Big Time Baller: Diary of an Inside Drive

I guess all those school nights spent out on the court paid off. Now there’s no more cracked asphalt under my kicks, and there are no more garbage-strewn lots. I’ll miss my old stomping grounds and my boys, but they’ll understand. And if they miss me that much, they can turn on their TV. Hold all my calls and feed the dog; I’ll be back at the end of the season.

I’ve spent my life on the courts, and put in some good years at college, but now it’s time for me to take my game to the next level. At first I wasn’t sure it was for real when the scout approached me outside the gym. I had just played my usual sweet game—sinking shot after shot from outside the arc. I’m a big guy, but I’ve got a good touch. I like to put it up from way outside and just dare the other guy to guard me. Anyway, this guy in a suit was going on about the pros, and I was about ready to pop him, just for making me crazy. But then he turned out to be the real deal. He gave me his card and sent a car over to my dorm the next night to talk business.

He had been watching my stats for some time now. There they were, plain as day on the XSN Sports Web site. I’d climbed the ranks from a “nobody” to a hot commodity in a matter of weeks, and now all of a sudden I was in-demand.

I put on my best clothes because I’ve always been taught that if you want respect, you’ve got to show respect. I wasn’t going to blow my one shot at the big time. Right on time, a black stretch pulled up out front. A few ladies hanging out on the front steps of the building whistled at me, and I strolled over to the car. I laughed. “This is so stupid,” I thought. There I was, pretending to be some hotshot getting into a limo, living some sort of dream. It was a dream all right, but it was about to become reality.

The car took off, and I met my new agent at a nice restaurant in the ‘burbs, just outside of the city. It was a ritzy little area—quiet with tree-lined streets—not like the dumps I was used to. I got out of the car and was the center of attention. A man showed me through the front door and escorted me to a quiet table in the corner where the agent was sitting. He offered me a drink, and we talked for a while. A few well-dressed ladies joined us for our meal, and they came along later for some dancing at a club. Before I knew it, the contracts were drawn up, and I was an official player in the biggest game in town: NBA Inside Drive

Practice
It’s a dream, and a nightmare, to be playing alongside modern legends. On the one hand, I finally get to play on the same courts as the pros. I used to watch these guys on TV. On the other hand, I was the new guy, about to get my butt run all over the court. And I did. The first few practices, I choked. I missed shots and rebounds time and time again. I got knocked around and put in my place. I wasn’t the big man anymore; I was just another guy on the bench. It was time to quit whining and start winning.

The First Game
My first game was at the Air Canada Arena. We led the game from the start, but the other team’s defense was in full force. I started on the bench, but I wasn’t going to let them take my first game. When I got called in for the third quarter, it was time to shine.

I strapped on my goggles and took the court by storm, scoring 2 three-pointers from the right side. My defensive game was a little weaker, and a few balls got past me. The announcers thought it was funny to point that out: With me being 7 feet 10 inches, I should have been a brick wall. I admit, sometimes I was flopping around out there, but there will be time to work on that.

When the final buzzer went off, we won by six points: 88-82. Not bad for my first time in the big time. Mom left a message on my cell phone. She was crying tears of joy for her boy who finally made it. I may have gotten this far, but there’s much further to go. The season has just started, and there are still plenty of guys above me on the XSN Sports charts. Time for me to show them who's boss.

By Jim W. Gettys