11. The Worst Luck of Basketball

It was nine months ago when everything changed. It happened on February 27th, the day the worst, yet also the best, thing happened to me. We were all on the bus headed to Ralston Valley High School in Highland Ranch, Colorado. It was silent; we were all thinking to ourselves. This game would determine if we would continue further into the playoffs or if it would be the very last high school basketball game that I ever played. I wasn't too worried because I knew that we could win. The only reason that Ralston Valley was in the playoffs was because they had a couple players that were 6 foot 11 inches tall. Although they were tall they lacked the skill set and the strength to go up against our team. 

I was our starting power forward and being the tallest one on our team, I was designated to guard the tall guys. I knew it would be easy; I remembered holding my own against Highland Ranch High School where they had a guy just as tall, but much better in terms of skill set and strength. I was the captain on our team, I was the leader. This time, with me playing defense against the tall guys, I knew we would pull out the W. I would not let my team down. 

We started off the game strong, making several baskets before Ralston Valley could score. We did well enough to the point where we were winning at the end of the first quarter. Before I know it, I've played for all ten minutes of the game when our coach finally calls a timeout. They had just scored several times without us making any points. They now had the lead and our coach was furious. We proceeded with the game and I decided to take the initiative. I caught the ball from our point guard and drove to the left, passing my defender. Just before I got to the basket, I got cut off by another defender. His foot hit mine, stopping my leg with an instantaneous jerk. My leg bent slightly sideways and I fell to the group in agony. I couldn't even move my leg!

I lay there for a moment as the defender tried to help lift me up, but I couldn't move. I was petrified by the pain. I could feel hundreds of knives stabbing into my knee from every angle. Our team's personal trainer came over, ran through some quick tests then helped me walk one legged to the training room. She examined my knee more and came to the conclusion that I tore my meniscus. I was devastated. That meant that I could not finish the game! I wouldn't be able to defend the twin towers! My team might lose because of my stupid injury! 

I could hear the buzzer go off, signifying the end of the half. I received a pair of crutches and walked to the locker room where my teammates were getting lectured once again. Through the course of the rest of the game, we slowly got beat more and more. By the end of the game, we lost by 16 points. I had the worst luck when it came to basketball. I let my team down, and would not forgive myself anytime in the near future. I knew it really wasn't my fault that my knee blew out, but I did know that that was the last high school basketball game that I would ever play. That was the worst luck I had ever in my life, because I would never have another chance to have worse luck than what had just happened. It was all over. Little did I know, it would turn out to be a blessing.