Coach Benson gives me a nod of acknowledgment that I return. Mr. Williams is busy writing something on a clipboard. I head straight for the rack of basketballs, feeling better once I have the familiar weight of the rough rubber in my hands. I dribble down the court to the opposite end, savoring the rhythmic smack of the ball against the hardwood.

There’s still a prickle of anxiety in my chest. A reminder that the sphere I’m bouncing is my ticket to something else. Rather than just excitement to be playing, there’s apprehension as well. Pressure.

I stop at the foul line and start shooting, sending the ball through the hoop over and over again. I haven’t missed one, when Coach Benson calls us all over to the bleachers. He’s the type of coach who encourages dedication out of his players, rather than demands it. He takes the sport seriously but doesn’t insinuate the sun won’t rise the following day if we lose a single game.

I take one half-court Hail Mary shot as I follow the rest of the team over to the blue and yellow bleachers that take up one wall of the gymnasium. I make it, prompting awed looks from some of the younger guys. Mark rolls his eyes as I drop down on the bleachers beside him.

Coach Benson begins by introducing the new members of the team, all of which I met. Then he launches into his expectations for the season. It’s a speech I’ve already heard three times now. I zone out, more focused on playing with a stray thread on the hem of my mesh shorts.

Once Coach starts discussing the start of the season, I perk up. He outlines the schedule I have memorized, including our practices and weight sessions. Team dinners and away games. We’ll have a couple of weeks of straight practice before our schedule picks up, just before winter break.

My dad promised he’d be back for Thanksgiving and the week after, meaning he’ll have a chance to see me play for the first time in over a year. He isn’t the most athletic, his lifestyle of long hours on the road not really allowing for any sort of regular exercise routine, but he’s always been supportive of my pursuits. And despite maintaining college is a possibility regardless of whether or not I get a basketball scholarship, I know it will be a big relief to him if I do.

Coach’s talk ends and the guys scramble to stand, all eager to actually get out on the court. Today is sure to be a test, a rigorous workout to let us all know what is expected during the season. The most accurate shot in the world won’t matter if the other team maintains possession the whole game because you can’t keep pace.

“Adams. One minute.”