alley oop

When the whistle blows, the game

begins. It’s off to the races. Running.

Guarding. Shifting. Sliding. Adjusting.

Eyes up. Looking ahead. Searching

for the open man. Hands up. Heart

racing. Breathing heavy. Sweating.

Getting low. Jumping high. Weaving

and cutting. Screening and rolling.

Blocking out. Rebounding. Fouling.

Free throws and elbows. Creating

space. Face to face. No time to waste.

Time running out. End of the quarter.

Rotating in the zone. One team is away.

The other is home. Teammates cheering

from the sidelines. Locking arms.

Supporting. Lead changes. Pump fakes.

Traveling. Camping in the key. Pleading

your case after the whistle. Catching

fire like a missile. Caught in the middle.

Change of plans from zone to man.

Calling plays. Checking in. Assisting.

Fade aways. Baselines. Warm-ups.

Wins and losses. Injuries and pain

for the love of the game. On a fast break,

we move the ball. Two passes later,

our eyes lock. I crossover and toss

the ball in the air. You catch it

above the rim and throw it down

before the buzzer sounds.

Time stops and we celebrate our win.

Winning is sweeter with our friends.

We became people people in the end.