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Heading To The Post-Game Interview

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~~~(POV: Ulysses Kennedy)~~~

~~~(Date: October 22nd, 2026)~~~

~~~(Location: Locker Room, Madison Square Garden, New York)~~~

~~~(Time: 6:03 PM)~~~

"That's what I'm talking about, gentlemen!! You hung in there and kept fighting until the end! We proved that even when Ulysses is on the bench, we can hang onto the game!"

Tom is giving a post-game speech as we're standing around the locker room. Pretty soon, post-game interviews are going to start. I'm not a fan of the media or interacting with the media. But it's my job to talk to them.

Coach says a few more final words and makes his way out of the locker room. I stay in my chair and stare into my closet. These last two games have been brutal for us, and they've been at home. It's a good thing we've got two days off.

But something important is coming up for me. For the entire team, actually. Our first road game. We're heading to Milwaukee to face the Bucks. Giannis is arguably the best player in the league right now. And I'll be going toe to toe with him.

I stand up from my seat and make my way out of the locker room. As I'm walking down the hall, I see Ellie waiting with a beaming smile on her face. A woman with her own child is next to her.

"Hey! How'd you like that game?"

I can't help being a little excited to talk with Ellie right after the game. I wish Hannah were here, but she's busy with her Gymnastics at NYU.

"You were spectacular!! I can't believe you made that last shot at the end of the game! I've never seen a more difficult situation!!"

She's embellishing, of course. The Knicks fans tonight are heading home with something to be proud of. They've got a good team and a young roster. There isn't anything to put them down. But I won't say any of this out loud.

No sense in jinxing it for real. My attention turns to the woman next to Ellie and her son. The boy is looking at me in wonder. I can guess what they're here for.

I get down on one knee to where I'm almost at eye level with the kid.

"I take it you're a fan of mine?"

I don't have a problem with fans. They're one of the few things I like about being a basketball player. That's a very cynical thing to say, and I don't really mean it. But there are some days when I wish I didn't have to be famous.

"This is Eliza and her son, George. They were sitting next to me during the game. Eliza asked if it was alright to get your game shoes."

My eyes lift from the kid, and I stand back up, reaching my full height. Without saying a word, I lift my right foot and undo my laces. Taking off the shoe. I'm quick to get the other off as well.

There are a couple of reporters down the hall, and they're watching me.

"Do either of you have a marker or pen?"

Eliza is quick to pull out a sharpie from her purse. Handing it to me. I sign the shoes and hand them to the little guy.

"Hang onto those tight, George. They could pay for your college one day."

I ruffle the kid's hair and make my way down the hall toward the interview room. Without any shoes on. I'm in some sweatpants and a hoodie. Comfortable to wear for after a game. The room quickly fills up as I sit down, and everyone finds a seat.

There are people who don't get the luxury of sitting down.

"Alright, folks. We can start the questions 30 seconds from now. They're still getting ready in the studio."

The Knicks press secretary makes sure the media is following the rules. As I look around the room, everyone is on the edge of their seats, waiting to ask questions.

I pick up the Gatorade in front of me and take a couple of swigs.

"Okay, Ulysses..."

The press secretary makes her way over to me and whispers in my ear.

"There are probably going to be a lot of questions about officiating tonight. Answer them at your own risk, but don't say anything that can complicate a change."

I get it.

No sense in giving the Refs more reasons to give me ridiculous fouls. I'm hoping the NBA will talk with them soon.

Word count: 794

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