Six Seconds to Legend

My body exhausted

My focus sheared down

to its razor thin edge

I look around the huddle

It's on my teammates faces too

No one is saying a word

not even our Coach

We all know the situation

we all know

what needs be done

Miracles don't happen

three minutes into the second quarter

on the road in the middle of December

They happen here... in the next six seconds

in the warmth of early June

The buzzer sounds

and we take to our battleground

Weary warriors of the hardwood

surveying the scene

for the final battle

I look across at my enemies

their faces weary as well

but they also carry a confidence

as they believe

they have us right where they want us

Their five best

free-throw shooters

stride confidently on the court

We're down by two

and they have the ball

In eight glorious battles

throughout this long campaign

we have faced these same foes

to nothing better than a draw

finally a victor to be crowned... here... now

Strategy dictates that we must foul

They make one

we still have life

They make them both

and this was all for naught

I look back up at the clock

just to be sure

No time-outs for either side

Our leaders from the bench

can do nothing now but watch

The referee pushes back the defender

to give the trigger man his space

gingerly hands him the ball

blows the whistle and begins his count of five

here we go...

It was clear from their staging

and my hours spent studying their ways

that the intended target

for the most important pass in this man's career

was to the man I was charged to defend

He slid by not one screen

but two

and the second was as a brick wall

setting me off balance

and springing him free to the top

Maybe it was all those stairs I ran

Maybe it was all those hours in the weight room

Maybe it was the urgent cheers of the thousands craving that miracle

Or maybe... just maybe...

It was just the fact that I don't like to lose

I reached my man in the same instant as the ball

his hands outstretched

mine slipping in between

the ball shot loose

and popped into the backcourt

I scooped it up in stride

Three...

Two dribbles to cover the distance

Two...

Pulling my momentum to a halt

Toes to the line

my feet set and shoulders squared

One...

I drew in my assassin's breath

and flung my dagger into the night

I don't know how many times

I had put that shot up before

alone in the backyard

alone in the gym

alone in my mind

But here, now

as my feet came back to the floor

I stood alone in front of millions

watching all of their hopes

sail gracefully through the air

Halfway there

the horn sounded

and like the clarion trumpet's call

Salvation and redemption

could now be guided by the will of but one hand

Twenty-Thousand gathered

and not one making a sound

many covered their eyes

as the tension

was more than they could bear

I could only hear my heartbeat

and a voice from deep within

"Practice makes perfect"

it said

and so for endless hours I did

I have never been one much for cheering

Cool and collected I preferred

but when that ball hit net

and no rim

It was my own voice that I heard

I flung my arms into the air

and ran to center court

With boundless joy I leapt

My teammates swarmed my side

Fans began to rush the floor, overcome with Boston pride

"It's all over!!!"

"It's all over!!!"

Johnny Most wailed to those that were not here

"Bird did it!!! Bird did it!!!"

"The Celtics are champions this year!!!"

The jubilation died down

quicker than I would have liked

The sun was setting

I had homework to do

and my other chores for the night

I walked over quietly

and pulled my ball from the puddle

that had gathered beneath my hoop

I didn't make that shot in the warmth of June

It was November twenty-first

I'm just a kid

alone in my driveway

a Legend in my own heart

but I just lived the best six seconds of my life

That is, at least... so far