Free Throws

Free Throws From Chicken Soup for the Soul: Inside Basketball

If after a week of practice we are not better then the week has been wasted.
~Vince Lombardi

It all started off with five. It was slightly drizzling, and my dad had told me that I had to make five free throws in a row before I could go home. I was ten at the time and in disbelief. I couldn't believe he wanted me to make that incredible amount. I was also mad. I had spent two hours on those outdoor courts. I had to climb over a fence to get there in the first place; it was cold, and it was starting to rain. He was stubborn though. So I stood and shot until I indeed made five free throws in a row. After every practice, no matter how long it took, I made five free throws in a row. I even got up early in the morning at five A.M. just so I could shoot about one hundred free throws before the day started.

I remember the first time I made ten in a row. I was eleven and I ran around the gym yelling and whooping with joy. I thought it was the greatest thing in the world. Of course after that, I had to make twenty in a row after every practice. Pretty soon the number of free throws escalated from twenty to thirty to fifty, until I got to high school and I had to make seventy-five in a row before I could leave the gym.

One memorable afternoon, there was a hole in the ceiling of the gym I was at, and apparently there was a beehive on the roof. The floor was covered with bees and occasionally one would just start flying out of nowhere. I was on number seventy-three and a bee decided to fly into my ear right before the ball left my fingertips. I shrieked and grabbed my ear and completely missed the shot. My dad didn't even flinch. He just looked at me and said I had to start over. When I started to argue, he just looked at me and said “What are you going to do come game time?” I wanted to ask him, “Would there be many beehives in the stands?”, but I decided to hold my tongue. I gritted my teeth and fifteen minutes later I finally made seventy-five in a row.

Not only did I have to make seventy-five in a row, but I couldn't stop until I missed. I used to get mad when I reached my required amount and I missed the next one and my dad made me start over saying that I missed it on purpose. So in high school I would usually get to 120 before I stopped. My highest ever was 175. I never expected, as most young people tend to think, this would ever pay off. It was great that every time there was a technical foul the coach would always send me to take the free throw. But I figured if I just shot one hundred free throws that I would be well prepared. I didn't realize at the time that it was the pressure, the fear of missing the next shot, that I was actually training for, not as much as the actual shot. One game really proved my father's point.

My high school team was playing Royal High School in the Nike Tournament of Champions. We had played Royal High School a week earlier and had lost to them by twenty points, so this game was all about revenge. Royal had one girl on their team who was incredible. Her name was Kelly and she could score at will. To add insult to injury, whenever we were at the free throw line she would pull out a tube of Carmex and rub it on her lips. It was part taunt, part indignation towards the free throw shooter; as if she was so good it didn't matter if we made free throws, her team was still going to win.

With two minutes left in the game, my team was up by six and their coach ordered them to foul. Our coach, seeing this, immediately called a time out and drew out a brilliant game plan. Give the ball to me―every time. I was a little shocked. I wasn't a standout player. I was a role player. I did my job, got my ten points and called it a day. She was pretty much putting the game in my hands it seemed. Seeing my slightly shocked face my best friend and fellow teammate pulled me aside and told me I was the best free throw shooter on the team. I could do it. I said, “Okay, I guess.”

So, every time we had possession, my teammates gave me the ball and the other team fouled me. And every time I went to the free throw line and knocked down two free throws. I ended going ten-for-ten that game, all in the last two and a half minutes. The final score was 57-50 and we were victorious. And Kelly didn't get to pull out her Carmex.

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