Avoiding being a bipolar writer

1 Jan 2013

(Based on prompt from “14 Prompts” ebook by Joe Bunting. He's also the keeper of a fabulous site called thewritepractice.com; you can get the ebook there. Prompt is based on avoiding being a bipolar writer. I chose tactic of writing by hand for 30 minutes. Original version is typed up below and now legible.)

State finals, Biggest game yet for our team. Largest crowd, too. We’re not used to getting much interest beyond the usual fans and families. It’s been growing, though, especially after we won the first tournament round and it seemed we had a chance to go all the way.

That sectional game, though, we barely squeaked it out. When it went into overtime I just didn’t know if we could keep up the energy. It was strange, though. Once we started playing in OT and kept the score about even, my fatigue dropped away and I could focus on just that part of the game. Seemed the rest of the guys felt the same way, a shared bond that we could win if we kept our heads and kept up the pressure. Also seemed the other team sensed our grit, and the OT period steadily shifted our way. I knew we were staying ahead, but a win wasn’t certain and I couldn’t let up. The final buzzer was more like an alarm clock. The joy of winning was huge.

This is the state finals, though. All eyes are on this game, not just one of several games. I don’t like all that scrutiny. I just want to play hard and well. This feels almost like my first varsity game, with all the nerves and uncertainty. Coach was great then, before the first game. He told me that I had the basic skills or else I wouldn’t be on the team. I’d learn something new each game, so I should just play as well as I could that game, then do the same in the next one with my increased skill. That advice has served me well these last few seasons.

That’s what I’m going to do this time also. It’s just another game. The outcome isn’t life or death. Our team has what it takes to win, or we wouldn’t be here. All I can do about the outcome is just play my best. It’s like that game mid-season where I hit two freethrows to win the game. They were trying so hard to distract and intimidate me, yet somehow I blocked it out for those few seconds and sunk both of them. They were just freethrows in that moment, and I had shot hundreds before.

That’s how it is for this game, too. We know how to do this, and we can’t let the “bigness” of the game be a distraction. If we play hard and lose, life will go on. I’m not expecting that to happen, but it could. Several of us have some rituals we do before each game, a certain order of suiting up, warming up, taking care of those last-minute things. I’m going to do exactly that stuff this time also, no more or less.

I’m not the most vocal guy on the team, not the captain or anything. Some of the others do seem to watch what I do, though. Maybe this time they’ll see my methodical prop as usual and keep their nerves in check. Not that I don’t have a case of the nerves. Far from it. I’ve never played in front of this many people. Yet it’s still only a basketball game, and I’ll only make things worse for the team by getting rattled. Jim was an inspiration to me my first year on the varsity squad. He didn’t say that much but was always squared away. He always got the job done, too, no matter how much pressure. That’s going to be me tonight: a workmanlike player getting it done. If we all are that way and keep unrelenting pressure on the other guys, we might just be state champions tomorrow.