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The Shot
27-27, game tied, 0.9 seconds on the clock. I watched him make the first free throw as sweat dripped from my jersey. Now my turn: I stepped onto the paint and stared at the ground, skin prickling in anticipation of his second shot.
Deep breath, raised ball, flicked wrist.
The ball bounced off the rim.
I pushed the defense away and sprinted for the rebound. As soon as I felt my hands on the leather, I spun around and shot the ball with only an instinct of the basket. Swish. Whoosh.
The gym exploded.
Stars behind my eyes.
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Last year, our school's middle school basketball team was at its darkest moment, losing our school network tournament and the local inter-school tournament. When I joined the team, i said that I will bring our school a championship. That Saturday we won all of the prelim games. It was the semifinals game, and the we trailed the whole game. In the final quarter, we outscored our opponent by 5 points, and in the final moment, I took matters into my own hand. Thinking back, I would quote Michael Jordan, "No push off."