Chapter 27: 10-Day Contract
*Sound Effects*
**Language**
'Thoughts'
"Dialogue"
(Point of View)
With the tournament behind us, time seemed to fly as I had to shift my focus to finals. Graduation day arrived before I knew it, and the ceremony felt like it was dragging on forever. My mom scolded me for complaining, reminding me that I was graduating, but I couldn't help it. Finally, it was my turn to walk across the stage, and amidst the cheers, I accepted my diploma, took a picture, and made my way off the stage. The excitement of finishing high school filled me, but the prospect of traffic leaving the venue did not.
I did not apply for colleges as I decided to take a gap year to see what I wanted to do. I mean seriously I was just 19 how did they expect me to know what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I couldn't help but be sad knowing that I wouldn't get much chance at basketball. I'd rather be no a no named college as a starter than a water boy a more well known college.
*Chirp* I glanced over at the sound of my phone buzzing. I had opted for a decent Samsung phone with a number pad that slid out from the bottom for texting. I had deliberately avoided getting a Nokia, knowing the potential damage it could cause. The mere thought of it falling on my foot sent shivers down my spine.
I reached over to grab it, noticing my left hand that had recently had the stitches removed and had mostly healed, though there were still some scars that resembled streaks. I didn't mind; it would be a cool story to tell when I got older. I'll just say I fought a bear or something. Luckily my right hand was fine.
'Yo, guess what?' I read a message from Isaiah. I replied, 'Yea?'
'You're looking at the new starter for Duke!' he exclaimed.
'No way!' I replied.
'Yeah, I know. Their shooting guard graduated, so they had an opening,' he explained.
'Nice, man. You deserve it,' I congratulated him.
'Thanks, bro. Any luck?' he inquired about any offers I had received.
'Yeah, I got one I'm looking into,' I replied, though I wasn't counting that one odd incident. I just didn't want him to feel bad.
'NICE!' he replied enthusiastically.
'My bad, caps,' he corrected himself with a laugh, and I chuckled at his message.
After talking with Isaiah, I couldn't help but set my phone down and jump back on my bed starring at the ceiling. I looked at my phone and decided fuck it.
I got my phone and decided to call the number.
(3rd Person - R.C. Buford)
Buford's excitement was palpable as he continued to advocate for the young player. "I'm telling you, Pop, this kid is special!"
Coach Gregg Popovich raised an eyebrow, his piercing gaze fixed on Buford through his webcam. "RC, you're telling me he has no high school record whatsoever?"
Buford nodded, his enthusiasm undiminished. "That's right, Pop. But hear me out. This kid, Javier, even though he didn't play in high school, he led a team to the AAU finals and defeated a team full of 5-star and 4-star recruits. I mean, he carried his team to victory, despite all odds."
Coach Popovich leaned back in his chair, intrigued but still skeptical. "That's impressive and all, but it doesn't explain why he doesn't have any high school experience. And what about his hand?"
Buford leaned closer to the camera, his voice earnest. "Pop, you have to understand, this kid is as tough as nails. During that final game, his stitches from a recent injury reopened, but he got back on the court and put everything on the line. He ended the game with a buzzer-beater before heading to the hospital. It's a testament to his determination and grit."
Coach Popovich hesitated for a moment, even though he had a penchant for betting on the underdog, having been one himself when he started coaching. Yet, this particular situation felt like a significant stretch.
"I understand your hesitation," Buford said, "so I recorded this. These are the last few minutes of the game."
Coach Popovich nodded in comprehension and turned his attention to the recording on the camera. Despite the less-than-ideal video quality, it effectively conveyed the kid's toughness. It was a rare mentality to find, and it was precisely what Coach had been searching for over the years. Admittedly, he hadn't initially warmed up to Tony Parker because of his lack of aggressiveness, but perhaps this young player could fill the void that their team had been missing.
Still, Coach Popovich needed to confirm if the young player was good enough. The best way to do that would be through a 10-day contract, which was pushing the limits. However, the owner had placed his unwavering trust in Coach Popovich, and he hoped that this young player could prove himself.
Coach Popovich stroked his chin in thought, considering Buford's words carefully. "Alright, RC. I'll trust your judgment on this one. Set up a meeting with the kid. I want to see for myself what makes him so special."
Buford couldn't hide his grin as he replied, "You won't be disappointed, Pop. This kid has the heart and drive that could make him a valuable asset to the team."
Buford made his way outside the office just as his phone rang.
"Hello?" he said questioningly. He listened for a moment before a smile graced his face.
(1st Person - Javi)
I arrived at the Spurs facility alongside Coach Will still skeptical about if this was for real or some cruel joke.
Upon entering the facility, security screened me, seemingly expecting my arrival. Buford came rushing over and guided me to the office. My heart started racing as I realized, 'Holy shit, he wasn't lying.' Coach remained seated in the waiting area while I followed Buford inside.
Inside the office, I saw the legendary Coach Pop, known for his tough-as-nails personality stemming from his time in the Air Force. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves before taking a seat.
He looked at me with a gaze that seemed to pierce through me, with his hands interlocked.
"Shouldn't I have an adult with me?" I asked nervously, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the situation.
Coach Pop raised an eyebrow and calmly responded, "You're 19, right?" I nodded in confirmation, and he continued, "Well, then, you're an adult."
He leaned forward in his chair and inquired, "Now, let's talk about why you don't have any high school records. It's highly unusual for a player with your potential not to have any high school stats or achievements."
I hesitated for a moment, considering how to explain the situation. "Coach," I began, "I didn't play in high school due to some... issues with the school."
Coach Pop looked intrigued, prompting me to continue. "There was a lot of corruption at the school I attended," I explained. "They were more concerned with money than the actual players," I explained.
He nodded slowly, seeming to understand my perspective. "I see. But I'm also concerned about your hand," he said, eyeing the scars. "Are you a violent person?"
I shook my head vigorously. "No, Coach, I'm not. It's just... I had a pair of basketball shoes that meant everything to me. My coach, Coach Will, gave them to me, and it was the first time anyone had ever done something like that for me." I paused, my voice quivering with emotion. "Then, some guys at school—Trevor and his friends—plotted against me. They threw my shoes in the toilet, and I just... I lost it. I'm not proud of it, but those shoes were more than just material possessions to me."
Coach Pop regarded me with a contemplative expression, absorbing my story.
Coach Pop raised an eyebrow and asked, "Why did you decide to play that final game even though you were injured?"
I took a deep breath and replied, "The game was one-sided going into the second half, but my teammates gave their everything to reduce the lead. I watched as the last play of the third quarter unfolded. Dylan, my teammate who had been playing in my place, got an important steal with a few seconds left. He made his way for a layup, but the opposing point guard fouled him hard and injured him." I paused for a moment, collecting my thoughts before continuing, "He needed to go to the hospital, and I didn't want his and our team's hard work to be for nothing. I convinced Coach Will to let me in, and I got put in. My hands wouldn't be scarred if their point guard didn't continue to play dirty and hit my hands on purpose. Even at the last second, he hit it so hard that it split the stitches on my left hand, and that's why it ended up scarring."
Coach Pop listened intently to my explanation, and for a moment, the silence in his office felt deafening. Then, he reached into his desk and pulled out a piece of paper. On it was written "10 Day Contract."
He looked at me and said, "I'll give you a chance, Javier. We'll start with a 10-day contract to see how you perform in training. If you show promise and determination, we'll consider a longer-term arrangement."
I was shocked, but Coach Pop motioned for me to take a closer look at the contract. As I read it, the terms became clear:
The San Antonio Spurs offered me a 10-day contract as a guard.
* I would join the team for a trial period, during which I would participate in all training sessions and practices.
* My performance would be evaluated by the coaching staff and management.
* After the 10-day period, the team would decide whether to offer a longer contract or release me.
I couldn't believe my eyes. This was a dream come true, a chance to prove myself on the highest stage. Coach Pop's voice brought me back to reality as he said, Coach Pop's gruff voice cut through the moment as he said, "Don't think this is a free ride." he stated bluntly.
I nodded earnestly and then delved further into the details of the 10-day contract. I nearly fell out my chair when I saw I'd be receiving $62,000 upon signing the contract. I asked Coach Pop about how I'd receive the payment because I didn't have any sort of bank. He informed me he'd get in touch with somebody to help me set it up after signing it.
I read the rest before signing and gave my heartfelt gratitude for giving me a chance. Pop just waved me off and said that they'd reach out about when I'd start.
After exiting the room I heard weird *Ding* sound, I looked around but didn't notice anything and just assumed it was something from the building. I followed Pop's instruction and waited before a man in a suit came and helped me set up a banking account that was tied to spurs before giving me a temporary card until I got a permanent card. He informed me that I'd receive the money after the contract period ends.
I made my way out to Coach Will and looked down trying to make him think it didn't end well.
"It's alright, Javi—" he started, but I cut him off with excitement.
"You're damn right! I just got a 10-day contract!" I exclaimed, and he was surprised before giving me a hug and offering his congratulations.
I made my way home and thanked Coach before rushing inside. I was so excited and couldn't wait for my mom to get back home so I could share the news with her.
Later that evening, when she came home from work, I shared the good news with her. She hugged me tightly, tears of joy streaming down her face, expressing how proud she was of me. When I told my brothers, they didn't believe me, but I understood because it was quite an unbelievable turn of events, even for myself.
As I lay down that night, staring at the ceiling, I couldn't help but smile while tears welled up in my eyes. I knew I had to give my all to have a shot at making it. While lying there, I extended my left hand to examine the scars.
Suddenly, I heard the same notification sound that had echoed in the Spurs' office. I jolted as I saw an ethereal, purple window materialize in front of me, displaying the message:
[Would you like to accept the Starter Pack?]
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A/N: AND SO IT BEGINS! I hope you've been enjoying the novel so far. I want to make it clear that the main character won't receive everything easily through a predictable system. Instead, most achievements will require hard work, determination, and overcoming challenges.
For those who might find it a bit unbelievable that the main character secured a 10-day contract, I made every effort to highlight the sheer absurdity of the situation. However, it's worth noting that Coach Popovich himself had been an underdog, and his initial reservations about Tony Parker due to him lacking aggression on the court. Additionally, it's essential to remember that this is a sports novel, and while I strive for authenticity, not everything can mirror real-life situations precisely. Nonetheless, my aim is to keep the story as grounded in reality as possible to maintain reader immersion..
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