Jumping Back into Practice
Last week felt weird without hoopin’. Saw Lakers Instagram post showin’ Anthony Davis back at practice after his knee thing. Got me hyped. Grabbed my old gym bag – dusty as hell – shook out dead leaves stuck inside from last fall. Dug through that mess: one mismatched sock, half-empty water bottle, sneakers smellin’ like cheesy feet. Threw it all in the wash on heavy duty.
Setting Up the Grind
Next mornin’, drove to that cracked public court behind Target. Dead serious – weeds pushin’ through concrete near the free-throw line. Swept that crap away with a broomstick found near dumpster. Started slow: ten minutes just bouncin’ the ball hard left-handed till my palm stung. Remembered how AD protects the rim, so I practiced blocking imaginary shots for twenty minutes straight. Jumped at every shadow on the ground like a maniac. Knees barkin’ already.
Key things I focused on:
- Defensive slides – low stance, quick shuffle
- Rebound positioning – boxing out invisible dudes
- Free throws – must’ve bricked forty before findin’ rhythm
The Reality Check
Three days in, my calves felt like concrete blocks. Woke up at 3am crampin’ so bad I yelled into a pillow. Could barely walk to my truck next day. Almost quit right there – then remembered AD playin’ through fractured damn tailbone last playoffs. Felt like a punk. Slapped icy-hot on my legs and limped back to the court. Worked on pivot footwork ’round rusted pole pretendin’ it was Jokic. Sweat drippin’ into my eyes, stung worse than salt.
Why This Hit Different
Whole thing took me back to senior year when I busted my ankle before playoffs. Doc said six weeks minimum. Snuck into school gym midnight with janitor buddy’s key. Shot jumpers on one damn foot while crutches leaned on bleachers. Teammates called me stupid. Coach benched me first half anyway. But when I subbed in fourth quarter? Three rebounds, one putback layup. Crowd went ape. Felt like Kobe in that moment – til Mom yelled from stands “BABY WIPE YOUR NOSE!” after whistle. Point is: comebacks ain’t pretty. They ache. They embarrass you. But showin’ up when your body screams “no” – that’s AD energy. Still got work to do, but this week reminded me basketball ain’t just about makin’ buckets. It’s about refusin’ to stay down.
