“Nyl, Nyl he’s our man, if he can’t do it, nobody can,” the cheerleaders sang. “Go Bulldogs, go bulldogs, go…” they burst into another cheer.
I don’t know what it was but tonight on the court, I was colder than a bucket of ice. I had missed three jump shots, two layups, plus had a foul. If I didn’t turn things around the second half of the game, I already knew I would have to face the wrath of Coach Byrd. He was already mad at me so I was gonna be in for a good tongue-lashing from dude if I didn’t get it together. Coach was strict, and at times, I couldn’t stand him, but I had to admit he knew his basketball.
After halftime, I came back straight. I made up for my first-half poor performance. Sometimes you just have a slow start or a bad night. But I was glad that I was able to get it together and start hooping like I knew I could, even though we still lost, and only by two points. But Coach said a loss is a loss no matter how few points.
Maybe I could have done better, but it was hard trying to play a physical sport like basketball when I haven’t had a decent meal in God knows when. Anyway, the good thing is I ended up scoring sixteen points, getting a few rebounds, locked my man up, and made six assists.
“You keep that up, you’re going to go places,” Coach Byrd told me after the game when we were walking off the court. Yeah, that was good news to my ears. I wanted to go to college, play ball, and then get drafted by the NBA. I was determined to work my butt off to get there too, well until all this stuff happened with Pops.
“But I think I need to have to have a word with your parents about you having to bring your sister to practice. It’s just not going to work, son,” Coach explained and patted me on the back. “You can’t give it your all if you have to worry about what your little sister is doing while you practice. It’s impossible.”
I stopped and I don’t know what kind of look I gave Coach, but I’m sure I looked crazy or stupid, or something. “Coach, please, you can’t do that,” I practically begged. “I mean, I promise I won’t bring her again. I’ll talk to my Pops; and he’ll work something out. Plus, Coach it’s not like it happens all the time; and he did come and get her before we left for the game. Please, Coach.”
“Were your parents here tonight?” Coach asked and looked around the emptying gymnasium.
“No, uhhh, my Pops came and got my sister and then he…he had to…he had to go get her something to eat and…,” I kept stuttering because I couldn’t think of what to say. The truth was Pops couldn’t afford to spend ten dollars to come to my game. That money could buy us some sandwich meat or something to eat off the fast food menu.
“What about your mother?”
Here we go. I had to tell him. I didn’t like talking about Momz. It was hard to tell people that she was dead, but I had no choice this time: I had to tell Coach.
“She…my mom died when I was eleven,” I managed to say. I hoped my eyes weren’t tearing up like I was a little girl or something. Pops told me that real men don’t cry and I was a man; maybe I wasn’t a grown man just yet, but I was a man in my own eyes so I had to act like it.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Nyl. I didn’t know. Look,” Coach sounded like he wasn’t as mad anymore. “Maybe I can talk to your Pops and hook him up with a couple of people I know who might be able to look after your sister when he has to work late. As a matter of fact, I know the couple who run that daycare center around the corner over on Berta Street.”
“Uh, I’ll tell him about it, Coach. But he told me this morning that his shift is about to change,” I lied again. “So he’ll be getting off work early, so I won’t have to babysit anymore.”
Coach looked at me strange, but he didn’t say anything else about it. Whew, that was a close call. I didn’t want him asking twenty questions. But I also knew that something was going to have to give. I was going to have to tell somebody about my situation. Maybe I could tell Zach. Me and Zach had been buds for a minute, so part of me felt like I could trust him. Then again, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll keep things just like they are for a little while longer. Pops said the other day that he was going to try to get another spot for us to live. Man, I sure hope he can find us another place soon, real soon.
As I was leaving out the locker room and headed for the bus to go back to Fairley, I caught a glimpse of Sierra from the corner of my eye. Yeah, that girl definitely had it going on.
Coach Byrd walked up on me and some of the other players. Man, why couldn’t dude go talk to one of them? Instead, he stops me. I shook my head slightly.
“Uh, that’s cool, Coach.” Truth is I hadn’t heard a word he said.
“Cool?” What? What are you talking about? Where’s your mind, as if I don’t already know?” I followed Coach’s eyes as he looked at Sierra then back at me. “You can’t seem to take your eyes off that young lady over there.” Coach looked over where Sierra and her girls were gathering in front of the school bus. He stopped walking just as we were about to get on the bus and head back to Fairley.
“She’s aight, but I…I have to keep my mind on balling.”
“Y’all betta get your mind off the girls and keep focused,” Coach said. “I saw y’all boys checking out those cheerleaders, not just her. Now, I don’t know if you call yourself messing around with her or not, but I will tell you this, you better be glad you came back strong tonight, son. If you hadn’t, you would have had all the time in the world to watch her – right from the bench.”
“Yes, sir,” I answered and got on the bus. Coach was right, but he just didn’t know: girls weren’t my problem. Having a place to lay my head, and some real food in my stomach would go a long way to solving a lot of my problems.