Grinding/Tryouts Again

*Sound Effects*

**Language**

'Thoughts'

"Dialogue"

*Swish*

*thump thump thump*

*Swish*

I spent the entire morning at the free throw line, finding solace in the rhythmic dance of shooting and dribbling. The basketball, an orchestra on the hardwood, and the satisfying swish through the net felt like therapeutic notes. The coach's words from years ago echoed in my mind as I continued putting up shots, determined to try out again as a senior, armed with considerable improvement and a fierce determination to dominate the court.

"Yo Javi!"

I turned to see my best friend, Isaiah.

"Hey, what's up?" I greeted him.

He eyed me curiously. "What are you doing at the park so early? School's about to start," he remarked.

I smirked. "Just putting up more shots. Can never shoot too many."

"True," he agreed.

We shared a laugh before heading to school. The early-morning tryouts awaited us before classes began. Upon arrival at the auditorium, it felt like freshman year all over again. Hoop enthusiasts lined up, flaunting their basketball shoes—some Jordans, some Kobe's. I laced up my regular tennis shoes; brand didn't matter much to me. I believed that the shoes didn't make the player.

"Everyone, line up!" A booming voice echoed through the gym, drawing everyone's attention. Coach Carter stood there in his standard gym attire, as hefty as ever. "I swear I haven't seen a single fit coach," I whispered to Isaiah.

"Right? You'd think blowing that whistle all day would do something," Isaiah chuckled.

"We're gonna start with layups. Form a line on either side. We're going full court," Coach Carter announced.

"We?" I whispered to Isaiah.

"He meant 'You're,'" Isaiah clarified.

As we formed lines, we executed layups. Some effortlessly scored with right-handed layups, but when it came to left-handed attempts, many struggled and some missed.

"Damn!" a tall kid exclaimed, pounding the ball before passing it to the next person.

When my turn came, I glided to the basket like a fish in water, executing a reverse left-handed layup that effortlessly kissed the glass before finding the net. I tossed the ball to the next person.

Across the court, I observed Isaiah going up for a left-handed layup, hitting the backboard with finesse. Isaiah, a 6'1 black kid, might not be NBA tall, but he towered over most. We first clashed on the park court years ago, his team against mine. Initially at odds, we earned mutual respect after intense pickup games. Now, if anyone dared to mess with me, I knew he had my back.

*WHOOOO*

Everyone heard the whistle and turned to the coach that was sitting down in his chair lazily. 

"Alright, we're gonna start a 5v5, we're gonna do half court because there are a lot of players and not too many rims. I will have Coach Will bring down the side baskets".

Quickly after the 5v5's started everyone was eager to start and prove themselves in order to make the team.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------A/N: The 5v5 game is about to begin, and I hope everyone is thoroughly enjoying the novel! Your comments, votes, and all forms of engagement are greatly appreciated. If you're enjoying the story, please share your thoughts so that I can keep the narrative going. My aim is to develop this story into a full-fledged journey, as NBA novels are a rarity, and I felt compelled to embark on this creative endeavor. Your support means a lot, and I'm excited to take you through the entire career!

Side Note: Javier is pronounced with an H in the beginning for those that may not know.