Being the new kid on the block is never fun, unless you’re one of the Wahlbergs. I however am not. I am just Brandon Silvers. A 14 year old kid from Cincinnati, Ohio. My Mom passed away this summer from breast cancer, so I am now living with my Grandparents in Baltimore, Kentucky. Not a bad little town if you are into muddin’ and fishin’. I am interested in neither of those things.
One thing I do love though is basketball. I love everything about it. I love playing it. I love watching it. Hell, I even dream about it quite a bit. I was guaranteed a spot on the JV team back home, but now I will be lucky to make the Freshman team down here. Say what you want about Kentuckians, but these people LIVE AND BREATHE basketball. Ever wonder why Kentucky doesn’t have an NBA team? That’s because they have the UK Wildcats. Here in the Bluegrass state, UK basketball is larger than life. They also have the Louisville Cardinals, if you’re into that kind of thing.
So with that said, these kids are bred to hunt, fish, and shoot basketball. I definitely have my work cut out for me if I want to secure a spot on this team. According to my Grandpa and local media, the Baltimore Colonels have a pretty prestigious program. Ranked #2 in the state, behind the Hazard Navajos. Tryouts are a week away and I have been practicing every night for as long as I can. My Grandma usually has to call me in. I am my hardest critic. I put myself through hell when it comes to training. I am determined to make this team, no matter what.
Tryout day is here and I couldn’t be more nervous. Not that I am worried about how I will perform, but more about how I will be perceived by my teammates. School has been in session for about two months now, and I have yet to make a “friend.” I am naturally pretty quiet in most aspects of life, but I come out of my shell once I hit the hardwood. I was considered a leader on my teams in Ohio, but I had been playing with the same group of guys since grade school. I developed into that role over time. I earned the respect of those guys through hard work and effort on the court. These Baltimore guys don’t know me from Adam. We shall see how this goes.
Including myself, there were about 50 kids who showed up. The coach split us up into groups of 10 and had us run 5-on-5, full court. First team to 21 wins. My group was the third to play. I was pretty confident in my team. I hadn’t seen any of these kids play before, but we had a height advantage. This kid named Bo was in my grade and stood 6’9”. He would be playing center for us. We had a set of twins, Greg and Timmy Cole. Greg played the four spot and Timmy played point guard. I played shooting guard. The kid playing the third spot for us was named Alan Monroe. Funny thing about Alan is he looked so damn familiar. The whole time we were waiting to play, I would find myself looking at him as much as I could without being noticeable. I knew we had a couple of classes together, but the familiarity ran beyond that. I felt like I knew this kid from somewhere else. I just couldn’t quite put my finger on where.
Coach blew his whistle and called our group up. With our teams already decided, we were ready to ball. We won the jump and were on our way down the court. Timmy played point and brought the ball down court for us. For a short white kid, this guy had ball control abilities out of this world. He crossed over the opposing PG and lobbed up an alley oop to Bo for the dunk. Things were off to a great start and stayed that way. Alan and I hooked up for a few assists between the two of us. I scored 12 of our 23 points. I shot 2/2 from the 3, one of those being the game winning shot.
Coach seemed impressed with us. We as a team were thrilled with each other. We played a great game together. Tryouts came to a close, with Coach informing us that the rosters would be posted in locker room by the end of the week.
I was waiting outside for my Grandpa to pick me up when Alan approached me.
“Hey man, good shit out there today. You got seem to have a great feel for the game,” said Alan.
“Thanks man. Same goes for you. Your post game is pretty impressive.”
He smiled from the compliment.
“Thanks dude. I appreciate that.”
We stood in silence briefly, nodding at each other out of respect.
“Hey, so the guys and I were going to Shaker’s tonight to grab some food. Would you be down to join,” he asked.
Shaker’s was the local hang out spot for teenagers. It was a diner that served the best milkshakes and burgers around. The owner was also a huge supporter of Baltimore basketball.
“Sure man, sounds good,” I responded.
“Cool. So we will pick you up around 6 or so?”
“That works.”
We exchanged cell numbers. I texted him my address and we parted ways when my Grandpa arrived. I was so ecstatic. Things were finally starting to look up. Alan seemed cool as hell. I was looking forward to bonding with the guys that night. Especially since there was a chance we would be teammates soon.
Bo and Alan picked me up at 6:15 that evening. We went to Shaker’s as planned. The Cole twins met us there. Timmy also brought his girlfriend, so we made fun of him every chance we got. We landed a table by the window. I was the only one who needed to look at a menu. Bo took it upon himself to be the Shaker’s spokesperson, making recommendations left and right.
“So Brandon, what brings you to Baltimore,” asked Greg.
“My mom passed away back in June from breast cancer.”
There was a sympathetic silence.
“Damn man, that sucks,” said Alan, who was sitting to my right.
“Yeah, I miss her man. My Grandparents are pretty cool though. They have been super helpful through all this.”
“That’s what’s up man,” said Bo.
“Do you get to see your Dad at all,” asked Timmy.
“No. He passed away when I was 8.”
There was another sympathetic silence.
“My Dad passed away when I was 8 as well man,” said Alan.
“Oh yeah,” I replied.
“Yeah, I never knew him though. My Mom doesn’t talk about him much. I do have a picture of him holding me the day I was born, but that is it.”
“Yeah, mine was barely around either. He drove a truck, so we rarely saw him,” I said.
The conversation was put on hold as the waitress delivered our food. I settled on the BBQ Bacon Burger with a Chocolate shake. Alan had the same, except he opted for the Strawberry shake instead. The food definitely lived up to hype around town. We ate our food and left shortly after 9pm.
The following Wednesday came with a buzz surrounding it. Coach had announced on Tuesday that the rosters would be posted before the end of school Wednesday.He followed through on his promise. Alan and I decided to go look together at the end of the day. We arrived to a small crowd of guys eyeing the results. Some happy, some not. Once Alan and I made it to the front of the pack, we were pleased to see we both made the JV team. Not only did we make the lineup, we were listed as starters. Not bad for a couple of Freshman.
“Dude! Do you know what this means,” Alan asked.
“What’s that?”
“If we play well this year, our chance of making Varsity our sophomore years is hella strong.”
“Hell yeah man.”
“We need to start practicing ASAP. What are you doing tonight,” asked Alan.
“Well, I don’t have any homework, so I was just going to go home and practice on my game.”
“Perfect! You should just come to my house. You could join us for dinner.”
“Yeah, that should be fine. I just have to run it by my Grandparents first.”
“Sweet. Just text me and let me know what they say. If they say yes, I can talk my sister into picking you up. She thinks you're cute so it shouldn’t be hard to convince her.”
“Make sure she knows I think the same.”
We both chuckled.
My Grandmother was initially hesitant about letting me loose on a school night, but they ultimately decided it was fine. I texted Alan the news. He and his sister Clarissa were at my house in no time. We arrived to Alan’s shortly before 4pm. His Mom hadn’t got home from work yet. We went upstairs to change and get ready to hoop. Alan went to the bathroom first. I chilled in his room. He had some of the coolest posters I’d ever seen. Mostly sports icons such as Larry Bird, John Wall, DeMarcus Cousins, and Anthony Davis. Lots of UK Wildcats. As I am walking around his room, I noticed a picture on his dresser. It was of a man holding a baby, which I assumed to be a little Alan. I had seen the man in the picture before. In fact, I felt like I had seen the same picture before.
Alan walked into the room.
“The bathroom is all yours man,” said Alan.
“Hey Alan, are you the baby in this picture?”
“Yeah. That’s the picture I was telling you about with my Dad. It’s the only one I have.”
Chills rose up my back, causing the hairs on my neck to stand up as I weighed the possibilities in my mind.
“Alan...what was your Dad’s name?”
“James….why?”
I stood frozen in place. I felt like my eyes were playing tricks on me. How could it be that Alan’s Dad looked EXACTLY like my Dad and even had the same name.
“Your Dad’s last name was Monroe right,” I asked.
“No, I took my Mom’s last name. My Dad’s last name was….Silvers.”
We looked at each other in complete bewilderment.
“Alan...my Dad’s name was James Issac Silvers.”
“So was mine.”
We stood side by side, staring at the picture on his dresser. It all made sense now. No wonder he looked so familiar. I had been trying to figure it out since the day I met him. Now we knew the answer. He is a spitting image of our father.
Written By: Shawn Baker
