“I’m done!”

Dejectedly, Daniel skulked home in the rain that Friday afternoon. Not making his school’s winter basketball team was the biggest disappointment in his life. The cool drizzle felt good on his face, though, washing away his tears. The stench of his workout matched the depth of his despair. Sweat covered every ounce of his lean 5’10” ectomorph frame, soaking all the way through his shirt and compression underwear. He had been defeated by a 29.5-inch orange ball and his own inexperience. Ready to give up basketball completely, he no longer cared that the rain was ruining what had been his most prized possession, a pair of blue Nike Hyperdunks.

Why would he need these shoes anyway? They were symbols of a year of wasted hard work: waking up at four o’clock five times a week, running though a full point guard workout, challenging everyone at the gym who would pay attention to him to a game of one-on-one. And when he felt tired, like he wanted to quit, like his dying legs would give out from the exhaustion and build-up of lactic acid, he went back to the gym and lifted weights for an hour. Then, after school, more basketball with the varsity team, late nights of homework, and repeating the same routine day in and day out. But what was the point? He had nothing to show for that year of body-numbing exercise and preparation. Daniel ripped off his ruined Nikes. He launched them into a nearby Dumpster and trudged the rest of the way home in socks.

After Coach cut him last year, he was sure history wouldn’t repeat itself. But Coach cut him again. And he knew that because he didn’t make junior varsity as a sophomore, he most likely wouldn’t make the team next year either. So, for all his fortitude, he was ready now to be done. He stopped his bawling.

After a long walk home, he arrived at the cramped apartment in Rockville Town Center that he shared with his mother and older sister. He trudged up the four flights of stairs. The elevator had been out of service for seven weeks. His legs were sore after that intense try-out, so he started his normal muscle decompression routine. Half-way through foam rolling and stretching, he realized that it was pointless—he had only ever stretched so that he would become better at basketball. Normally, he would do some sort of running, such as hills or wind sprints, even when his legs were sore.

BRRRRRRING!! BRRRRRRRRING!!

The ringing phone interrupted his pouting. His mom.

“Hey Daniel, I’m so sorry to hear about your tryout. Just keep working hard and you’ll eventually reach your goals! You know what will take your mind off of it? Dinner at Grandpa’s. I’ll pick you up at seven.” Without waiting for an answer, she hung up.
Looking at his watch, Daniel saw that he had thirty minutes before his mom would arrive, leaving just enough time for a long shower to wind down before what he was sure would be another boring dinner. Grandpa, always dominated the table “discussions” with his endless stories. Daniel hated listening to the old war veteran and his war stories. Hopping out of the shower, he rocketed into his cluttered room and dug through the clothes heap on the floor. Right as he pulled the least wrinkled shirt over his head, his mother arrived, and in a flash they were at Grandpa’s.

Grandpa, short and stocky, was 72 years old, and with a beard that probably had not been trimmed since the 1980s. He and Daniel could have competed for the world record of the most cluttered living area. Thankfully, Grandpa was a good cook.

Over steaming asparagus and savory scallops, he told them a story, one he had definitely told them before. In the beginning of 11th grade, he dropped out of high school to support his family, earning minimum wage as a cashier. But, once his parents were financially stable enough that they no longer needed his help, he still needed to earn money to support his fishing trips and to buy a house. Studying business at Fairfax Community College’s night school, it took him ten years of scraping by to save enough to invest in a restaurant, but it was a scam and he wound up broke. Contemplating ending his life at that point, he decided that he couldn’t die without becoming successful. So, he got another job, and another, this time, working 80 hours a week as a cashier and a factory worker, and after two years was finally able to purchase a restaurant where he worked hard for 47 years, until recently retiring and moving into this condo with Grandma. This boring story, told so many times, finally caught Daniel’s attention.

The next day, Daniel trekked to the Dumpster where he left his shoes, and when he saw they weren’t there anymore, he used his little saved up cash from mowing lawns and other odd jobs to replace them. The next Monday, he woke up at four o’clock for his workout with renewed energy. He would definitely need to want it more than the other players if he were to have any shot of making the team the. After school, he went to the indoor court to practice with the new winter team.

*****

A year later, Daniel walked into the varsity tryouts with an even fiercer determination than he had the year before; he would make the team this time, or die trying.