Page 64 of False Start

"What?" I gasp, completely shocked.

Damon has been playing basketball overseas for ten years now. We've all hated not seeing him for months at a time and hoped he'd find a team back home, even if it meant the G League after he went undrafted in the NBA. But none of us ever wantedthis.

"Yeah, bro," he says, his tone sad. "Why do you think I got back so close to Adam's wedding? I'm usually back by June, and that's if we make the playoffs."

I shrug.

"I just assumed it was some basketball-related stuff. Maybe a special tournament or something?"

Damon laughs bitterly.

"Nah. It was somemoving my whole life back to the USstuff. I cleaned out my locker, packed up my apartment, and flew home for the last time. I am now officially retired from professional basketball."

At thirty-three, I'm sure he already knew his days playing ball were numbered. But to give it your all for so long, away from your family and friends, and then just fly home alone? Damon drops onto the futon next to me and it groans under his solid weight.

"I'm sorry, bro," I offer, though it hardly seems sufficient. "Why didn't you tell anybody? You know we would've made it a bigger deal. Mom would've baked you a cake or something."

That gets a real laugh out of him.

"I'm sure she would have," he says through a wry smile. "I didn't want to distract from baby bro's big day. And now Henry's engaged?" He lifts a shoulder, and I still see echoes of that gangly teenager practicing free throws in the street. All he ever talked about was basketball.

"I didn't want to bring the mood down when things are going so well for everyone else."

I put my hand on his shoulder and turn to him.

"Well, that stops now, bro. First, you gotta break the news to everyone."

He's already shaking his head vigorously.

"No way, man. That's so embarrassing."

"No, it's not," I insist, squeezing his shoulder tighter. "The end of a long, impressive career as a professional ball player is something tocelebrate, notbe ashamed of."

"But I got released!" he almost whines. "And I never even played in the NBA."

My expression turns soft.

"I know you always wanted that. You worked your ass off, and they didn't call. But you know what? Germany did. And then Spain. Ball let you see amazing places, all while doing what you love."

Some of us had made the trip to see him in the play-offs a couple times. He was a real-life celebrity over there, complete with groupies and even his own stadium chant.

He cracks a small smile.

"You think so?"

"Iknowso, Damon. I know you're the middle child, but you don't really think we're going to overlook this milestone, do you? We never have, and we're certainly not going to start now."

His eyes get glassy before he blinks the moisture away. I pull him in for an awkward hug, and we both clear our throats.

"And what about you?" he asks, changing the subject.

I lift an eyebrow.

"Whataboutme?"

Damon levels me with a pointed look.

"You think I'm the only one who's been moping around here lately?"

---