The Player

Tonight’s practice went well. He was probably the player with the most ball time at practice. No, there was no doubt, he had the ball more than any of his teammates today. Who cared if Coach said he was hogging the ball? He was excellent with the ball, he deserved it.

Shrugging to himself, he slipped in his earpiece and grabbed his bag, crossing the empty road even though the pedestrian light was red. He was the best. He deserved adulation. He was untouchable. He didn’t see the car with the broken headlights. But the thumping bass in his ears mirrored his heartbeat.

He didn’t deserve this, he thought. His mind was hazy with pain, legs bent at awkward angles. Today was supposed to be a good day.

The next time Jacob opened his eyes, he couldn’t feel anything. Especially his legs. His breath caught in his chest, too afraid to look anywhere but at the ceiling now.

“Mr Fong, you are awake,” the nurse smiled. “How are you feeling?”

“I can’t feel anything,” said Jacob. “I can’t feel my legs.” And tears prickled in his eyes. He remembered the accident and he remembered the sharp stabs of pain in his legs. Were they gone?

“Your legs are still here, Mr Fong.” Jacob was only slightly reassured. He still couldn’t feel them. “But your left femur is cracked, and your right ankle is shattered.” A sob caught in his throat. “Don’t worry, with proper rehabilitation, you’ll be walking again.” Tears wet his cheeks.

He was the star player. He was irreplaceable. He didn’t deserve this.

“I’ll get the doctor.”

Truthfully, Jacob was terrified. Basketball was the only thing he was good at and the only thing he wanted to be good at. If he couldn’t walk, how could he play? And he definitely couldn’t play with two broken legs. He was a sportsman, nothing less. And now, he was nothing.

The doctor came, and Jacob squeezed his eyes shut. This would only be more real if he opened them.

“I’m here to help, Mr Fong,” the doctor told him. “You will be fine if you take your rehabilitation seriously.”

Jacob opened his eyes then. Was that a solution? “Will I ever play basketball again?” He chanced a glance at the good doctor.

And nearly vomited at the sad look of sympathy on her face. “Not professionally, I’m afraid.” The doctor wrote on her clipboard. “I’m sorry, Mr Fong. Your right ankle is shattered and will take months to heal. Even then, the physical therapy for shattered bones is lifelong.”

Jacob crushed the despair in his chest and nodded. He would try anyway. If he couldn’t play basketball, he would go down trying. There was nothing else.

He spent the next six months bedridden; his muscles diminished from disuse. Nurses would come in and help him stretch, but he couldn’t start his therapy yet. The fragments of his bones were healing. The fragments of his aspirations were not. Aside from the stretching, all Jacob could do was wait, and wait, for his teammates or his coach, anyone, to visit him. His phone calls were ignored.

Eventually, the doctor approved his transition to physical therapy and Jacob did his best. His muscles had deteriorated so much that he had no strength to stand. At his first session, Jacob cried, his despair replaced by doubt. He pushed himself harder. The team needed him.

And finally, his coach came.

“Jacob, you look better.” Except that his coach barely looked at him.

Jacob swallowed around the lump in his throat. “What’s going to happen to the team?” he asked. How would they function without him? He had been away for almost half a year and qualifying rounds were coming soon.

“The team is fine.” Coach looked away. Away from what? He hadn’t even looked at Jacob since he arrived. Jacob stared. “How long did the doctors say you have to recovery?” Coach asked quietly.

“Six months of therapy to walk again on average.” It had been five. “I can do better, Coach! I’m already walking.” It was something, right? Jacob hadn’t stopped feeling like he was about to cry since he woke up in hospital. He was letting everyone down. His teammates needed him if they wanted to retain their position at the top of the Singapore Basketball League.

Coach opened his mouth. “Look, Jacob.” Did no one teach the Coach that people only began sentences like that when they had bad news? “You can’t play basketball anymore. I’m sorry.”

Jacob’s voice was a whisper. “What about the championships? The team?”

“We’ll just play without you, Jacob.” Coach was looking at him now. Only, his eyes were filled with pity. “The team is fine. This is why we have reserve players, Jacob.”

The nurses came rushing in, bringing sedatives and restraints. Coach left, and Jacob screamed until his voice broke and the chemicals made him dizzy.

Jacob chose not to watch the Qualifiers or any other matches. When he could hobble on crutches, he went to the indoor stadium; and sat by the outdoor public basketball court where teenagers played the game he couldn’t. For once, Jacob’s eyes were on the players instead of the ball. He mentally critiqued their technique, frowning at their joyful laughter even though their form was laughable. He didn’t notice the ball bounce off the court until it hit his shin with a soft thud.

The kid in the blue shirt called to him. “Hey, man! Can you kick it over?”

Jacob couldn’t. “I broke both of my legs,” he called back.

There was an awkward silence and the kid came over to retrieve the ball himself. “Sorry,” Blue shirt mutters and Jacob laughs. It is slightly bitter. Blue shirt looks at him in surprise and drops his jaw. “Holy shit,” he says.

“Yeah.” Jacob’s mouth twitches at the corners.

“You’re, like, my idol! A legend, man!” The other kids wander closer when Blue shirt plops himself on the bench beside Jacob.

“Thanks,” Jacob says. “But I don’t play anymore.” He gestures wryly at his legs.

The kids murmur in sympathy. Jacob is surprised. They don’t pity him. “Yeah,” he says lamely.

“Can you shoot a three-pointer?” the kid in the black shirt asks. Honestly, he probably could.

Jacob reaches for his crutches. They follow him to the edge of the semicircle. “Gimme the ball.” The kids cheer when it swishes through the netting.

“Awesome! Teach us!” And Jacob couldn’t say no. Why should he, when their enthusiasm was the first touch of true validation since the accident? He didn’t see his ex-teammates and coach walking into the tournament venue. Didn’t see them point and talk.

When the kids left, it was dusk, and today’s matches were all played out. He sat watching the empty court, startling when the bench shook as his ex-coach sat down.

“You were good with the kids,” he says.

“So, what?” Jacob replies.

The coach hums. “You could try coaching.” Today is full of surprises. “I’m not young anymore, Jacob.”

Jacob sighs. He remembers feeling irreplaceable and knows that eventually he will be replaced again. They stare at the empty court.

“I’ll do it.”

Please do not copy or repost without crediting or permission. This short story was written for a graded assignment. It has now been uploaded because the assignment is long over.