Part 3:

The game had been going on for hours it seemed like.  When would it end.  I had gone into the game four-five times now.  At half-time I shot around pretending I had a good jump shot.  I did a granny shot from the three-pointer line which looked more lame then anything else.  I though Gatorade was supposed to give you secret basketball powers.  Yeah right....

With five minutes to go I sat beside my teammates. The score board was pretty close, and I was praying Coach would forget I existed.  Where could I escape?  My dad was still cheering in a quite loud, respectful, manner.  I felt a tad ashamed that I hadn't gained a point for the team.  So far I had traveled, fouled, and missed.  Could it get any worse?  Why, yes.  Yes it could get worse.  

Two minutes.  "Doster!"  Oh dear.  He remembered my name.  I got up slowly questioning his motives.  "Are you sure coach," said my facial expression.  I went in and the game ended with us losing. Here's to next year!