Jeremy’s father looked up from his desk, “I’m sorry, Jeremy.  I’m drowning in new contracts right now; look at this cluttered office.  Brian’s father will take you.  I’ll try to get there later.” 

         Returning to his work, his dad added, “I’ll be at your football games this fall, son.  After all, that’s the sport you’re built for.”

         Jeremy sighed as he pulled on his blue Lightening team jersey.  He often heard his Dad say that he was built for football.  He wished that his Dad would come to at least one basketball game; he might change his mind.  Every night, Jeremy added an extra prayer to ask that his Dad might come to a game.

         While tying his basketball shoes, Jeremy thought:  It’s always been just Dad and me.  Dad set up his business at home so he could look after me.  I’m grateful, and I want him to be proud of me.  Maybe Dad would have time for my basketball games if I helped in the office.  I don’t know much about his work, though; how could I help?   Umm, I could clean up the clutter.

         Jeremy snapped his fingers and announced to himself, “I know, I’ll make up a contract.”

         The minute Jeremy got into the car; Brian started chattering.  

         “Jeremy, do you think we’ll play basketball on the moon someday?  Just imagine we’d “bunny hop” up and down the court like astronauts.  I read that, ‘cause we’d be weightless, we’d be able to jump over the backboard and drop the ball down into the basket.  Picture that.”

         Jeremy nodded, “Playing basketball on the moon would be amazing.  But I’ll be lucky if I get to play basketball anywhere.  Dad wants me to play football.”

         Brian frowned; “Me, I’d rather watch dead grass or clean the kitty litter box than play football.  I don’t want to be tackled, trampled, horse-collared, squashed, busted or broken.”

         “Besides, basketball’s friendlier,” Jeremy added.  “Right off the bat it’s non-contact.”

         Brian shrugged; “Nobody expects me to play football.  I guess I’m lucky to be a shrimp.”

         “Chihuahua’s more like it,” Jeremy quipped.

         Jeremy picked up a basketball.  Holding the ball over his head, he focused on the rim.  Swoosh.  The ball sailed cleanly through the red rimmed hoop.  Jeremy practiced the shot until the buzzer sounded to start the game.

         Ten boys swarmed up and down the court, a cluster of energy around a tan leather ball.  Twenty high-tech basketball shoes squeaked across the varnished wood floor.  The air carried whiffs of old leather and new sweat.

         With two minutes remaining in the game, the score was tied at 24 - 24.  The other team took a shot.  The basketball rumbled off the backboard, rattled off the rim and ricocheted toward Jeremy.  He muscled control of the rebound and held the ball tightly with both hands.  Jeremy lobbed the ball over the crowd of players.  It dropped into the hands of speedy Brian. 

         Brian zipped down the court and shot.  He missed, but recovered the rebound and looked for an open teammate. 

         Jeremy hustled to catch up.  Waving his arms above his head, he shouted “Here.” 

         Swoosh.

         “Buzzzzz” signaled the end of the game. 

         The Lightning cheered.

         Brian signaled two thumbs up; “Great shot, Jeremy”.

         Jeremy smiled and shrugged; “Just lucky”.

         Still, he wished his father had seen the game.

         Jeremy heard a familiar voice, “Exciting game, son, you really seem to enjoy basketball; and you’re pretty good at it, too.”

         “Dad, you came to the game!  Did you see that last basket?”

         “You mean your ace, the game winner?  I sure did.  Say, what would you think of going to basketball camp instead of football camp this summer?”

         “That’d be awesome, Dad.  I love basketball.”