One day at a time, right?

To have the ability to master the opponent is a drug. One that cannot be lived without, at least not by me.

When I catch the ball and have you, here, defending me: it’s an ultimate challenge.
The secret is, that I know you’re the one at disadvantage. Like a magnet you’ll follow me wherever I go, in attempt to cut my path, make me reverse and stop my whole attack. But, my offense is unpredictable. Only waiting as I scout a weakness to expose.

You’re more than welcome to try and guess my move at the rim, though.

Left? I can go left.
I can go left so strongly that you might think I write with my left. Only I hesitate mid-way there, just enough to make you doubt how strongly to chase me left; meanwhile but all too soon, in your moment of self debate, you failed to realize that my initial hesitation was all a bluff. And now that you’ve stopped to think, you’ve given me what I want and I’m gone again.
But will I go left?

I can elevate. Right in your face as if to not even be bothered or concerned by your laughable attempt to defend me. There’s a chance you may elevate fast enough to block me. But my ignorant instinct to go up anyway, shows just my disregard that such a possibility exist.
In my eyes, you’re already too far. You made the consequential mistake of underestimating my preparation for this very moment. By believing, even for one second, that once I caught this ball my legs, feet, hands and nerves weren’t already set to take this shot, you’ve already lost. As you gasp in disbelief, it lends the ball just enough time to swoosh through the net, blissfully.
But, will this be your poison?

Or rather, what if I go right?
I could get some help from a screen, causing a much weaker defender to take on the responsibility.
Poor guy. The one with knees ready to buckle with wrong-guesses, like a car driving the wrong way on a one way. Training taught him to defend a man much bigger, slower and stiffer than me. He’s not ready for what’s about to happen to him. The mockery I’ll make of him or the yoyo I’ll use him like to entertain my curiosity for how silly a man can look.
It’s a slippery slope, once I put my head down and start my way downhill. And that’s what I’ll do, with a full head of steam; knowing that I can’t be stopped. Soon after I’m switching directions and before his long leg could plant to shift with me, I’m already spinning back to my original spot. Now that no one’s in front of me, it’s a clear path to the rim. What do you know … Same result.

Decisions, decisions.

Either way the rain falls, it’s bound to reach the ground.



Above is what I tend to think during only one possession of a basketball game. Imagine the entire game. I thrive most when I step on the court stressed, because I’m even more focused on being distracted; On being a junky.

I think the addiction comes from the ability to be the only thought occupying the mind and from the relaxation that comes with finally, having only one, singular task in mind: conquer.

What better remedy for the instability of life, and the uncontrollable fortunes that come with it, than the power that is granted by basketball? I know none.



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