Swish

by Nike Klemmer 

The music was pounding in my ears as I changed into my basketball cloths. I slipped into my high ankle shoes but left the tying for later, like every time I had a game. Swedish House Mafias Greyhound was making my blood pump faster as I tied up my hair. It was early, and as I left the changing rooms I saw there wasn't anyone in the bleachers yet. I began walking the lengths of the court stretching my calves. The song switched and techno beat was blasting through my headphones. After a lap around the orange field, I chose a ball from the rack and let it roll around in my hands as I made my way to the three-point line. Bouncing the ball a couple of times, enjoying the feeling of the bumpy materials against my fingers, I crouch down, aimed and shot. Swish. I took out my headphones and packed away my iPod, forcing myself to focus solely on the game ahead. The empty gym echoes the sound of the ball thumping the gym floor. Dribbling through my legs I go up the free-shot line, aim and shoot. Swish. I smile to myself. Today was going to be a good game for me. I started stretching and when the first visitors started arriving I put the ball back on the rack. Sitting down against the cool, brick gym wall I tied up my shoelaces. The stuffing of the high tops molding my ankle and holding it tightly in place. The two different colored laces remind me of my first basketball game. My shoe lace had ripped and I had to borrow one from a friend. That day I had worn  neon orange and neon pink shoelaces. I shot my first three-pointer and my team won the game that day, and since then wearing two same colored shoelaces was out of question for me.