Basketball nation

With nothing else to do, I walk out of my room and head towards the lobby. I look around, and notice a crowd gathering in the TV area, their eyes glued on the match that would decide the fate of the basketball world for this year. The match is between Miami and Dallas.

Their faces look expectant, some worried, and still some look like they couldn’t care less. After a few minutes of standing up, I finally find an empty seat in the first row. Ah, finally—comfort.

The screen shows Wade getting another shot after being fouled; Nowitzki who’s furious at committing the foul; O’Neal who sits at a corner, wondering when he’ll be called back to the game; and a whole lot of players whose names are as foreign to me as the latest showbiz personalities. I have no idea what’s going on, and what will happen, except of course that in basketball, the most important thing to do is to get that ball shot, no matter what happens. If you can shoot it with grace, the better.

In frequent time intervals, I hear cheers and jeers from the people around me. I do live in a nation where people who can dribble, shoot, jump, and breathe basketball.

The game ends with Miami getting the crown. Too bad. All along, I thought Dallas would win. But there’s always another chance, they should know that.

For the fifth time in my life, I’ve actually enjoyed watching an NBA game. I leave the crowd, eat my lunch, and go to sleep.

TAGGED AS: nba