The Spin by Marcus Stroman

Author:Marcus Stroman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aladdin
Published: 2023-07-11T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

The next morning Dad is waiting for baseball practice, as usual.

“You are a heck of a ballplayer,” he says, smiling.

“Thanks,” I say.

“I mean basketball,” Dad says.

I look up. “You mean that?”

“Do I lie to you?” asks Dad.

I laugh. “No,” I say. “But we lost.”

Dad shrugs. “Yeah, sometimes that happens. But you didn’t lose because you didn’t play well. You lost because the other team was better at shots and a little more disciplined. You guys are going to go far this season.”

Then he walks over and crouches down, holding up his glove.

I throw.

But my mind isn’t in it.

“Control the spin!” Dad calls.

My thoughts are spinning. Is he telling me I’m good at basketball just to make me feel better for losing?

I try to center myself. I try to breathe deeply. But I’m just getting worked up and throwing wildly.

“Whoa!” Dad yells as I come a little close to winging one at his head.

He sits back and looks at me. “Okay, let’s move on to core,” he says.

I run around the cones. I do mountain climbers. I do push-ups and sit-ups. Then I do planks.

It should wear me out, but all it does is heat me up.

I stomp around the yard, putting the cones and balls back into the shed.

Then I huff over to pick up my basketball. We’re at Mom’s house, so I slam the gate, go into the driveway, and bang away at shots.

“Marcus,” says Dad, standing nearby. “I know you don’t like losing. But don’t lose focus.”

“You mean don’t lose focus on baseball, right?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says. “Don’t let losing a basketball game take away your focus on baseball practice.”

“Why?” I yell, chucking the ball at the garage door. Dad eyes the door, where there’s now a scuff mark.

“What do you mean, why?” he asks. “Because you have a real shot at baseball, a shot at becoming a pro. You can’t get distracted.”

“I am not distracted!” I scream, loud enough that Mom opens the front door and steps out.

“Our son is upset about his game last night,” says Dad by way of explanation.

“ ‘Our son is upset about the game’?” I yell. “Of course I’m upset about the game. We lost. I lost! But it’s not about the game!”

“What is this about, then?” asks Mom.

“It’s about you not supporting me playing basketball,” I say. I instantly felt better after I say that.

“Of course we support you,” says Mom, looking confused.

“Well, yes, if it’s not getting in the way of or conflicting with baseball,” I answer. “Everyone just sees me as a baseball player. Maybe I can be both. Maybe I can be a baseball player and a basketball player and a football player. And a tennis player!”

“That’s a lot of practices,” says Mom.

I look at her.

“Okay,” she says. “No one is saying you can’t also be a tremendous basketball player. Or an all-around athlete.”

“He is,” I say, practically spitting my words at Dad. “He doesn’t care about basketball.”

“That’s not true, son,” says Dad. “What have I done to make you think that?”

“You make me get out here every day and train for baseball.

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