It stared at me as I stared back. 00:01:00. The red LED numbers seemed to pierce my skin, like all I had was one minute to live. To illude composure, I fixed my visage to be calm and content. We were down by one, the ball was in my possession. I looked down the court hoping to find someone posting up near the boards. But there was no one open, just players struggling for position with all eyes on me, anticipating my next move.

These were the situations that I lived for. The kinds that either made or broke you, the moments that you'd lye in bed wondering what you could've or should have done. The game was my escape and the motions enthralled me, empowering me with skill and knowledge in just five seconds of play. The opposing team would make mistakes and, instead of beating themselves up about it, they'd take it out on you with all of their abuse and disgruntled faces. In reality we were all the same, fighting for a chance to be more than what we were, and basketball just happened to be our opportunity to do so. We were all against the same odds and shared the same love for the game and pursuit to be the best.

I bounced the ball against my palms; it was like my life and I had to decide on one of two choices: pass it on or go in for the shot. My fingers hesitantly took control. 00:00:10. I drove into the lane and firmly released the ball into the air towards the basket. Onlookers rose and gazed while it soared. I fearfully held my breath. It was so vulnerable and fragile. Should I have just passed it on? Though weary, I lingered onto the dwindling seconds, awaiting my moment of glory. 00:00:00. The crowd cheered.