My dad?

Part 1:
"Hey pass right here." I yelled across the hardwood basketball court. The buzzer was beating down to one. The crowed was silent. All I heard was my heart beating I knew I had to do this. The score was 81 to 79. We were losing to Bush high school. I looked up at the clock 10 seconds left. It’s not the easiest shot in the world but I know I could do it. I jab with my right foot. The defenders shaky. He doesn’t know what to do; he’s as scared as I am. 7 seconds left. I’m not scared, ill make the shot and I know I will. I got this. I’m ranked 1st in the state for a reason. 4 seconds. I pump up, the defender jumped! Perfect chance to shoot. I pull up...."SWISH" I made it. I drop down to the ground, still not believing what I had just done. I hear some screaming and a whistle but I'm still consumed with hat just happened. I hear the crowd yelling but all of a sudden I hear silence, and the ref yells "No Basket!" What? I get up angry. There was an off ball foul; our freshman center Paul rice pushed someone on the ground before I made the shot. What?! I scream angrily at the ref. We lost. I’m fucking mad. Words can’t even explain how disgusted I am. Nothing can make this night worse. We lost our first game of the season to our division rivals. Well still make the playoffs but who cares. I wanted to head in perfect. I sat in the locker for an hour. While I was heading outside there were people patting me on the back trying to make me feel better, but I was still depressed. I waited at the bus stop to catch a ride home. Some guy in his 40s stood next to me. He kept looking at me. Honestly I was getting ready just in case he were to try and jump me. He finally turned to me and said; "your Kobe right?" I replied with a simple nod to with the head. He looked at me and put his hand out for me to shake it. I stared at it not knowing what to do, and he sensed that I was uncomfortable so he put it down. I asked him who he was. He replied in a monotone voice "Kobe I don’t know what you have heard about me, but I am your father." "My father?" I replied in anger and uncertainty. He can’t be my father my mother had told me my father had died when I was born. "I was just released out of prison. I was doing 17 years for attempted murder." he spoke with the same tone every time. I was consumed with all these ideas, that I had no idea what to do. I saw the resemblance but chose not to believe what I saw. He reached out to hug me. Not knowing what to do, I swung. Full force punch to the face, knocked him right down onto the ground. He was hurt emotionally more than I hurt him physically. Not knowing what to do I run.

Part 2:
I sat in an empty room. Waiting for my mother to come home. The second she walked in I asked he the question that had been on my mind all night. "Is my father or dead, or was he just in prison?" Not knowing what to do she started crying. She cried because she found out that I had finally figured out the truth. Not knowing what to do she opened up a wine bottle and poured herself a cup. When ever she was uncertain about something she would drink. I hated it. We stood up until about 2 in the morning just talking about the truth. She explained everything to me and I don’t think I was really ready to hear any of it. When I heard it all I don’t think I was ready. I still didn’t want to believe it. Over the next few weeks I kept thinking about it but, I didn’t see my convict father again. Our team was progressing throughout the high school playoffs and we were doing great. We ended up going to the championship. We play bush high school, again. The same team that ruined our perfect season. Only god knew how much I wanted to win that game. The night before the game I went to the park just to practice my jumpshot. While shooting around a bit, I heard that same monotone voice. "Play me kid, show me what you got." There he was coming out of nowhere again. "Fine." I threw the ball at his chest pretty hard. He threw it back even harder. I started out softly, but went real fast to my right. Layed it up with ease. "I gave you that one" He said while walking back to the line. I then went again dribbled up and pulled back, "swish". "Your pretty good" he told me with a smile on his face. If I’m gonna play I better practice all my moves. I dribbled down about 7 feet from the basket. I back him down, when I was about 3 feet away from the basket I turned of the post and shot with my right hand. "Bom" His hand slapped against the ball. He blocked my shot. I still got my rebound. I attempted it again. "Bom" he blocked me again. "Fuck" I yelled in anger. "Your games great you just need to work on your post moves, I can help you if you allow me." He offered. "What do I need you for, I didn’t need you for the first 17 years of my life, and I really don’t need you now." I know I said it very meanly, but he was still a stranger, and a convict to me. "Listen man, I’m not asking you to call me dad. I’m not asking you for anything. I’m offering you knowledge, and trying to help you out. I don’t want to take over your life, and be your parent, because I have made my mistakes, I know I’m not an angel, I just want to get to know you a little. You are my son, and you are honestly all I have, all I ask is for a little respect just as you’d respect any other person. Now you wanna' learn the best way to post up?" When I heard this it truly went to my heart, I understood him now. Why was I such an ass, he never was asking me for something, he was only offering stuff for me to gain. "Teach me" I said while passing him the ball. He posted up on me and explained that before I take that shot its a good idea to jab the opposite way I’m choosing to shoot, to give me some more space to make the shot, then turn around and make the shot the other way. He did on me over and over all-night. With practice I almost mastered it, and felt comfortable now using these new moves he taught me. When leaving to get on the bus I gave him a hug, and under my breath said "thanks.....dad" He heard me but didn’t acknowledge it because he knew I still was uncomfortable, he just smiled. I got home and slept, anticipating the game tomorrow.

Part 3:
I went through the same daily routine, I went to school and all that. After school I chilled in the gym until the game. In the locker room everyone was hyped up ready to play, I unlike myself sat there, and thought. I thought about what this game meant to me, and I thought about my dad. When encountered with this idea of him being my dad I was so resistant, but now I understand. I was such an ass. I accept him now. For the game coming up I want to play for him. I hope he'll be there, but anyway I dedicate it to him. In the shoot around before the game I practiced what he was teaching me last night. I was comfortable with it. I kept looking around for him but he wasn’t there. Right before tip-off I looked around but he still wasn’t there. Within the first minute of the game I heard he doors swing open. I knew it was him before I even looked. I saw it was him and all of a sudden felt a surge of energy. "Give me the ball" I screamed. I got it and ran hard to the basket and dunked it down as hard as I could. The crowd went nuts, I was screaming at the top of my lungs. While walking to the other side of the court I pointed at my father and smiled, he pointed back just as happy as I was. Then I knew I was ready to bring it all out. In the end the game came down to the same situation. "Give me the ball" I called out. There were 10 seconds left. Score was 91 to 90. We were losing by one. I went down about 5 feet from the basket. I thought of the post moves I learned, and instinctively backed down my defender. 8 seconds left. I jabbed right with my right foot. The defender shifted right, quickly I went left and layed it up with 1 second left on the clock. I went nuts with the whole crowd. The building was shaking. I pointed at my dad as happy as I ever had been. We had won the game. Immediately after receiving my trophy I went to my dad, and hugged him. I gave him my trophy and told him to hold on to it for me. We had won the championship. We were the best team. I knew it was because of him. If not for him I don’t think I would have won that game. I accept him in my life now. He is my dad I knew it all along even though I had problems accepting it. I thank him for coming into my life.