The Step Back by J.T. Bushnell

Author:J.T. Bushnell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: BISAC category 2: FIC043000 FICTION / Coming of Age
BISAC category 3: FIC045010 FICTION / Family life / Marriage & Divorce
BISAC category 4: FIC038000 FICTION / Sports
Publisher: Ooligan Press
Published: 2021-05-11T00:00:00+00:00

12

When basketball season rolled around in early November, I kept the assignment for myself, and my first call was to Knute Buhner. I’d realized by then that it would have been improper to room with a source, so I mostly felt like I’d dodged a bullet, at least until I explained that I was working on a preview article for the basketball team, and Knute answered, “Then you’ll probably want to talk to someone on the basketball team.”

“I thought that’s what I was doing.”

“Sorry. I quit.”

“What? Why?”

“It takes up too much time, and what do you even get out of it? It’s not like I’m on scholarship like Sully and those guys.”

I was confused. From what I understood, athletic scholarships were against the rules in Division III sports, and academic scholarships went to students who were even more proficient in the classroom than I was. I’d applied for all of them the previous spring but won only the two hundred dollars that came with the Honor Society’s GPA award. The more substantial scholarships, some covering more than half a year’s tuition, had gone elsewhere.

“Won’t you miss it?” I asked.

“Not really. I’ll light it up in intramurals. That’ll be fun.”

Next I called the coach. The domestic noise of his family was in the background as he answered my questions about new player rotations and offensive strategies. When I asked about athletic scholarships, he confirmed that they weren’t allowed in Division III. “We do offer a few merit-based awards,” he added.

That week I filed two public information requests, one for the academic scholarships awarded by the college and another for eligibility reports for the men’s basketball team. It turned out that A.C. Sullinger, the Division-I transfer, was receiving a number of academic scholarships at Sequoia despite his 2.8 grade point average—respectable, certainly, but not worthy of the high prizes he’d taken away from students like me. Other players were receiving lesser amounts.

It had the makings of a scandal and a big story, but I sat on it, trying to figure out what to do. I’d gotten to know Sully from our interviews. He was from a rough area and was the first in his family to attend college. He was also humble and kind, quick to celebrate his teammates but reluctant to accept praise for himself, even though he made plays that nobody else on the court was capable of. An article about improper benefits probably meant he would never play basketball again. It might also mean an end to his education. I didn’t know if I wanted to be responsible for something like that.

***

My mother started calling about Christmas. She said she was making plans for Charlie and me to come to Maryland, and not just for the holiday. She and Jane—“the woman I’m with,” she always added, as if I had trouble keeping track of all the Janes in her life—had everything in order for their civil union and they thought it would be nice if everyone was there to attend.

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