Zamaj Mahtani is a 16 year old kid living in the streets of New York. Violence raged throughout his neighborhood. He became so frustrated with the everyday terror so he turned to his only source of comfort. The basketball court. He was an exceptional player and led his team to the playoffs the past year. He had an exceptional jumpshot and could play pretty good defense when he puthis mind to it. The first day of school went pretty well for him as most of his friends were in his history class including his best friend Ice. His real name was Jon but everyone called him Ice cause he looked like the rapper Ice T. Zamaj had no family to speak of so he lived with Ice and his parents. Ice was supposedly better than him but they had not played one on one in a long time. Zamaj and Ice were talking about their history teacher Mr. Ridgeway and how incredibly boring his classes were when they saw a group of ballers surrounding Tony who was reading, mockingly, from a crumpled up letter. Tony could talk a mile a minute and simply didn’t know when to shut up. He was shouting recklessly, “They wanna play us 5 on 5,” Tony stated, holding the paper in disbelief, “I don’t know what they’re thinking. Never even heard of them.” Ice made his way through and read the details. Tomorrow at the Rucker. 5:00 pm. Ice crumpled it up and threw it away. “Piece of cake, no way we lose to these scrubs.” Dorrell, a 13 year old kid who followed Zamaj and Ice, looked unsure. “I dunno, you guys. They could win,” he said. Everyone was looking at him. He looked around nervously, “I think my mom’s calling me.” And he ran. Zamaj looked at Ice and both cracked up. Laughter all around. They practiced until 9 at night until Ice’s mom, Letoya, called. They said goodbye to the rest of the guys and walked home, joking the whole way home. Ice roared, “Did you see Jay’s face when I slammed it on his head! Priceless, dawg!” Zamaj was drinking and spit all his water out when Ice did a impersonation of poor Jay. Ice suddenly stopped. Zamaj kept walking then realized Ice was far behind him. He looked and inquired, “What?” Ice simply stared ahead. Zamaj followed his gaze and saw Alisha. She had light brown hazel eyes and a smile to die for, according to Ice. She waved anc started to walk over. Ice smiled like his life was on the line and stepped forward, confident and proud. She waved again and…walked right past Ice to hug Zamaj. “Zamaj, how was your first day?” She was beaming. Ice was looking back at Zamaj who was being hugged by Alisha – his girl – in shock. Zamaj ran a hand through his hair and replied, “It’s going good. Ice is in most of my classes.” She turned and saw Ice. Smiled. Looked away. They talked for a little more then Alisha had to go home. She said bye to both of them and walked away. Ice was looking back at her and she looked back and caught him. Smiled. And turned back around, heading home. Ice and Zamaj walked the rest of the way in silence. What Zamaj didn’t know, was that after tomorrow, things would never ever be the same.
yea it is. like i'm going to chronicle how this kid Zamaj gets a shot at basketball and goes to UCLA. then from there he goes to the NBA and i'll just desribe how it is there. like, his first all star game, his first playoff game, losing seasons, meeting Kobe, Wade, those guys. And i'll try to fix the structure of the story cause i know it was hard to read. what happens tomorrow is in the second chapter if i get more reviewers. if not, then idc.
Zamaj woke up around 9 and ran a hand through his hair. He lay in bed for five minutes wondering whether the team they play today is any good. He was in deep thought when Ice's mom yelled at the top of her lungs, "BREAKFAST!" Zamaj jumped a foot in the air and walked downstairs in his pajamas. He grudged toward the breakfast table and muttered something. Ice's mom turned around with her hands on her hips. "Boy, i work too hard for you to come up in this house muttering. Yous a grown man, speak up son!" Zamaj couldn't help but crack a smile. "Good morning, Mrs. Wilson." She turned around, flipping pancakes, "Mmhmm, now i need that everyday."
Suddenly, Ice came swooping down the stairs. Put his jacket on. His mom looked at him, "Where you going?" He winced, as if he didn't wanna get caught. "I'm going to go warm up at the court, for our game today." His mom tsked, "Basketball, basketball, basketball, when these boys will focus on school?" Zamaj was sitting at the table, thinking. Ice never ever left early to practice. He wasn't a fan of it. When they were kids and played at the YMCA, he always missed practice. He came to all the games, and in one, he knocked in a three to win the game. Finished with 17. Maybe he had...no, that can't be it. Ice would never deal. Never.
Zamaj knew him too well. "Zamaj. Zamaj! ZAMAJ!" The teenager jumped in shock. Mrs. Wilson pushed a tray toward him. "Your pancakes." Z smiled, ate them and went out. It was pretty nice fresh weather but as he got closer to the court, he felt anxious, nervous. These guys could be really good. With a sigh relief, he saw Ice pulling up for a fadeaway over Tony. He was practicing. Z shook his head and ran toward the court. High fived Ice and shot around. Then a black van approached. And out came the other team. They were very small which meant they were fast. Not good. The came number 4. His eyes were totally black and cold. He was left handed and was pretty tall. He looked like a man amongst boys. Then a ref stepped out. When Z finally took his eye off the other team and hoop he noticed that everyone was there.
The sidelines were filled with the neighborhood. Z shook it off and held his hand out for Ice. "Let's get it!" Ice replied, "Let's get this teabag!" Teabag was one of Ice's favorite words...great. They walked toward center court and shook hands with each of the players. When Z shook number 4's hand, he tightened his grip. "What the f-" "Hey, clean game, ok," the ref stated looking both ways, hands on the ball. He blew his whistle. Threw the ball up. Game time. Ice got the tip and brought it up court. Threw up his left fist and passed to Z. Got the pick on the elbow and rose up high. Z threw it up and Ice slammed it home. Way to make a first impression. On the other end, they moved the ball around and found number 4. Open 3. Money. Going the other way, Ice attacked the rim and kicked it out to Tony. Swish. 5-3.
The game went back and forth like this the entire time. With one minute left in the game and the score 44-41, Z's team had the ball. Ice brought it up, guarded by Ronnie, number 4. Ice called for the pick and attacked the basket. Got pushed by Ronnie. Ice got up and pushed him back. A punch. A brawl started. Ronnie pulled out a gun and there was a struggle for it. Ice yanked it away and yelled, "What the ****!" He threw the gun away and smashed Ronnie in his jaw. Ronnie swung and hit Tony. Chaos occurred. Zamaj was in the middle of it all, seeing a different side of Ice. When Ronnie knocked Ice down and was about to punch him again, Ice pulled out a gun of his own. Blasted Ronnie. And ran. Not home, who knows where he ran. Pretty soon, the police came. Ice was a felon, wanted for murder. Z broke down. It started raining and he thanked God so no one could see he was crying.
Zamaj woke up the next morning in the police station, on the bench. He looked around and saw two portly officers sipping coffee and whispering to each other. Zamaj stretched his arms and yawned. He had been interrogated by the police all last night and was exhausted. He rubbed his eyes and got up. One of the officers looked at him and smiled. Held his hand out. Zamaj shook the officer's hand and inquired, "Any news?" The other officer sighed and placed a manilla folder on the blue marble counter behind him. "No, Zamaj, we have been trying to locate other members of the teams, but, unfortunately, you're the only one we've found.
4 years later:
Zamaj, surrounded by reporters, announced that he was going to the NBA. He played one season at UCLA and was extremely talented. Zamaj also found Ice who went to Marquette. The two talked, but not nearly as much. Ice also announced his departure to the NBA a few days earlier. Time went by, and Zamaj was sitting all alone, waiting for his name to be called on draft night. Ice was sitting with all of his family hugging and holding him. Ice looked at Zamaj and winked. Zamaj suddenly felt a twinge of jealousy. He knew he was a better person than Ice yet Ice had a loving family. Where were his parents? How come he wasn't surrounded by family and Ice sitting all alone? He surely didn't deserve it. He snapped back to attention when David Stern came out of the room in the back. He adjusted his glasses and stated loudly, "With the first pick in the 2011 NBA Draft...the Detroit Pistons choose.....Jeffrey Jordan!" The son of the greatest player of all time stood up without any emotion, as if he expected such a thing to happen. The six foot one point guard made his way up to the stage and shook the Commissioner's hand. Picks went by until suddenly...With the 7th pick in the 2011 NBA Draft...the New Jersey Nets select...Zamaj Mahtani!" Z shot up like a cannon, tears running from his eyes, finally getting his wish. On his way up to the stage Zamaj caught Ice's eye. Ice just stared at Z and it seemed as if time slowed down for that split second. It passed and next thing you know, Zamaj Mahtani was in the NBA. Ice had been picked 16th by the Los Angeles Clippers. Zamaj was thrilled and couldn't wait for the season to begin. Seeing Kobe Bryant, even though he is 33 years old, going to the Rookie Challenge, the All Star Game, the playoffs...all of the NBA's features just overflowed him. But one of the greatest perks was behind him. The team's GM coughed and Zamaj turned around and saw two beautiful girls. "These girls will escort you to the training camp. Welcome to the NBA."