Prologue

Oakland high school faced off with Berkeley high school in the state championships. North of a thousand spectators gathered around the bleachers on every side of the buffed parquet court inside Oakland High’s gymnasium, the arena hosting the state championship basketball game. Both teams were undefeated. One must lose. Both teams featured future NBA draft picks. Neither team was favored towin.

The spacious gym exuded a thick tension of high energy, anxiousness, and excitement. The court shined with a buffed gleam. The orange rims were dented, and the nets worn, colored a dingy white. Enthusiastic cheerleaders represented their schools in a chorus of chants while they launched into their hypnoticroutines.

While the teams warmed up with light drills, the players tried to remain oblivious to the pressure of expected performances during this must win bout. The air was electrifying. In the crowd were teachers, classmates, family, girlfriends, coaches, and more importantly, college scouts. The star players would do their absolute best to impress scouts while coming away with an undefeated season, and championshiptrophies.

Number zero for Oakland High, a promising point guard, stole the crowd’s attention early on. He was able to capture the undivided attention from the audience because of his unusual warmup strategy. He showed off with a couple flashy dunks. His confidence soared from the oohs and awes coming from the stands. He loved the attention. If his warmup rhythm was a preview, then Berkley would not want to see this movie. He was in thezone.

As the game progressed, all eyes stayed on him. The fans cheered and socialized while watching the championship game unfold. The two teams were engaged in an intense battle. It was always a full house when these teams clashed. Number zero was unstoppable. He scored fourteen points in the first quarter, and sixteen in the second despite the opposing point guards smothering defense. He demonstrated a wide variety of skills in his repertoire. Which consisted of flaunting his streetball skills. He dazzled the crowd with his rainbow 3-pointers, devastating crossovers, an array of tricky assists, and delectable floaters over taller defenders. The gym was his playground. The stands erupted in praise, and the bench was animated. At half time Oakland led the game by twelve points. Number zero’s smile was on fullblast.

His personal rhythm continued after the inspirational speech from their coach during half time in the locker room. The team’s chemistry and momentum resumed as well. The spectators continued to watch Number zero’s unforgettable performance unravel. He picked up where he left off. He was in the process of breaking records by putting up astronomical numbers on the stat sheet. He was a billboard of highlights with unstealable handles, high flying dunks, and flashy no-look passes that occasionally hit unaware teammate in the chest. He had more