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Not Bad, Joe ... MAG
I am on the foul line. Sweat streams down my face. I hear coaches screaming whatto do, and not do. There's a lot of excitement in the air. I smell the sweat ofthe other players, panting from running up and down the court. We're ahead by onewith seven seconds left. As I glance to my right, I see the look in Coach Matt'seyes. We both know I could sink these two shots in my sleep. But when there areseven seconds left and you're up by only one, the pressure starts to get to you.I taste a mouthful of opportunity. This game definitely bestows bragging rights.The ref hands me the ball.
Wow, this thing feels like a boulder, I'm sonervous! Get a hold of yourself, Joe, I tell myself. I take a deep breath andconcentrate on the back of the rim. Bounce ... Bounce ... Bounce ... I shoot, andwatch the ball fly out of my hands and through the air; there is dead silence.The ball hits the rim once and falls through the net. Yes! There are some cheers,and some groans. My teammates keep cheering me on. I receive the ball from theref with the opposing team trying to get in my head. We're up by two, I think. Isink this in, we win. Bounce ... Bounce ... Bounce ... Oh, no! It went off myright pinky. It seems I have taken a bad shot. But before I can decide whether itis good or bad, the ball soars through the air and goes straight through the net.Yes! I say to myself. There is a burst of cheers. I drop back to play defense.Five seconds left.
Someone from the opposing team drives through the laneand lays the ball through the basket. Up by one, I receive the ball. There'ssomeone down court, I say to myself. I heave the ball to him. He then lays it infor two, game over. We win! I jog off the court in happiness and notice CoachMatt. He congratulates me with the rest of the team in a very pleased way andsays, "Not bad, Joe, not bad."
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