Don't Wanna be Like Mike

I wished I could tell you this is fiction, but this really happened during an afternoon in high school. Well, at least the last part did. Hey wait, I can’t spoil the ending already. Okay, here’s what happened.

The bell blared, signifying the end of class. After packing my bag, I bolted out of the classroom. The sun dazzled me while I dashed towards the basketball court. As I approached, I heard the sound of ball dribbling. Guess my friend had already arrived.

When I reached the court, I found him shooting at a hoop. For anonymity’s sake, let’s name him Robert.

Hold on, that’s his real name. Let’s call him Guy instead.

I paused beside my friend. “Hey, buddy.”

Guy put on his best gangster voice, “What’s going down, bro?”

“Not much. Well, last night I saw a clip where Jordan broke the rim during a dunk. It was nuts.”

“Yo, Michael Jordan is a beast.” Guy directed his gaze towards the ring. That red hoop looked within reach, yet we could never seize it. “Man, I wanna be like Mike!”

“How about a reality check? You can’t dunk.” I shook my head. “You’re too short. You’re too skinny. You’re too slow. You’re too dumb. You’re too fat. You’re too – “

“Dude, will you shut up?” Guy raised his rude finger. “How can I be skinny and fat at the same time? Are you retarded?”

“My bad.”

Guy spotted a bench near the sideline. He dragged the seat onto the court. I grimaced as it screeched against the gravel. Several bypassing girls noticed Guy’s plan, so they stopped to watch.

Guy positioned the bench under the rim. “Just you wait.” With ball in hand, he retreated to the half way line. After performing some dorky looking stretches, he sprinted towards the basket. He almost tripped over his shoelaces, but managed to regain momentum. When he reached the free throw line, he leapt off the floor. The bench rumbled as he landed onto it. Guy sprung off the seat just before it collapsed.

With a girly scream, Guy soared towards the rim.

I gasped as Guy’s fingers gripped the ring. “You made it! Oh my God, don’t tell me you’re going to shatter the ring like Mike?”

A crack reverberated as he broke it!

Oh, not the basket. I mean he broke his arm.

Guy crashed onto the floor, clutching his elbow. “I don’t wanna be like Mike anymore.” The surrounding girls looked sympathetic, yet giggles escaped their lips.

From that day on, we decided to just be ourselves.