The Car Park- Creative Writing

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I arrive at the car park, late as I usually am. My friends are there
already, organised, prepared, ready. I, on the other hand, am not. The
thought of performing anything in front of a crowd always seemed to be
something that, how can I say it, levelled my conscience to that of a
small school child on his first day at school. The 30 minute car trip
to the venue however, was my chance to ensconce my childish fears, as
I listen to music.

To me, music is the gateway from one dimension to another. The journey
from the real world, to a world of your choice. For me, the world is
one where I can forget everything; the days events (yes, even the
embarrassment I endured when I slipped on the step going into the
dinner hall), what happened the other week, and most importantly, I
can eradicate the feeling of nervousness that has overcome my body.

We arrive on time, and ready for the game. Well everyone else is, but
I think I am maybe a little bit apprehensive of the coming event. I
step out of the car where some of the local people stare; it is as if
I am stepping onto the red carpet of an awards ceremony, which is
exactly what I don’t want it to feel like. Instead, I change the
picture in my head from an awards ceremony, to a scene where I am
arriving to a battlefield, prepared for war. With hopes that this will
construct some greater self belief, due to the importance of the
occasion. But it doesn’t work. Back to normal, I stroll towards the

The noise around me seems blurred; I can’t seem to concentrate on any
sounds. I watch the cars drive past but the sound is distorted. As I
approach the entrance, I see two young boys arguing over something,
something that is most likely meaningless. They appear to be shouting
at each other, but again my hearing can not specify what they are

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MLA Citation:
"The Car Park- Creative Writing." 25 Mar 2017

I ignore them and carry on walking past them and into the

“In here!” shouts one of my team-mates as he gestures towards the
changing rooms. I follow, and on the way I pass some of the opposing
team. They stand tall, as if they were the skyscrapers of New York
City, while I feel as if I am the pedestrian walking through the
street surrounded by the soaring buildings. They stop their
conversation and fix there eyes upon me. I look up and give a slight
nod and a smile as I quickly head off into the changing rooms. Phew.

I get into my kit. The captain is talking to us. Spurring us on and
attempting to install some “fighting spirit” into the team. Everyone
retorts with “Yeah!” and “Grrrr!” I just nod acquiescently. The time
comes; we must now enter the hall. As we do, the opposing supporters
all stop and stare. They begin to whisper among themselves. Their eyes
wander to and from each of our team. A girl and her two friends look
at me. They then seem to laugh with each other. I just ignore them and
try and focus on the game.

The whistle blows to warn us that there is one minute until the game
starts. We huddle and decide the final tactics for the game. I decide
to be the substitute for the first quarter along with two other
players on my side. The players take their positions and the whistle
blows to start the game.

Our centre jumps up and swipes the ball into the hands of our point
guard. The game has started. The opponents set up there defence as our
PG dribbles the ball up the court. He dishes the ball into our power
forward, who then assumes the triple threat position. He jab-steps to
one direction and amazingly fakes the defender as he runs the other
way towards the basket to score the first basket of the game. I
immediately clap the tremendous play, whilst looking at the shocked
expressions on the opposing supporters faces. That was brilliant. The
next couple of plays from our team all ended up with a basket; whilst
the opponent’s offensive tactics were nearly all being broken down by
our outstanding defence.

The first quarter ends 23-5 to our team. An excellent start. My fears
of playing seem to be being overpowered by the team’s performance. The
second quarter approaches and I agree to go on the court for the
second quarter. As I walk on the court, my hearing starts to distort
again. I hear the muffled sounds from around the court. I see the
crowd staring at me, the new player. The whistle blows. The ball flies
straight towards me. A scene from “The Matrix”? No. I swiftly snap out
of my stuporous behaviour and catch the ball. With every bounce of the
ball, my confidence and normality increases. I dribble to the edge of
the D and a pick is set on my defender and I quickly move out of his
reach. I stop and pull up to shoot a three-pointer. The ball is
released from my hand at an almost slow motion pace. The arc of the
ball seems to be accurate and the court seems to stop and stare at the
ball. Swoosh. The ball goes through the hoop without touching the rim.
Three points on the scoreboard. The team congratulate me on my shot as
I we back to defend.

The game continues in our favour, and we end up winning 103-24, a
great score.

I now begin to understand that all of the fear and anxiety I felt was
only in my mind. I have to believe in my self and not be doubtful of
my ability.

(Following week)

I arrive at the car park, late as I usually am. My friends are there
already, organised, prepared, ready. I am also prepared, and I have
brought my Mp3 player to help me get fired up for the game.

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