I added an extra wiggle to my shoulder shimmy and flexed my biceps as I back peddled back down the court staring down the Hayes defender with a menacing look.
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Gouts of blood flowed from the racist’s skin-shaven head as he dropped the bat to clutch his cranium.
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My nostrils got a whiff of the aroma of opportunity, and I knew that I had to follow the nose of my curiosity to find the right folks to engage with.
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I wanted every damn rebound. I wanted every freakin’ loose ball. I wanted to squeeze every pebble on the basketball’s leather skin.
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