Hoop love
“Dang son I wish times like this would never end,” he thought in his head as he realized he was out way past his curfew. Saying goodbye to all of his friends, he sprinted through the park trying to get home as quick as possible.
He knew his mom was going to go off on him as soon as he got home, thinking of every excuse possible he ran through the door. Every reason why he could be an hour late for his curfew, and it’s not like it was the first time either every time he goes out he gets home later and later.
“Where were you,” she screamed with her chef’s hat on still looking at the dinner she was making.
“I just umm was,” his mind went blank as every excuse that he had thought of on his way home seemed to run away from him. She stopped looking at the food and began to give him a death look, finally after what seemed like an eternity he replied, “I just lost track of time.”
He waited until she looked away for a second then ran his hardest to get away before she could look back and say something.

“Wash up for dinner,” she screamed through the house
“OK mom.” He replied he never really washed his hands before he ate he just turned on the sink and did something else while the water was running. He didn’t want to waste his time washing his hands while he could be doing something else with his valuable time. They say time is money he didn’t want to waste his “money” washing his hands when he hadn’t done anything to make them dirty.
He grew up in a poor area in west Saint Louis called Pagedale, it was known as one of the worst areas in the city, but he didn’t know any better because he had never lived outside the city. He was excited because it was Thursday night, which means that tomorrow was Friday he could finally get out of the house.

His two best friends were a kid named Nigel and a boy named Markease. Nigel was an medium height kid that always had new stuff. He was one of those kids that’s family was extra broke but he always seemed to have new shoes clothes and had money to blow. Everybody wondered where he got his money from, there were rumors of him selling drugs and stealing but nobody really asked him about it.
Markease tall he was so tall he towered over everybody in the grade. They used to call him stretch because his arms were long and he was skinny as a twig as well. He was the good kid always did what he was told. He always was made fun of it too, because he always would follow exactly what the teacher wanted and would make the rest of the class look bad for doing it the wrong way.
Every weekend him and his friends Nigel and Markease would go play basketball all day at the YMCA. He didn’t even really like basketball but wanted to be cool with his friends so he acted like he was as passionate about the game as they were. He had grown up with them and he
had thought of them like his brothers.
It was their 7th grade year and they thought they knew
Everything in the world, they would walk down the block with swag like nobody could touch them. They thought they were invincible; nothing in this world could harm any of them in any way.
He got home that night and He went to right to sleep so excited about not having to go to school on Saturday and Sunday they weekend was a sacred thing and if you don’t use your time perfectly you are going to be mad all week long. He made sure he called Markease and Nigel just to verify the plans again.

They both replied, “We told you ten times already yes we are going up there tomorrow.”
All during his last class his eyes were locked onto the clock in the back of the room he stared at it as it seemed to move slower and slower. His stuff had been packed ready to go when there was still twenty minutes left.
Finally he heard the bell he leaped from his seat towards the door so excited for what the weekend had to bring. After school him, Nigel and Markease were planning on going through forest park for an open gym at the college that evening, they would usually head up there on the weekends.
He got home and grabbed his shoes and gym stuff and tried running right back out of the house.
He heard a loud, “Hello.” Coming from his mom’s room, he ran out of the house as to act like nobody was home and he didn’t hear what she had said.
Right when he got into the gym the sound of squeaking shoes and a ball bouncing of the hard floor came to your ears. It was extra loud and packed and stunk of gym clothes and funyuns. He heard everybody argue over anything that anybody in the gym had said. Everybody he knew or heard of from Saint Louis was here in this gym, he could tell it was going to be an extra fun night.
He laced up his old chucks, and got on the court with his team, usually he wasn’t very good but for some reason today was different he did his thing on the court he played the best he had ever played before in his life.
Somehow he could do all the things he had always watched all of his friends do over and over again. He could jump higher run faster and shoot the ball better than he had ever shot the ball before in his life. His friends were just as surprised as he was seeing how he usually wasn’t very good. It seemed as though for breakfast he had some sort of orange juice that made you a good Hooper. Or had just woke up and decided he was going to be a basketball player for the day.
They had ended up leaving the school, all he could think about that night is how he wanted to become better and better. He wanted to be the best, playing good that one night had changed his whole perspective on the game. The next day he left the house extra early and went to the park all day long.
He began to shoot everyday with his friends Nigel and Markease, they got really good together good enough they felt they could win some money off of people. They started getting in basketball tournaments for money and they were even winning some of them.
One weekend right after new year’s they were scheduled to compete in a 3 on 3 tournament and the winner ended up getting five thousand dollars. He and Nigel were at Nigel’s house waiting for Markease to come over.
They waited and they waited but he never showed up. They called his phone and called everybody that had known him asking where he was at but nobody knew. He was supposed to meet up with them by noon and it was nearly 4 o’clock. They couldn’t play in the tournament and were extra mad. Thinking about the money they could have won, and what they could have done with that money.


“I can’t believe he ditched us,” said Nigel while looking at the ground disappointed

“Something had to have come up, there’s no way he would just not show up, you know how his mom is always tripping he probably got in trouble for something dumb again.”

“Ya I guess”
When a loud ring shuttered through the house.
“That’s probably him now he said with an “I told you so” look on his face. He was gone for about 15 minutes. When he returned he was pale looked like he had seen a ghost, his eyes were red and tears were streaming down his face. He uttered through his trembling lips, “Markease is d-d-d-d-DEAD!”
“What there is no way I just saw him last night” he screamed in disbelieve, “how?”
“He was shot on his way home from the store.’
He was still crying but surprised he saw Nigel giving a look of disbelieve. His mom came to get him and he was wondering how he could go on, it was like his little brother dying all because somebody had a problem with him.

They say when a tragic event in your life happens you go through seven stages, but he skipped the first three right on to step four, depression. He didn’t wake up for school the next day he didn’t listen to anything his mom said.
He just lay in bed for days on end, he felt like he had nothing to live for anymore. He didn’t eat it took weeks for him to go back to school and he still cried anytime he saw anything that reminded him of his times with his best friend they had shared together. He felt as though it was somewhat his fault he should have been there with him to protect him. We shouldn’t have left him by himself.


He tried doing everything to take his mind of him from drugs to videogames. Finally one day in gym class they started playing basketball. All of a sudden all the memories of his hard work with his friend all the times when they were little were brought back into his mind. He visited the grave that night and He had decided to start playing again.
Suddenly it was more that something he did to pass time or for fun, he did it because it was all he had left of Markease. When he was on the court it felt to him as if he was there watching over him the whole time. The only time he felt close to his lost friend was when he was shooting the ball.
His friend Nigel had a different way of coping with his loss, he took the bad route and
began to change for the worse. He started being on the streets more, getting money in illegal ways. He dropped out of school for awhile and stayed home selling drugs. He joined a gang and was living the “hood dream”, while his friend had taken Markease’s death as motivation Nigel had used it a as a reason to give up.

He tried talking to him but the conversations always ended up awkwardly and never left anyone feeling better about the situation. He decided that Markease would have wanted him to keep working hard in basketball and not letting his hours in the gym go to waste. He still would dream about his friend every night the memories they shared and it seemed as if he was still with him in spirit.
He had a bad feeling about his friend though he hadn’t talked to Nigel in a minute and herd he was in trouble with some bad people. So he kind of expected it when he got the phone call saying Nigel was shot at a bus stop.
He turned on the news to seeing this:
Police on Tuesday say they have no suspects in the shooting death Monday night of a teenage boy in Pagedale.
Nigel D. Hightower, 15, was shot while walking near the intersection of Ferguson and Raymond avenues about 8:40 p.m. Monday. He lived nearby.
He was taken to St. Louis Children's Hospital, where he died.
Detectives with the St. Louis County Police Department are handling the investigation.
Police said Tuesday they won't reveal other details about the crime -- or release information about precisely where the teen lived -- until they have a suspect.
Police say they are chasing leads but had no suspects Tuesday morning.
He thought of all the times growing up together. Out of his old “crew” he was the only one left. He was the last one standing, Nigel was one of those kids that had all the potential in the world, one of the smartest kids he had ever known, But used his smarts not to get good grades or anything like that he used his smarts to get money and run the streets.
He tossed and turned in his bed just thinking about his friend. It seemed like his whole childhood played in his head. He felt defeated as if everything was over.
The next day he woke up to his mom asking, “Did you watch the news?”
“No mom.” He said in a saddened voice

“Well they found who shot Nigel.”

“What?” his ears perked up at this news.

“Yeah the kids name was Quincy.”

He couldn’t even respond he was too mad. What reason did he have to kill his friend; he shot him at a bus stop right down the street. What reason could you have to shoot somebody, what gives him the right to choose who lives and who dies, because he doesn’t like somebody they have to lose their lives?

He wanted revenge but couldn’t figure out a way to do it; the cops had arrested the kid that they had found had shot him. He wasn’t satisfied with that he took a life and all he has to do is sit in a jail. That wasn’t enough for him.

His funeral was coming up and he wanted write a speech to say at his funeral. He thought long and hard but couldn’t quite seem to put how he feels he looked online for quotes and tips on writing a speech for a funeral but still nothing came up. He had a bad writers block going on right now.

Until one day he thought of “Death won’t silence this lions roar.”
It sort of spoke to him, and made him realize what the funeral was, it wasn’t to be sad it was a sort of celebration for the one lost. That they are in a better place and to remember all the memories you had with this person.

He was no longer mad at the death of his friend he was more determined. To live out his life correctly to accomplish the most, he began to pray every night for Nigel’s family and visited his grave every day, it was right across the street from the high school, so it wasn’t to far of a journey.

He realized that basketball was the only thing that had always been there for him, it was his therapist his counselor, he could tell it everything and not worry about it judging him. So he felt it was his duty to repay the game with his dedication and working the hardest he had ever worked for anything in his entire life.

It was now the start of his last year in high school and he wanted to shine. He had gotten really good at basketball he even had a couple colleges visiting him wanting him to go to their school. He wrote on his shoes RIP Markease and RIP Nigel and the dates they passed away. Every time he was in a tough situation on the court or off the court he would just look at that and it felt as if they were with him at all times.

He dealt with so much adversity off of the court, when he got on the basketball court it was easy for him. He could deal with anything that happened on there. He had lost his two best friends; nothing on the basketball court could affect him in comparison to the stuff he had been through.
He kept working on his game and ended up going to university of Missouri at Saint Louis on a full ride scholarship for basketball. He wrote both Nigel’s and Markease’s name on his shoes so every time he is on the court he can remember his brothers and has motivation and someone looking over him at all times.
One day he was asked by one of his coach’s, “What got you into basketball in the first place?”
He replied, “I’ve really just always loved the game.”
“Any specific event you can recall?” he asked.
Thinking through the whole story in his head he decided to give a simpler answer and just replied, “Nope just always loved it, it was always with me.”