Chapter 13
The Ramblers played a handful of exposition games but today was the first official game of the season.
Preseason allowed us to get accustomed to playing together as a team and anticipating what our teammates would do.
I appreciated that our first game was in Vegas.
It was nice to have your city rooting for you.
As the lights dimmed, Colin Pratt leaned into me and said, “Don’t fuck up newbie.
” I didn’t respond, he was just trying to get into my head.
But the fact I was starting, and he would be sitting on the bench spoke volumes.
The announcer introduced the visiting team, the Portland Trail Blazers, first. I shook out my limbs and rolled my neck while he did.
During our warmup I spotted Danessa, my mother, and Anika in the crowd.
I’d offered to fly my mother out for the game, she always attended my first game of the season.
It was like my one superstition, well that and tapping on the locker room door three times before the start of every game.
What I didn’t expect was for my father to also be in attendance.
My mother kept that part a secret, probably because she knew I would’ve told her he wasn’t welcome.
Panning over to my father he had a drink in his hand, it probably wasn’t his first of the night, and unlike my mother who appeared excited my dad looked pissed off.
As if my mother dragged him to this game and he’d rather be anywhere but here.
If I were an unemployed custodian with a son playing professional ball I’d be beaming from ear to ear.
But the only time my father bragged about me was when he thought he could get something out of it.
The announcers’ tone enlivened, and the crowd started to stomp their feet. “And now the starting lineup for your LAS VEGAS RAMBELERSSSSS!” The instrumental version of Nipsey Hussle’s “Grinding All My Life” played loudly in the background.
“At power forward, standing six foot eight, with power, finesse, and the heart of a lion, from UCLA … number seven, CAMERON ‘THE TANK’ brADLEY!!” Bradley pounded his chest, flexing to the crowd as lights swirled around him.
“At the shooting forward position, a man who can do it all, the Swiss Army knife of this squad, standing six foot two, from the University of Kentucky, number eleven, TYLER WILLIAMS!!” Williams threw up three fingers indicating his triple-threat versatility as the crowd roared.
And at center, the six-foot four beast in the paint, reigning from the heart of New Orleans, the man who owns the rim … number twenty-three, DARRRIIIIUS JOHNSON!!” The crowd erupted as the spotlight flashed over Darius, who pumped his fist toward the fans in the stands.
At the shooting guard, a sharpshooter from deep, a defensive nightmare for opponents… Standing six foot five from Duke University, number twenty-seven, DEION ‘DECK’ MCCABE!!” The arena literally shook as Deion coolly strolled to center court, nodding to his teammates.
“At point guard, standing six foot five, hailing from Northeast Philly, a man with speed and court vision like no other, he’s the playmaker, the spark plug … number four ALDRIDGE ‘THE TOWER’ MOSLEY!!” Making my way to center court I raised both arms, hyping the crowd, ready for tip-off.
“Your Las Vegas Ramblers, ladies and gentlemen! Make some noise.”
The next forty-eight minutes of gameplay were a blur.
Playing basketball was kind of an out-of-body experience.
You know at the end of the day when you get in your car and then next thing you know you’re in your driveway; it was sort of like that.
My body relied on muscle memory to make the three-pointers.
Even though I couldn’t see him, I knew McCabe was nearby, so I passed the ball to a fixed point behind me and Deion drove to the hole.
I ran to the other end of the court, setting up a screen that denied the Trail Blazers’ center from making his basket.
At the free throw line I locked in, sinking both baskets to widen our lead.
When I stole the ball, I drove to the basket with nothing but red shirts behind me.
With a spin, I threw down a double-handed dunk.
Celebrating with a roaring scream. McCabe and Dante dapped me up before Coach Justus called me to the bench.
With five minutes left in the game, we’d secured the win and I was allowed to rest. I passed by Colin who was coming into the game to relieve me.
“Don’t fuck up our lead,” I said under my breath. Petty? Yes, but it felt good.
After the game and press interviews, I met up with my parents in the members only lounge.
You either had to be a player, staff, or extremely rich to get in.
When my mother spotted me, she shot up. “There’s my baby.
” She pulled me into an embrace and we swayed side to side.
There was just something about a mother’s hug that fixed what ailed you.
I looked around hoping no one overheard. “Mom please, not in mixed company.”
“Well, I haven’t seen you in months and I’m just so happy for you’re doing well. That was a heck of a game.”
“Thank you.”
“Your father and I are so proud. Aren’t we Lamonte?” She looked to my father. This was normal, my mother speaking for the both of them and my father grunting in agreement.
“Hmm.” My father was already looking for the waitress to refill his glass.
Taking a seat I said, “I’m glad you could make it out. I wish you’d told me you both were coming.”
“You’re so busy, I didn’t want to be a bother. Your assistant, Nori, helped me get everything squared away.”
“Did you tell Nori Dad was joining?”
“No, we paid for his ticket on our own. Didn’t want to spoil the surprise.” More like didn’t want to ask for permission and risk me saying no.
My phone dinged with an incoming message.
Nessa: Great game. Thank you for inviting me.
Aldridge: Where are you?
Nessa: Stuck in traffic.
Aldridge: I was hoping to see you tonight and thank you personally for coming.
Nessa: Your folks are here, we can connect some other time.
Aldridge: The thought of seeing you after the game was kind of the highlight of my day. Don’t get me wrong my mom is great but she ain’t you.
Nessa: …
Aldridge: Turn around.
Nessa: …
“What does a man have to do to get a fucking drink?” My dad yelled.
Looking up from my phone, I casually said, “I think you’ve had enough.”
My father’s eyes flashed with anger. If I wasn’t a grown man who now towered over him, he’d be ready to slap the piss out of me.
Lamonte Mosley loved hitting defenseless women and children.
I think that shit actually brought him joy.
Making others feel small and afraid. “Did I ask for your opinion? You’re the child.
Don’t tell me shit. I do what the fuck I want.
Mind your fucking place.” My dad’s voice was elevated and drawing attention. “Where the fuck is my drink!”
“I’ll get you another one. It’s fine.” I headed to the bar.
This is why he wasn’t invited. He was always an embarrassment.
My dad assumed I was trying to show him up when I offered to pay for a meal or cover a flight.
Fake offended but when he needed a little spending money or help paying a bill, he had no shame about forcing my mother to call and ask.
My mom would say it was for her to get her nails done or that Tootie, my sister, needed new shoes because she was growing like a weed.
My phone dinged again. It was Danessa and instantly my mood was lifted.
Nessa: Where do you want to meet?
Aldridge: Are you hungry?
Nessa: I’m always hungry.
Aldridge: Meet me in thirty minutes at the Bites and Brews Plaza.
Nessa: Okay.
My mom came up behind me leaning her head on my arm. “He’s just tired.”
“No Mom, he’s drunk.”
“Your father likes to celebrate.” She would always defend him so there was no use fighting it. “I saw Danessa, she’s still as pretty as ever.”
“That she is.”
“Are you two—”
“No, just friends.”
“I like the thought of you making friends out here. She’s a nice girl. Good influence.”
“Yep.”
My mother shifted so we were facing each other. “Are you okay?”
“I’m good.”
“Are you okay? I pointed to the bruise on her arm.
“You know me … I have two left feet. It’s good laying eyes on you. Let’s not wait so long between our next visit.”
I drove my folks back to their hotel. Nori had the foresight to book my mom into a hotel other than the W.
After dropping them off, my father stumbled with each step and my mother insisted she didn’t need any help, I hightailed it over to the plaza which was an open air food truck court with seating and music.
Danessa was sitting on a bench near the entrance so she saw me coming from the parking lot. “Born and bred in Northeast Philly, give it up for number four, Aldridge Mosley,” Danessa imitated the Ramblers announcer from tonight’s game.
“Please, please hold your applause.” I approached with a side hug.
“You were amazing tonight. On fire. Unstoppable.”
“Thanks,” I whispered because she was drawing the attention of lookie loos.
“Are you embarrassed? Am I embarrassing you?”
“No, I just want a laid-back night. No autographs, no pictures, no platitudes.”
“I’m down for a night of just food and good conversation.”
“I’m going to get a burrito the size of both of my hands.”
“That’s a very big burrito.”
“What about you?”
“Actually, a burrito the size of your hand sounds really appetizing. It will help sop up all the beer sloshing around in my stomach.”
“Oh so you and Anika had a time tonight.”
“The tickets you gave us came with free beer and wine. Which your dad also appreciated.”
I rolled my eyes. “Let’s order.” After getting our food, we headed to a small vacant area with two Adirondack chairs separated by a table with a fire pit in the middle.
Danessa took one bite of her burrito and broke out into her happy dance. “This was a good choice.”