"Dad, I would love it if you could come to my game tomorrow," Tanya said.
"Honey, don't talk with food in your mouth," our overzealous mom said, hinting at slight anger. If there was anything she took seriously, it was manners.
"Well, I won't make it because I am very busy this weekend," Dad answered with his usual straight face—not that he could help being straightforward and honest.
I really wondered why Tanya bothered asking our dad if he could make it to the game. The only two times he attended her numerous games were during an argument with mom and when he had to make a speech for his governor campaign.
"So, how is your new school, Kelly? Is anything going on?" My dad asked without raising his eyes from his food.
"No, nothing is going on," I replied, trying my best not to show the anger of having to answer the same question every time, which meant something absolutely different.
My dad was one of the best basketball players in his youth. He always said that back in the good days, every man from a black family had some balling going on. He chased his dreams until an awful accident affecting his hips ended his basketball career. He changed his focus to politics and became a successful, wealthy man. But the scar of not being able to chase his dreams remained. He took basketball seriously, never missing a game. The problem was, unlike him, I didn't have any serious interest in basketball. He always talked about how I could achieve his unachieved dreams when I was small. When I turned out not to have any interest, the disappointment was unimaginable.
Amidst my dad's unyielding passion for basketball, he consistently stressed the importance of sportsmanship – a value he held dear, even as he encouraged me to pursue the game with unwavering determination.
Dad finished his meal and left for work. Yes, it was late at night, but he always had something going on in the office.
"We're all done with our food. Tanya, help get those cups; my hands are full already," my mom said as she carried the plates to the kitchen.
Tanya sluggishly dragged herself up and sighed, "okay." I knew she was sad that our dad turned her down. She always thought it was because she played volleyball instead of the basketball he loved so much. Everyone else knew it was because it wasn't I playing the games. I was good at basketball—had the height, speed, and skills—but I wasn't serious about it. I was more serious about drawing, which I had a passion for.
At school, I excelled in everything but math. When we received our test score sheet, I was graded a 'D.'
Finally, it was break time. I was walking out to get lunch with my friends when my teacher called me back. "Kelly, I need to talk to you real quick."
"I hope I ain't in trouble," I asked.
"No, it's not that you are in trouble, but the 'D' you got in that test really brought your grade down below the standard for Billy University."
Billy University was my first and only choice. So that kind of news was really bad for me.
"Well, that can be solved. I can always refer another university to you. But since you love that university so much, you can always join the basketball team to get some extra credit."
"Okay, thanks, Miss Andrews. I will think about it." There was nothing to think about; I was going to join the basketball team.
I joined the basketball team and was getting on well, but I hadn't told anyone at home that I was now on the basketball team. I didn't want anyone (especially my dad) to expect anything more from me.
During dinner, Tanya was telling us about her day when my mom interrupted her, "Oh, that reminds me, Joshua's mom told me that you were now on the basketball team and would be playing against another school."
I almost coughed up the salad that was midway down my throat, "Yes, I am."
I could see the way my father's eyes lit up, "Well, why didn't you tell anyone?"
"I didn't want to disturb any of you," I answered.
"You're not disturbing anyone, darling," my mom said.
"What time will it be?" My dad asked.
"It should be in the afternoon."
"I will fix it in my schedule," my dad said.
I could see the anger and jealousy on Tanya's face.
The day for the game arrived, and to everyone's surprise except mine, my dad was seated front row. It was going quite well until I used a trick move on an opposing player, and he fell flat to the ground. The guy, who was twice my size, got up and out of anger punched me in the tummy. The pain was excruciating, and I fell to the ground. My mom yelled and rushed to me, while my dad made sure the other team was given a foul by the referee. I was rushed to emergency, but we still won the game that day.
Later, I got my grade up and promised myself I wouldn't get into anything that would make me play again. As for my dad, he was disappointed that I still had no strong passion and left the team immediately after I got what I wanted. But I wasn't worried at all; it wasn't the first time he was disappointed in me. I had made a decision I was ready to follow.
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