32. Jordan
CHAPTER 32
JORDAN
I t’s the fourth quarter of the Conference Tournament Championship. The cheers are deafening, with thousands of fans packing the arena. But there’s only one face I keep finding in the crowd. One voice I listen for.
Lucy is only a couple rows behind our bench. Every time I meet her eyes, my heart rate slows and my nerves ease back. She’s wearing my jersey again, and my heart swells seeing my last name on her back.
Man, I hope I can someday make that a reality. Although, she’s more famous than I am, so maybe I’ll take her name. In all sincerity, I don’t care about any of those details as long as she’s mine.
She catches me staring and beams. Even in the most pressure-filled moment, her happiness brings me peace.
I can’t help but crack a smile every time I hear one of her sassy remarks. And they are relentless, so I’ve been smiling a lot.
“Hey #10, you have a nice butt!”
“Jordan, I have a crush on you!!”
“Hey, Mitchell, will you eat some ice cream with me tonight? ”
The first time I told her about listening for my dad’s voice and feeling the weight of his negativity from the court, she asked if she could replace it. She told me to start listening for her instead. But because it’s Lucy, she knew that yelling out generic encouraging phrases wouldn’t actually ease the tension that causes me to play tight.
I needed to hear something slightly more unique.
So, she asked if she could yell dumb stuff, stuff she knew would make me smile and remind me that she’s there for me–win, lose, or draw. I’ve always been cutthroat and hyper-focused, but her strategy has worked wonders. It has allowed me to loosen up.
Lucy has brought me the peace I’ve been craving.
I give her a wink before diving back into the final minutes of the game. She blows me a kiss and I bite down a smile as we initiate the play Coach Daniels drew up during the timeout.
Thankfully, I rise to meet the moment. Hitting back-to-back threes in the final two minutes seals it for us. The final buzzer sounds, and we have officially pulled off the upset. I hug my teammates and coaches as the fans begin to storm the court.
I’m scanning the crowd for one person.
Spinning in circles, I’m worried she decided to wait out the crowd or something. I start wading through people who slap my back and offer congratulations, and then I feel someone jump onto my back.
She nuzzles into my neck, whispering in my ear, “I’m so proud of you.”
Then she drops to the floor and I turn to see a teary-eyed Lucy. I wipe her cheeks, and she looks at me like I’m Hercules. Wrapping my arms around her shoulders, I pull her into my chest. She squeezes me and then looks up into my eyes.
“Seriously. You were incredible. ”
I shake my head, feeling tears pricking the backs of my eyes. “You know I couldn’t have done this without you, right?”
She laughs. “That’s not even a little bit true.”
I lean toward her ear, ensuring that she doesn’t miss a word of what I’m about to say, despite the loud cheers around us. “Lucy, you’ve changed the very fiber of my life. I’m not the same guy I was even just six months ago, and that’s all because of you. I’ve never known happiness like this.”
Tears cascade down her cheeks once again, but thankfully they’re accompanied by the sweetest smile.
I’m not done.
“Lucy, I’ve been wanting to tell you this, but I…”
With possibly the worst possible timing in the history of humanity, my teammates arrive at this exact moment to carry me toward the awards stage. I glance back at Lucy, whose smile is now shrouded in a look of knowing.
We both know what I was about to say. I just really wish I could’ve actually said it.
Once at the stage, we are awarded the Conference Tournament Championship trophy, and Tyler and I make the All-Tournament team. We then take way too many pictures with the trophy and freshly cut net before being ushered to the media room.
It’s a whirlwind–one that I’ve dreamed about experiencing for years. All the hard work, long hours, blood, sweat, and tears are coming to fruition. But oddly enough, it’s not even the best part of my day.
She is.
As exciting as it all is, I just want to celebrate with Lucy.
So of course she’s the one on my mind as I sit down in front of the cameras with the championship net around my neck.
The first question comes from a young, eager-looking reporter in the front row .
“Jordan, you’ve had quite the journey to get to this point. Rumors, transferring, having to earn a spot on a new team–how does it feel to have a Cinderella ending?”
I run my hand over my face. It has been quite a grueling journey to get here. But as I think back over the last few months, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude.
“It feels like I found exactly where I was meant to be. The team, the coaches, the school, and…”
I crack a smile.
“...someone who absolutely changed my life. It’s hard to put it into words. I’m just really grateful.”
I see all the reporters hurriedly writing and smiling at the mention of Lucy. It’s not like it’s any big secret–I mean, we appeared on the Today show together, so I’m not going to dance around the fact that she should get the credit for changing my life.
Another reporter follows up.
“You’ve been playing the best basketball of your career these last couple months. What or who can you credit with how poised you’ve been?”
He’s baiting me to talk about Lucy. They really love this romance stuff–to be fair, I love it too. Well, mostly I just love her.
And I still haven’t gotten the chance to tell her.
I shake my head with a chuckle, making the decision to take the bait.
“Look, everything gets a whole lot simpler when your priorities are in line. I started playing differently when someone special to me reminded me that I’m more than a basketball player. It made basketball fun again. I played harder because I remembered how much I love this game. And that person helped me to fall in love with it again.”
Someone calls out from the back. “Did you fall in love with her ? ”
Everyone sits forward in their chairs, sticking their microphones out farther like they might miss my answer.
I just give a cheeky grin and raise my shoulders slightly. Then I lean into the mic as everyone holds their breath.
“Sorry, guys, gotta run. Thanks for a great year.”
With a wink, I stand up. They’re all laughing and cheering as I walk out of the room.
I hope Lucy is okay with everything I said. I mean, she still has to play tomorrow, and I don’t want to be a distraction. She helped me win the championship—I definitely don’t want to be the reason she loses hers.
I’m herded back to the locker room with the rest of the team, where we spray champagne and someone even breaks out cigars. This team really has become my family. Well, behind Lucy, of course.
As the celebration dies down and guys start packing up, I remember what’s waiting for me outside. There’s still one battle left to fight. I promised Lucy and myself that I would have this conversation. It’s years overdue, and I can’t put it off any longer.
As much as I might want to.
I know it’s the hurdle I have to jump if I want my future with Lucy to be everything I’ve dreamed. I couldn’t let myself run the risk of her getting hurt or manipulated or dragged down at all.
I also need to do this for myself. Being with Lucy has opened my eyes to all the things I could be. She really has helped me to see myself as more than a basketball player–I wasn’t lying to that reporter. Lucy’s faith in my capabilities beyond the court allowed me to see them too. I know what my personal future holds–and I’m probably heading to a different kind of court.
The idea of that new challenge invigorates me.
It’s time to zip up my smelly bag and do this .
I walk out with Tyler, mindlessly engaging in a discussion about where we might play our first-round game of the NCAA Tournament. Normally, I’d be all-in on this topic. Will we head to Florida or California, or maybe the Northeast?
But right now, my mouth is responding while my head tries to wrap around what I’m about to do and say. My parents are standing a few steps away from the rest of the families, looking out of place.
My mom has tears in her eyes the second she sees me. Her smile is so big, it makes her eyes crinkle and her hands reach out to me, awaiting a hug. I scoop her up, and she laughs.
“Well, that was certainly fun. You were incredible, honey. So wonderful, I almost couldn’t believe my little Jo-Jo was out there schooling all those future NBA players.”
I feel my cheeks getting a little red. Whenever she was able to come watch me, my mom was my biggest fan. Her irrational faith in me is still going strong.
My dad, on the other hand, is oddly quiet. He’s watching the other guys on the team hugging their families, talking and joking. He seems uncomfortable, like he doesn’t know what to say after something good. Critiquing me has been his primary form of communication after games for years.
What does he say when there isn’t much to critique?
We all stand there, awkwardly quiet. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, waiting for him to give any sort of commentary. Finally, he reaches out and gives me a firm handshake.
His words are forced. “You played pretty well. I’m glad to see this move worked out. There are some things we should discuss before the tournament and the NBA combine.”
Here's my opening.
I take one slow deep breath.
“Let’s head down this hallway for a minute.”
They exchange a look, my dad’s face showing confusion while my mom’s is only slightly surprised. They follow me down a back hallway, where I turn into the entryway for a supply closet.
I pivot to face them, my whole body tense as I gear up.
“I’m not doing the combine. After the tournament, I’m going to be walking away from basketball…”