Page 21 of His Starr Player

Yeah. Me and Najah got the whole locker room tuned into your tournament. Good luck in the semifinals. I know you’re going to do great.

Me:

Thank you. Finish the practice strong too. Give them bitches hell.

AVA:

I’ll do my best. See you later.

I hearted the message because I didn’t have time to fully type out a response because we were called back for the next round. We claimed our seats and greeted our opponents. Semifinals began. We were neck and neck for most of the game. At one point, my game lagged and caused me to mess up a play. My heart sank to my ass when the opponent stole the ball and dunked it on the other end.

“Man, fuck!” I slammed my fist on the table.

“Don’t let up, nigga,” Jayshawn encouraged.

“This isn’t the end,” Ronnie added.

“That’s my fuck up. I won’t let that shit happen again. Rotate!” I called out. Garrett and Ronnie switched positions.

“Cut,” Garrett instructed.

“Green!” I did my shot animation, and the green arch appeared as I shot the ball into the goal from the three-point line.

“Good shit,” Jayshawn shouted.

Once we’d gotten our momentum back, the game became more relaxed. We’d gotten a good lead on them leading into the third quarter and started having fun. We were tossing oops, emoting, and having a blast. The dudes across from us were fuming.

“Good game,” I announced when we’d won the round by ten points.

We remained seated because we would be playing the final game right after the next team set up.

“Aye, we got this. Treat it like any other game. Play with intention and keep the callouts coming. Let’s keep the positive vibes, calculated plays, and hunger for winning. We got this.” Ronnie uplifted us.

“We do.” I dapped him up before I wiped my palms on my pants and looked out at the crowd. I motioned for them to make some noise. The people in the venue cheered and clapped.

This was a beautiful experience. People came from far and near to watch a group of Black men play video games. Life was perfect.

“We’re at the final stretch, y’all. Cade’s Cove very own may be taking home the title of kings of the court against the reigning champions The Houston Hustlers.”

“You’re got damn right.” Kelvin agreed.

We laughed lightly as the match began. Energy was high in the room. My fingers moved with intention as we played our roles. Our scores were neck in neck. They’d match our two pointers with threes.

“Keep that nigga away from the ball, fuck!” I shouted into the mic. Kelvin’s man had scored three times on fast breaks which gave them a big lead.

“You have got to be kidding me. Where is the fucking defense, Kel?”

“Man, I’m fighting for my life. You come guard this nigga then.”

“Cool. Switch on three,” I urged.

Kelvin and I switched, and it seemed to be what we needed to get the lead back. There was forty seconds left in the fourth quarter. My heart beat steadily.

The title will be ours.

The money will be ours.

I continued to replay those ten words in my mind until the final buzzer sounded. My eyes widened when I saw the final score: seventy-three to sixty-eight. We did it. We’d won.

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