It was the midway point of the season, the ending of July, the point where most teams are gearing up for the playoffs, trying to fight for a spot in said playoff or in rebuild mode. But my team? My team was in destruction mode, I could not believe what was happening in front of my eyes, the Jaguars were tanking, when we could be winning it all.

I was once again following the coach after one particular bad game, my voice was loud enough for my teammates to hear and I hope they did, “Cassandra, I gotta be missing something because I just saw a massacre right there on the field, we lost by forty, forty, we had 60 points! And Celine was laughing when the game ended,” she continued to walk away from me, my voice seemingly not loud enough to reach her, “She’s getting paid one million a year! Is it just me? Am I the only one who cares a little bit? Am I the idiot? Because she is really smart, she just shows up, runs around for 25 minutes and gets paid a million bucks.”

She finally turned to me,eyes filled with anger, like she should be, after a loss like that, “We traded for her, we couldn't choose her salary, and what’d you want her to do? Cry?”

I stuttered for a moment, the absurdity of the situation hitting me like a truck, “Y-yeah!? If I hooped like that I would be crying my eyes out, she had 0. I’m hurt and if I played I wouldn't have 0, That’s, like, embarrassing.”

I was interrupted by Celine, she is a young black woman, not really much to say about her, an average WNBA player, not that tall, not that short, not that strong not weak, she is the most mid player I’ve ever seen with my own two eyes, “What are you even saying? At least we are playing, how about you? When are you gonna lace up and do something?”

“Why you mad at me? I wasn't the one that let Saya drop 50 on our asses, she had more points than all of our starting line up combined. How are you standing in front of me instead of going straight to practice? Or better yet, go back to college because you ain’t a basketball player,” I turned to the coach, “yo, can we trade this one for a better chef? I think it’s reasonable.”

After my reasonable question, what followed was a screaming match that lasted about fifty four minutes, in which they tried to pretend that they were trying and just had a bad game. I didn’t buy it, later that week the head coach, my agent and I went to the GM’s office.

“I ain’t coming back.” I said, as soon as I sat down.

“And why is that?” Robert asked without looking up from his desk.

“They don’t deserve me, that about sums it up, they bums.” I gave him one single slow clap and turned to Emile, ready to leave the room, when Jeremy did look up, it wasn't at me, but at my agent.

“So are you just going to sit it out?”

“We leaving that’s wh—” I began, but Emile raised her hand, and I’m a pretty talkative person if you haven’t guessed already, but if she tells me to shut up, I need to shut up.

She took a piece of paper out of the many files she carried, placing it gently on his desk, “As you can see here, her contract ends in two years, after the boom in 2020, her salary, just like many others have increased exponentially, even if she does opt out and just rides the bench, there will still be a big dent in the team’s cap room.”

“So you’re asking for a trade.” Cassandra added with an arrogant smile, receiving a disapproving look from my agent.

“No, I know the value of my player, but it’s not only hard to show what she can do after an injury when she doesn’t want to play. But the trades would certainly be… underwhelming for the value this one could give you. Especially since we are far past the deadline, so you can’t even really search for picks while in the last place.”

“A disgrace to the state of Texas by the way.”  I added.

Emilie continued, unrelenting, “Yes, yes, terrible but truthful. Next year, the Bobcats are going to enter the league, leaving this one unprotected, you will free up a lot of your cap room, without any of the drama behind asking for a trade, and, if you sign right here,” she gave him another piece of paper, “she will play the remainder of the games, you will end up with a satisfying record but still be able to get a good lottery next year, she can’t do miracles yet.”

We all stayed in silence as he read, I mean, I was whispering to my coach about how I would destroy her next year, but everyone else was quiet, until Robert let out a dry laugh, “So if I do protect her, she receives ten million dollars in compensation?”

“It’s just a guarantee, it’s not like you would betray us, but it’s better to be safe than sorry, right?”

“If you trust us, why’d you want him to sign it?” Cassandra asked, like an idiot.

“If he doesn’t plan on leaving her protected, then there is no issue with singing it, you can call your lawyers if you want, we will be waiting, but if I were you, I would do it quickly, we are moving closer and closer to Indiana’s record of 20 straight loses. Good day to both of you.”

She got up, grabbed me by the hand and took me out of the room, I was feeling delighted that we destroyed them, but as soon as we began to walk down the hall her face showed me that I shouldn't be happy, so I asked, “Why are we not celebrating? Should I be sad? I kinda wanna be happy…?”

“They have no obligation to sign it, you can be benched and stay there, you can play like 2023 James Harden in the 76ers, they can just trade you to somewhere underwhelming and even if you do get drafted in the expansion, you are probably going to be a middle of the pack team, an—”

I interrupted her, throwing my fist in the air and yelling, “No team with me is a mid team, I’m gonna turn the purrcats into the 86 Celtics, just without the racism.”

A disclaimer, love the Celtics, Larry Bird is my goat, I cried when they won in 2023, but yeah, that’s the story on how I became a Bobcat, my team was a bunch of cowards, my agent is sick, I’m great, I should be the main character.

“Nice to meet you Dina.” Hannah is the only one that greets her after she just spent the last five minutes bragging about everything she did in the last two years and what she plans to do on this new team.

Yuki looks from her new teammate to her friend, “Hannah, we’ve played four all stars games with her,”

“But we are going to be actually teammates now, it’s only nice for us to say it’s nice to meet them.”

“So are you gonna pretend like you don’t know Barbara?” Yuki says while pointing at another player, the player only smiles and waves.

Hannah frowns, she leans forwards gesticulating while she loudly asks,“why are you mad at me? I don’t think I did anything wrong this time?”

Laura opens her mouth to stop the scrabble, but Gabriel touches her arm, silently telling her to be quiet, after a second, she understands that he wants to let the players talk out in the open and that resentment is terrible for the team, feeling proud of her assistant she stays quiet, unfortunately missing the sly smile on his face as he gets ready to hear the gossip surrounding his two best players, not even thinking about the chemistry.

“You don’t know? You told ESPN that you would win in 1-on-1 against me!” Yuki yells out, hearing the low “oohhh” coming from her teammates as they turn to Hannah, waiting for an answer.

Yuki is not actually angry about that, it’s been years since she played an one on one besides one or two quick possessions or in practice, and she certainly does not think she can beat Hannah in one of those. What she is hurt by, is another thing that was said in the interview. When asked by the reporter if she had any friends in the new team she only mentioned Barbara and a couple of acquaintances.

The center has been on edge ever since, just waiting for an opportunity to fight with her acquaintance, Shrugging, Hannah answers, “You really care about that? I was just being truthful, It’s not like you’re playing a lot and I usually score a lot over you s—”

“What!? When? Are you dreaming? Is anyone hearing this? How the hell would you stop me?” Yuki interrupts, the anger at her friend mixing with the frustration of not playing for the whole offseason.

“I think it would be a great match to see…” Cia quietly points out, almost like she is afraid to speak.

Hannah raises her hands, in a pacifying gesture, “I don’t think you can stop me that’s why I said that if I get the ball first I win, it’s just what I believe, maybe you can prove me wrong as the year goes by.”

Yuki rolls her eyes, dramatically swinging her head to the left, “oh my God, we don’t need to wait a year, we can go right now! I swear you will not leave zero.”

“Since when do you even do one on ones? Jesus, is Santa Fe's weather making you high?”

Yuki opens her mouth to say another bitter comment, but she is interrupted by one of the other players, Barbara, getting up in a louder tone she says, “Shut up!” When all the eyes turn to her in the newfound silence she adds, “You guys are interrupting a team meeting by fighting like children, stop it.”

While her words are still hanging in the air, Yuki feels entitled to point at Hannah, her long arms traveling over Cia and stopping right under Court’s nose, “She started.”

“No I didn—”

Before they can go back to arguing, Barbara interrupts them, “Enough. If you two want to argue about that, wait until after this and go play against each other, right now there are people waiting to speak.”

Cia’s eyes widen, Dina mutters “lame” while Hannah apologizes and Yuki just lowers her head, conceding, for now. Before the woman can sit down again, Gabriel takes advantage of the situation to say, “Let’s keep it going then, please Barbara, introduce yourself.”

The woman stops for a moment, almost like she just realized she was standing up, after a sigh, she begins, all of the bravado leaving her voice, not a single sign of the authoritative tone that she was just using, “I’m 37,” She ignores the “damn” coming from Dina, “I play the four, but I can be the five, not… not that I need when Saya is here…” she gently moves her hand, pointing at Yuki, eyes lighting up with admiration.

“I mostly focus on the defensive side, but I’m not a total dummy in offense either, I… oh, I forgot to tell you, my name is Barbara Miranda.

She gently spins the wine glass in her hand, this room has three things, a tv on the floor, a bottle and Barbara. She hates it. She hates moving, she hates packing everything, she hates that she can’t stay somewhere for more than two years, she hates that she can never be home, she can never be safe.

She looks at her highlights playing on the tv, one of the few videos made about her, it’s not like she has that many minutes to be seen, she has never managed to be a consolidated starter, she looks at her young face, smiling down the court as she dunks the ball on her rookie year, the same smile appears on her face now, fifteen years later, but then, the clip ends and the next one is in her last season.

The smile fades as she looks at herself, older, of course, she is taller, around 6’4, listed as 6’5, shaggy hair tied in a tight ponytail just like always, no light in her brown eyes, no smile on her face, lips pursed in a tight line as she sprints down the court, not even when she blocks Patricia’s shot she smiles. She looks common, unremarkable, not even a role player, a bench player at best. She used to be a brown dot in transition, way faster than most tall players, but now her knees hurt when she runs, now she gets tired after fighting for a rebound, now she would never throw herself at the ball so it doesn’t fall out of bounds, but at the beginning she would lose an arm to give one possession to the team, give her blood for a win and she would give her life for a ring.

“Oh my, is that girl single? I want her to block my face like that…” The voice of Troy brings her attention away from the screen.

A few good inches shorter than her, white skin, wispy blonde bangs and a trickster smile on his face as he walks over to her, not only shorter, but weaker than the woman at his side, Barbara almost laugh at the irony that he is the only reason why she is still playing when he couldn't play one good game of baseball to save his life.

“She is unfortunately not single, and her husband is a beast too, so good at the sheets and in the streets.”

“Oh he’s that great? She has to treat him right then, maybe she should stop drinking wine in the middle of the afternoon, how about that?” He asks, his smile faltering as he grabs the bottle from the floor, taking a small swig from it.

“It’s my offseason! I can rest, can't I? And it’s not like I’ll play when we get to New Mexico.” She said, while downing the end of her wine, not really tasting it, but still happy to at least finish something.

Pouring just enough to fill half of her glass, Troy says, “Laura said that you’ll be an integral part of the season.”
“They always say that, they need to say that so I can do their jobs with the rookies,”

“Or, you can be a veteran on the court, it’s not like you can’t still play thirty minutes a game, or has my wife turned into a little lazy podcaster?”

“I think that the day I start a podcast is the day you’ll lose me, and let’s be honest, when was the last time I played more than twenty minutes?”

She is the player that has played for the most franchises in the whole WNBA, when she puts on the Bobcats jersey she will have gone through 11 teams. Just thinking about it makes her sick, not a single GM gives her a two year contract without at least making it a 1+1.

The door to their apartment opens again, almost at the same height of the man that just entered, Barbara sees the other reason why she has settled, why she doesn’t get to practice early and never leaves late. Anna is taller for a teen, chubby face, pale brown skin and very short curly hair, wearing just the oversized shirt of her mom when she played in the New Orleans Seagulls, her second team, where she wore the number 82. 

“Mom!!! There’s no beaches in Santa Fe! Can’t we stay here?” she asks, moving forwards and showing her phone to Barbara.

The Power forward sadly looks at her daughter, the pain of always traveling, always moving away from her friends, always promising to win it all but never getting close to it, Barbara has to worry about where her house is, how long she will stay there, what school to enroll Anna in, how she will fit with her new teammates, how will Anna fit in a new state. But the thing she hates doing the most is lying.

With a slight smile, she leans forwards, messing up Anna’s hair lovingly, and she does just that, lie, just like she always does in every offseason, “This time's for real, Mom needs a ring right? The Bobcats are gonna give me one!”