“All right, team, this week’s practice we’re scrimmaging against the Bearcats,” Coach Shabaka said to the boys as they sat on the gym floor. Nigel was familiar with Coach Shabaka’s good friend Coach Jaden of the Bearcats from past exhibition games. The Bearcats played in the Mississauga league, about a twenty-minute drive away from Brampton, so the Power and the Bearcats frequently sharpened skills against each other.
The two coaches stood mid-court, chatting while their teams did a shoot-around. The teams mirrored each other, as boys on both teams took close shots then backed up a little further as they made each basket. Nigel thought, Coach Shabaka and Coach Jaden really share the same philosophy. The Bearcats are just like us. They gonna be tough.
Nigel started shooting on the main basket with a few of the regulars from the Power — Omari, Kash and Asim. They worked together, rebounding the ball and getting it out to the next shooter. Nigel chased a rebound that went toward where Denham was dribbling. The boys stood face to face and gave each other a challenging look. Denham was the first to break the glare. In a playful manner, he elbow-jabbed Nigel in the ribs.
“Oh, wow, look at that jiggle. Yo, did anyone ever tell you that you could be a belly dancer?” laughed Denham. Nigel bit his lip and breathed heavily as Denham continued. “So, fat boy, looks like we’re teammates, bruh. I ain’t tripping about before. That’s all water off a duck now. Know what I’m saying? You’re pretty good. But I’m better and I’m gonna take over your team. Just know that.”
Nigel held back the urge to body check the smug smile right off Denham’s face.
“Jus’ playing, yo. Don’t be so serious,” Denham said, chuckling.
“We’ll see,” Nigel replied and dribbled back to the main basket.
This guy ain’t gonna see one pass from me this season, Nigel thought. Matter of fact, I’m gonna freeze his whole game. Ain’t no one gonna pass to him.
“Hey, guys, come here,” Nigel said to Omari, Kash and Asim. He motioned with his hand for the four of them to huddle together.
“What’s up, Nige?” asked Asim.
“Yo, guys. You know we’re good enough to win the championship this season, right?”
“Of course we are. We getting it done this season,” said Kash.
“Okay, so we have to stick together. We’re the core of this team. I’ve played with you guys for, like, four seasons, right? Two summer leagues and two winters. So we family. We can’t let just anyone come in here and mess up our flow —”
“What are you getting at, Nige?” Omari cut in. “We boys, we fam. Nothing breaks us up. No one gets in our way.”
“Exactly!” Nigel replied. “That’s what I’m saying. We don’t need outsiders. That guy Denham is an outsider. He don’t belong here.”
The boys all looked at each other, shocked by what Nigel was saying. They all peered at Denham out of the corners of their eyes.
Kash leaned in closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “My dude, what are you saying? Denham seems cool. And he can ball.”
“He’s not one of us!” Nigel quickly responded. “Don’t you guys remember in the summer? He played for the Tigers. He wore number five. They made fun of us. Called us names and fouled us on purpose when the ref wasn’t looking.”
“Ya, we almost had a brawl against those fools,” said Omari.
Nigel motioned for the boys to huddle even closer and whispered, “Look we don’t need Number 5 on our team to win. Don’t need him. Don’t want him.”
“Okay, but what can we do about that?” asked Asim. “Coach chose him for our team.”
“I’ve got a plan. Listen close. Something that will send him home crying to his mama,” said Nigel.
They were interrupted by a ball bouncing into the huddle. Sundeep ran over to retrieve it. “What’s up, fellas! We having a meeting?”
“Hey, Sun,” the boys replied separately. Nigel waved Sundeep off as if nothing interesting was going on. “No meeting. Just telling jokes,” he said.
Sundeep’s expression showed confusion. “Jokes? But no one’s laughing. Sure you’re not having a meeting?”
Nigel tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice. “Nah, bredrin, no meeting. I’m just not that funny. That’s all. I need better jokes.”
The other boys began to laugh at Nigel.
“Oh, look. Now these guys are laughing. I guess I’m getting funnier already.”
“Whatever, Nigel,” said Sundeep. “You act weird sometimes.” He dribbled back to the basket he had come from.
“Yo, why you ain’t tell Sundeep the plan?” asked Kash. “He been around from the beginning like the rest of us. He’s core squad.”
“True,” said Nigel. “But I don’t know if he can be trusted. He and Denham go to the same school. Not that they are friends or anything. But look, they already talking to each other. Sun might feel guilty, tell him and spoil everything.”
The boys all nodded in agreement, then huddled close to listen to Nigel’s plan.
A few minutes later, Coach Shabaka and Coach Jaden blew their whistles to begin practice. As usual, the boys ran drills, sprints and more drills. They discussed game situations and defensive principles.
“Remember, stay low on defence. Hands up at all times. Move your feet — don’t reach. If you reach, the ref will call a foul. Just stay in front of your man. If everyone does that, we’ll force turnovers and get fast-break opportunities,” said Coach Shabaka. The boys all nodded. “All right. You boys ready to scrimmage?”
“Yah!!!” the boys yelled and started pounding balls on the floor with excitement.
“Okay. Settle down, boys. Put your balls on the side and we’ll get started. Hurry up, I got something for you.”
Coach Rodney was carrying two giant, see-through bags of uniforms. When the boys noticed, they crowded around him, jumping up and down. Coach Rodney neatly spread a few of the jerseys on the gym floor. The boys were hypnotized by the stunning black jerseys with bold, bright-green letters that read POWER. The jerseys also had a shiny red patch under the collar that read POWER.
“Coach, you changed our colours! We’re not powder blue anymore?” said Sundeep.
“That’s correct. I had the chance to upgrade our uniforms. The colours are important to me, as they represent the African Liberation flag created with the support of Marcus Mosiah Garvey. Most of you might remember me talking about him during summer league.”
“Ya, I remember you telling us about Marcus Garvey,” said Nigel. “That he was a journalist and poet. And that he tried to unite Black people around the world.”
“That’s correct. He wanted Black people to be proud of themselves, despite the negative things others would say about them. He wanted people to know their history, and said that a people without knowledge of their past is like . . .”
Some of the boys joined in, “. . . like a tree without roots.”
“Exactly. Yes, you boys do remember. The colours represent African liberation and unity around the world. Red is for the blood that unites all people. Black represents people of African ancestry. And green is for the land and abundant natural wealth of Africa. They are a symbol of African people, here in North America and around the world. These colours say we share the same history and will share the same destiny of freedom as well.”
“So . . . when we wear these colours it means we are freedom fighters?” Amen said jokingly. The boys laughed.
Coach Shabaka chuckled and replied, “You know what? Yes. Yes, you are. But not only when you wear these uniforms. Every day. Everywhere you go, you should represent freedom and unity for all people. No matter what they look like. We should accept people for who they are.”
The boys sat quietly, nodding their heads, until Coach Shabaka shouted, “Now who wants to wear number thirty-two? How about number eleven . . . and number twenty-three?”