“My body went cold. I couldn’t believe what’d just happened.”

It was my sophomore year at William Penn High School. I had just transferred from the small town of Neptune, NJ. No, I did not want to move but I had to for the better. Transferring to a new school was tough and I know I should’ve been focused on my grades. Instead, basketball was all I could think of. Everything on the teacher’s board looked like basketball plays. Everything on the lunch menu read “basketball with a side of basketball”. Even the morning announcements told us to stand for the pledge of basketball. As you probably know by now, I love basketball.

I’ve been playing my whole life. From recreational ball, to middle school ball, to AAU ball, to high school ball, I’ve played. So now that I’m in a new school, I have to let them know who the best is. From then to the time of tryouts, that someone was me. After two and a half months of waiting for the season to start, It finally was starting to approach. I barely even talked to anyone because they were competitors in my eyes. A week before tryouts, they announced that a sign-up list would be posted on the walls throughout the school. As soon as that ear-piercing bell rang, I was first at the list.

Written in blue sharpie ink, “BASIR M” in all caps, was the first name on the list. I wrote extra big to alert all the other scrubs who the best baller was.  I put the blue marker back on its Velcro attachment and went to lunch. 20 minutes later I came back to the list, the first two pages were filled. How dare these losers try to battle me for a spot on the team? While everyone was getting ready for the season, I was at home watching karate movies. I did not know how much that would’ve affected me.

It was the first day of tryouts and I felt a weird energy throughout the school. I had worn my blue and silver Nike shorts under my black sweatpants so there was no time to waste while trying to get dressed. My first class of the day was biology, the most boring of them all. My foot constantly tapped off the carpeted floor. I couldn’t stop tapping my pen off of the desk. Man I couldn’t wait until two-thirty struck. The clock felt as if it were moving in slow motion. 90 minutes of biology went in one ear and out the other. Why can’t school be over so that I can claim my territory. Why can’t school be over so I can let William Penn know who the new kid is! It was the biggest school in the state, so no one really noticed me. But I was not worried. Once this season kicked off, my named will be cheered throughout the entire school.

Finally two-thirty struck. I walked out of class and stepped into the war-zone. Most people call it the gymnasium. About 60 boys were crowded outside of the gym’s entrance waiting to hear their name called so that they can get changed. From popular guys who knew they were already going to make it, to the 2 foot 5 freshman player, we were all here shooting at the same target. Only the best would survive, and I knew I was going to be in that selection. “Basir,” coach called out. I responded in a calming tone. I got the conformation to get changed in the locker. The locker room reeked of arm pits and old sweat socks. The heat was intense and I wasn’t talking about the temperature. I strapped my neon green Nikes like a soldiers putting his boots on. I stood up, looked in the mirror, stared at myself for 10 seconds, and finally said “you got this, no worries”.

I walked onto the squeaky clean hardwood and took my seat across the base line. Boys of different ages, heights, nationalities, races, were all pumped. I had never been cut from a team before, so my arrogance started to take over. I wasn’t first in the running, I wasn’t really involved with the other boys, and I never spoke to the coach. The first day of tryouts was 100% strength and conditioning. No balls were in sight. I got home that night and crashed into bed, into a deep sleep.

The next day of tryout I could barely feel my legs. Expecting to show the coaches what I can do with the rock, again, there was 100% running. I started to think about all the workouts I should’ve done over the summer to get prepared. I failed in doing that. I thought I wouldn’t need it. Obviously, that way of thinking failed. Those two hours of tryouts were the worst days of my life. It got to a point when my body was running off fumes. I could barely even see with all the sweat in my eyes. During the defense drills, I could barely even bend down. Meanwhile, the three coaches was noticing all of my actions, praising all of the other hard workers. I got home that night and once again fell into a deep sleep.

The final day of tryouts was rough. The coaches all saw how bad at sucked at the running and they started to lose interest. They finally rolled the bright orange balls out, now was my time to prove what I can do. We did simple crossovers up and down the court. This was second nature to me, I could do it in my sleep. I quickly glanced over at the coaches to see if they were noticing my skills, but sadly they weren’t. At the end of tryouts we scrimmaged. They slip the court in half and made little groups of teams. I was the first to play. At tip-off I received the ball and quickly scored the first basket. No one was getting around me on defense. No one could guard me on offense. I was unstoppable. I felt like Jordan at the height of his career. The coach watching was stroking his beard with a keen look on his face. I knew I had a chance.

Tryouts was over. The head coach called everyone into a huddle. He read off the list of boys who made the team. My heart was pounding. My hands were shaking. My sweating increased. My popularity depended on this moment. The main thing I was focused on the moment I stepped foot into this new school was depending on it. Man, it felt like Muhammad Ali was using my heart as a boxing bag. I was surprised no one heard how fast my heart was racing. Only 15 people was allowed on the team and it was nearly 100 kids in the gym. He got to the 15th name and my name was not called yet. No, this can’t happen. I never got cut in my life! How can they do this to me! I closed my eyes and said a quick prayer. My heart was louder than the boys celebrating in the locker room. The coach opened his lips. “JACOB S.”

My body went cold. I couldn’t believe what’d just happed.  This was my reality check.

As a message to all athletes out there, never feel you are too good. There is always someone out there trying harder, if not more than you are. (PS, I transferred to a new school shortly after and worked my butt off to make it on varsity and jv. Boy I cannot wait until we play William Penn.) But again, if you learn anything from reading this, work hard and stay humble.