Page 36 of Loving the Legend
“Try it on the plane tomorrow. It works, man.”
I’m realizing there’s more to staying in top shape than I thought. Considering what I’ll need to put my body through each season, I need to step my game up.
“Thanks! I feel like I owe you.” His generosity is next level.
“Come on, that’s whack. You still haven’t accepted we’re friends then.”
It’s kind of true. I don’t trust easily. But even more, Sid’s damn near a legend. His friendship can’t be this easy.
“It’s all good. You’ll see.”
I meet his gaze. “I appreciate it…you know?”
He nods. “I know.”
I relax into the couch, leaning my head back. We fall into a companionable silence.
“Is the game still as fun for you as it was in the beginning?”
He opens his mouth to speak but then closes it again.
I quirk my eyebrows. “It isn’t?” Maybe he isn’t as giddy as Christmas Sid, but whenever a ball is in his hand, he looks damn near close.
“Here’s the thing. I’ve loved basketball for as long as I can remember. Besides being a fan of the game, it helps me mentally.”
I quirk my eyebrows, gesturing for him to continue.
“You know those games when you’re down a shit ton of points from missed shots, sloppy turnovers, and a weak defense? I mean, you spend everything in the bank and have zilch to show for it? And the only way to turn the tide is to reach deep. You tap into a force. Like you’re attempting plays you’ve never tried before. You’re way out there on the edge. And somehow, the shit works!”
I think back to a couple of games in college. That force…or energy is infectious. Suddenly, everyone’s fired up, and before we knew it, it was the final buzzer, and we went from getting blown out to being crowned the champ. It’s indescribable.
“Yeah…I see from that grin that you know exactly what I’m talking about. Those are the moments that make it all worth it. If your only goal is to make money and gain celebrity, you’ll find it difficult to play at a high level season after season. I’ve learned to be consistent in how I train, eat, sleep, and recover. It goes a long way toward keeping me locked in. And I don’t have a ring yet.”
“I can’t imagine tiring of chasing rings. All of that makes sense, but man, I hate being in front of the camera. How do you always look so comfortable in interviews?”
He laughs. “I’ve seen you in interviews. You do better than you think.”
I scoff. “I don’t know about that.”
“You’re smart to be wary of it, though. My advice is to always say less where the media is concerned. When asked provocative questions, I get off on giving the most boring answer I can think of. If you’re looking for a sensational clip, it ain’t coming from me.”
“Your advice to me when asked about the media’s comparison of us. Was that real?”
“Hell yeah.” His face turns serious. “You even have to ask?”
I shake my head. “I hate that they compare us. I mean, you’re one of the best in the league. I’m in my first year. Our style is completely different. Let us be us.”
“I get it, though,” he says, scratching his arm. “You bring something special to the league. Your explosive offensive power, tight handles, and ability to focus and get in the paint—is an unexpected combo from a rookie. They were just as excited when I joined.”
That makes me scoff. “The excitement over you joining the league was stratospheric. Let’s not pretend it was remotely close to the buzz I received.”
He shakes his head. “It was a circus, is what it was. That shit’s fake as fuck. You can’t let fame or flattery validate you or feed your self-esteem. I keep my circle tight, and it’s full of people who aren’t afraid to tell me the truth. Too many people will blow smoke up your ass to get something from you.” He straightens up. “Can I tell you something I haven’t really admitted out loud?”
I nod. “Of course.”
“I wish I stayed in college like you for a few more years. I think talent and hard work can make you a great athlete, but you need other skills if you want to be more than that. I was faced with a fuck ton of money that my family needed ASAP, so I did what I had to, but I enjoy learning, as corny as that sounds.”
“It’s not corny at all. I get it. I can’t front. I only stayed because I’d promised my parents that I would. They wanted me to get a degree. They stressed it all the time.” My parents may have been more excited about me graduating than going pro. “When they passed, I inherited enough dough to put me through college. I was always jealous of dudes like you who entered thedraft a year after college. I was fiending to go the one-and-done route.”
