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  • Sentenced to the bleachers
  • Don't just sit there like a punk
  • Hey kid, why you still coming here?
  • Why don't you go back to the barrio, esé.
  • What are you deaf, kid? I said leave!
  • Nobody thinks you're good enough to play here, comprende? 
  • who me?
  • What you did this summer
  • "Can you describe one thing you did this summer. And one thing you learned. You have fifteen minutes. GO!"
  • Mr. howe Ninth grade English
  • The first day you wont get into a single game. When it comes to squads you'll find yourself on the outside looking in. You ask an overweight knee-braced dude if you can join his squad, but he trades you out for a balding big man. At first this basketball blackballing will tear you up inside, you know you can hang in there.
  • You finally get put in a game. Now your focus has shifted from wanting to play, to breaking down their various skill sets. There's one guy in particular you'll study. Dante. He's the only person in the gym who's never said a word to you. After burying one particular game winner from the wing, two guys draped all over him, he'll turn to you suddenly and bark, you freeze from shock. 
  • You moan with everyone else, but once you start writing, the summer will come pouring out. You'll write about sleeping in the VW Bug and the cop knocking on the window and all the vendors you passed on the long walk and the way the old gym wals actually creaked on especially hot days and how the second half of the summer you got in all the games and the guys started calling you Mexican Buckets and fighting over who had to guard you.
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