Chapter 10 #2
“Don’t worry. Kevin knows where to draw the line. Besides, I think you’re full of crap,” Dave shouted over the noise of the spray.
“What? What are you talking about?” Brian yelled back.
“Roxanne Monet is the reason you were late today and you’re too fucking embarrassed to admit it.” Dave stopped shouting as they stepped out of the showers, grabbing their towels.
“Embarrassed? What the hell—I’ll admit it.
She stayed the night and I couldn’t handle early practice.
I’m not embarrassed. I’m fucking disgusted.
I’ve never done it before. I’ve always known when and where to draw the line and now I’m losing it.
” Brian rigorously toweled himself off, taking care to dry every last drop on his chest, wondering what the hell was wrong with him.
He worried that if he stopped mopping up with the towel he’d discover that he was shaking, he was so scared.
“Must be some woman.”
“No. It’s not her. She’s only a symptom of the problem.
With Lindy in the hospital and her mother gone, I don’t know.
It makes it hard to keep pushing. I’ve been restless for a while anyway, ever since we won the championship last June.
How many championships and MVPs am I going to go after?
” He stopped and looked at his friend, letting everything sink.
The words had tumbled out of his mouth of their own volition. Dave frowned.
“I don’t know. I’ll let you know after I get my first MVP award. If you keep this up they’ll have to find someone else to give it to anyway.”
“You know what I mean. I feel like I’m losing my edge.”
“No. I don’t know what it feels like to fall from the top. I’ve never been there. But one thing’s for sure—it ain’t a hell of a picnic to watch.” Dave plunked down on the bench.
Brian knew his friend understood. Now that he’d voiced the fear that had been eating at the back of his mind, he felt no better. He felt worse because he saw in his friend’s face that it was real. It was happening and he felt powerless to stop it. The desire to win was leaving him.
He could almost picture his father rolling in his grave and he shuddered.
The excitement and thrill of his life was fading away and he had nothing to replace it with because it was his whole life—everything.
His father had taught him well to shut out the distractions in his efforts to keep Brian straight and off the streets.
He’d been headed down the wrong path, the path his father had watched his own brother taking with alcohol, drugs, gambling—and women.
At a young age, Brian was literally yanked from the grips of the Queens ghetto gangs.
At eleven years old Brian was taught a harsh lesson in reality when he went with his father to the morgue to identify his uncle’s body.
From that day on, his father took control and Brian became a willing and very able student.
His father’s obsession to make sure Brian had a better life was translated into basketball.
Pouring all their combined energies into the sport had bolstered Brian’s evident talent.
By the time Brian was a high school senior, he’d become as obsessed with basketball as his father had been with him.
He didn’t want to give it up. He didn’t want to let go of his life’s obsession that he’d worked so hard for and dedicated so much of himself to.
“I feel helpless to keep myself from falling. I don’t know what I can do.” Brian looked away and grabbed his shorts.
“There’s nothing you can do about Lindy. She’s your daughter whether you like it or not.”
Brian snapped his head up to look at his friend. The last thing he needed is Dave McCall to start playing conscience. His friend was undaunted.
“But I know what I’d do for starters. I’d stay away from Roxanne Monet if I were you. She may only be a so-called symptom of your restlessness, but she’s a mighty tempting dish and there’s nothing good going to come of a relationship with her. No sense looking for trouble.” Dave got up and dressed.
“She’s trouble all right. I used to be able to avoid trouble so easily. I’d just say to myself ‘Brian, don’t go near that woman’ and I wouldn’t. And it was no big deal. This time I didn’t even bother warning myself. I just plunged right in, consequences be damned.”
“What you need is a good scare to get your heart to start pumping again. I just hope it doesn’t cost the team too much in the standings,” Dave said. He added a smile.
Brian yanked his sweater over his head and picked up his gym bag. “Speaking of food—let’s have lunch. I’m buying,” Brian said.
Dave grabbed his bag and grinned. “I’m in. Even if we weren’t talking about food—unless you mean the dishy Roxanne. I will say—if you have to go down, buddy, at least you’re going with a beauty and having fun along the way.” He slapped Brian’s back.
“Yes, I did rather enjoy myself after the game last night. About as much as I enjoyed playing the game. Can’t say that I recall that happening too often.” Brian looked at his friend, who shook his head in disbelief.
“I don’t know why we’re worried. You still have a long way to fall before you get back to earth.” Brian sighed to himself, partly with relief and partly with discomfort.
Kevin was out in the parking lot, entering something on the screen of his electronic tablet while he talked with the coach.
Brian waved to him and he steered Dave in the direction of the pair.
Dave looked at Brian with raised brows. Brian reached in his back pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He handed it to Kevin.
“Here’s that number you wanted. Take care of yourself now.”