (Maya): First win. Congratulations.
Alvin: Thank you.
Observer: How do you feel?
Alvin: Tired. Happy. Scared.
Observer: Good. That means you're alive.
Alvin: What now?
Observer: Now you rest. Tomorrow, you work. The season is long.
Alvin: I know.
Observer: Good. Now go celebrate.
---
That night, Alvin sat in his dorm room, staring at the ceiling.
His phone buzzed.
Michael: Can't sleep.
Alvin: Me neither.
Michael: Thinking about the game?
Alvin: Yeah.
Michael: Me too.
Alvin: We won.
Michael: We won.
Alvin: Same time tomorrow?
Michael: Practice. 6 AM. Don't be late.
Alvin: I won't.
He put the phone down. He closed his eyes.
One win, he thought. One of many.
He smiled in the dark.
- Writer
