Monday, 21 September 2015

Tic by Cypress

On the sideline scouting for teammates that are open.
Fourth quarter and there is only seven seconds left on the clock,
I’m stuck in place.

Mad gorillas surrounding me calling for the ball.
Audience is cheering, going seriously crazy

I’ve stopped breathing,
staring into an imaginary distance.
Thinking about last play,
should I cut through the d?
or let my team do the job for me?
I am like an owl at night scavenging around my surroundings.
So much plays to use but only I think of one.
Time to do this.

Passing the ball to my teammate,
Quickly running into the court like a madman,
Cutting through to the back waiting for a pass,
I take a call,
3 seconds now left,
I get the ball and waste the clock a little,

In the air back down into slow motion again many thoughts in my head like,
“Will I miss, will I get it or do I look epic?”
The sight of victory is in my eyes as I release now its time to see the truth.

The ball takes lift off and makes its way towards the rim,

Everyone freezes.

Tic toc tic,

0.4 seconds on the clock, 0.3, 0.2, 0.1.


Crank, Plank, Shih.


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