It was about 5:30 in the evening. Daniel and I were at the school’s gymnasium for the basketball tryouts. Surprisingly, it attracted a large crowd. Spectators sat on the bench, some to support their friends while others just lounged around to kill time. The headcount was roughly about 20 people. The energy in the court was mixed as some looked nervous while others exuded overconfidence. 

We all wore bright-colored vests. The varsity team, who wore orange vests, was also in attendance. We, on the other hand, wore blue vests. Some helped direct and supervised us, while others practiced amongst themself on the other side of the court. 

“Alright, girls!” shouted the head coach as he blew the whistleblower that hung around his neck. “Let’s see what you’ve got!” 

We all lined up as we listened attentively to what today’s audition would entail. There were basically three stages: physical endurance, shooting skills, and a mock game to see how we flowed on the court.

The first stage was to test our cardio and endurance. We made several short sprints back and forth from one end of the basketball court to the other. We were at thirty-one laps by the time I stopped counting. 

By the time we lined up to move up to the second stage, a quarter of our number had diminished. We all lined up at the 3-points line and shot the ball as quickly as possible to hope it landed perfectly in the hoop. It had to be repeated three times. We had to score at least two perfect shots. Those who couldn’t cut it were pulled from the court, which made some people in line more nervous as more and more guys were pulled from the court for missing their second and third shots. 

“Keep practicing!” shouted the coach as another student missed his third shot. His shoulders slouched forwards as he headed towards a group of friends who had been cheering him on.

It was Dan’s turn. His shot landed pretty easily. I quickly followed with a clean one as well. We could hear a few random spectators cheering us on. One of the guys who landed his third shot clasped his hands together as he waved them up and side to side to the supportive crowd. 

“Hey, you!” Shouted the slightly annoyed coach. “Maybe you want to do a pirouette too? Can somebody get a tutu for this guy?” 

The whole gym exploded in laughter as the coach teased him. The guys from the varsity team especially were enjoying the situation more than anyone else. It was hard to miss them low-key snickering at the poor guy. Being freshmen, it was quite apparent that they looked down on us. 

“If you have time to parade around. Why don’t you run a few laps? Come one, give me five!” Added coach. 

Soon, it was time to begin the third and final stage: a mock game. By then, more than half of our original number had decreased. About eight of us were left. It was finally time to square off with the varsity team. 

“Hey, we got this.”, whispered Daniel next to me as we listened to the coach’s instructions.

“Piece of cake.” I shrugged, not the least bit worried. 

At the sound of the whistle, everyone ran and spread out across the court.