It took a while to get back to your hotel room, and right now the time's well past midnight. You know you've been avoiding getting back to your room for one particular reason, and you hope that reason is sleeping by now. Slowly and carefully, you swipe your card key and open the door to your room hoping you won't wake up your roommate, if he is asleep. With small steps, you enter the room and you hear the television on.
Well, your luck always did suck.
Walking to your bed, you see Sam. All attempts to avoid him now are pretty hard, so you know you're gonna have to face the facts. You failed your team, you failed yourself, and you failed him. He must be pretty upset with you.
You open your mouth to speak when he cuts you off.
"Jake, stop."
You do, and figure you're gonna be in for it, so you close your eyes, cherishing the last few minutes of your friendship.
When you don't hear any scolding or yelling of any sort, you open your eyes to blink. You want to make sure the sound you're hearing is right, because what it sounds like is Sam laughing. Opening your eyes wider, you blink once more, and that sound is confirmed when you see your friend nearly rolling on his side of the bed.
"Uhh..." are the only words that manage to come out of your words.
"I'm sorry, I just couldn't hold it in any more. You should have seen that look on your face, you were all 'oh, I'm so screwed, I'm so screwed!' and then when you closed your eyes, that added even more to that look, ahahaha, sorry man, it was just classic, seeing you all like that!" he said once he got up from his bed while grinning at you.
Again, you can't really find more coherent words coming from your mouth as all you're muttering is
"Wha? Huh?"
"Jake, I know you better than anybody on this team, and you should know me a lot better to think I'd actually let a stupid thing like a missed shot come between our friendship! Jake, you're a funny kid."
By now, his words are starting to make you feel a bit stupid on how you were acting earlier: avoiding attempts to look at him or talk with him in the locker room and so on. In many ways, he's right. You should have known your friendship would go deeper than anything else. But still, you can't help but feel you disappointed him, even if the two of you still are good friends.
You sigh and gather yourself, finally being able to speak coherently.
"Sam... it's not just about that. I-"
He interrupts you.
"Feel that you've somehow 'disappointed' me. That you've 'failed' us all."
You look at him, but then realize that you shouldn't be that surprised. The two of you have talked with each other back and forth since the day you started "playing" for the team. It's only natural he'd know you like this by now. You've always been known to be one of the most self-critical people when it comes to anything: school, sports, work, and the list goes on and on.
"I oughta be offended by that. I woulda thought you'da known me better by know to know that I could care less if you made or missed that shot. You're still a freshman. You've got so much more years ahead of you."
"But that loss! Surely it somehow affected your draft status going into the pros next year!"
Sam shrugged.
"I played as hard as I could this game, and the numbers showed. No score or draft status will ever tell me how I play."
You open your mouth only to be stopped by Sam.
"Look, you missed a big shot in one game. I get that. I get that it's the championships, and I get the meaning that it's supposed to have when we all walk around on campus knowing we've gotten this far, but you know what? All that's just a bunch of hype. Sure, it would have been great to get that title, and I'll admit that I'm definitely upset that we didn't win it, but I'm not upset at you, and I'm not blaming anything on you."
"I missed the shot! I could have passed the ball to somebody else who had a better chance of making it! I shouldn't have screwed up that one pass when I was inbounding the ball! How can you not blame any of it on me?"
"I missed the shot. I could have done this. I could have done that. Come on man, are you really listening to yourself right now? Can you really hear how stupid all of that sounds?"
You want to say something at this, but you pause. It's better to continue hearing him out.
"Jake, you're way too self-critical of yourself, and that is the only downfall in your game as a point guard. Yes, you're supposed to be hard on yourself, and I know I'm hard on myself too at many times, but you can't do this. You can't blame yourself for not making that shot, because anything could have happened. There was two seconds left. That's barely enough time to let yourself think clearly, so I know how you must have felt at that time, and I'm not blaming you for that. I would have felt that nervous too, and I'm a senior. That same result could have happened to anybody else on the team, and there's no reason to get down because you missed one shot. You'll get tons of other shots in the future, I know you will."
"How can you be so sure? I'm a third string point guard who's gonna be a sophomore next year. I've barely shown anything in the regular season, and the only thing people, especially Coach, will be looking at is that shot that I missed. That's surely gonna affect his decision in if I even make the team next year."
"Yeah, but you've got to realize this too: remember those times we've played together in practice and scrimmage?"
"Yeah, but what's any of that got to do with this?"
"I've watched you all those times, and I see that talent you have. Coach sees it too, because we talk about it together a lot."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. I've told him that I know you have what it takes to do it for this team, and I know that you can accomplish greater things in the future."
"Look, just because you're a third string point guard, that doesn't mean anything. You're a freshman, and you were the only freshman on this team. When I started out, I was a freshman and there was only one other kid me who was also in his first year. He was the only person I really got to talk to on the team, and the poor kid never got any playing time. That kid got played in the championship game of our freshman year, and he was absolutely terrible and we lost that game miserably. But you know what happened the next year? Coach Barnes let him play gradually, and of course he had to prove himself as a player, so it took a little while, but when he did, he soared through the roof. We won ourselves a championship my sophomore year, and he went out and got drafted. I continued to learn and learn, and got to where I am today."
"But what if I can't learn? What if I'm nothing like that kid you played with who got the chance to shine?"
"Ah Jake, that self critique of yours is sometimes honorable, at times amusing, and most of the times it's just flat out annoying. I know you have the work ethic to succeed: I've seen you shoot jump shot after jump shot when everybody clears the gym, and I'm betting Coach has probably seen it many times. I know you have that drive, and I know you definitely have that talent. It hasn't woken up in this game, but I know it will wake up soon."
After talking with Sam, you do believe that he's made a lot of valid points, and it's probably better not to see the glass on the half-empty side. What happens next year? You're not sure, but talking with your only best friend on the team has certainly helped to put a lot of confidence in you.
"I can see by the look on your face that you're still a little confused, but I can tell that I'm getting through to you."
"Maybe," you reply, as the two of you share another laugh.
"Look, I know I probably won't be seeing much of you after this year, but that doesn't mean we can't continue to keep in touch. I mean, we still have each others cell phone numbers and e-mail addresses."
"Yeah, you're right. I'd hate to say goodbye because I know this isn't goodbye at all."
"Of course it's not. We're gonna be seeing each other a lot more in the pros. And who knows? Maybe we'll even face off one day in the NBA championships."
"You, I can see, but me... first I have to be able to prove I can play to myself," you reply, as you feel a yawn. You look at the clock and see that the time now is 2:15 AM. The two of you have been talking for two hours by now, but it seems neither of you have been starting to realize that until now. You start to pull the covers over your head as you start dimming the lights by your bed.
On the other bed, you see that Sam's starting to do the same. He's probably ten times as tired as you are after the game he played today.
"And you will," Sam said, smiling as the two of you slowly drift off to sleep.