Harsh lights shone in my eyes, sweat dripped down my brow, and the crowd sung and stamped their feet to the rhythm of Queen.

The captain of the enemy team stood across from me, close enough that I could smell her breath. She met my eyes and grinned, flashing her teeth. I could see how eager she was.

This was it. The culmination of all our efforts, our blood, our sweat, our tears. Everything we worked for led up to this one game.

All I had to do was win.

I could win the game to get the girl. That’s how it happened in all the movies, right? The protagonist proved that they’re worthy by saving the day at the last minute, then the girl swooned into their arms.

She was out there, watching me, cheering for me. Becky. My best friend. She believed in me, had supported me through every rough patch. She wanted me to win as badly as I did.

All I wanted was for Becky to look at me the same way I looked at her. But that would never happen. Becky was straight as an arrow. She had a boyfriend, and while that loser probably wasn’t the one, she was sure as any to achieve her apple pie dream of a successful husband, white picket fence, two kids and a dog.

No matter how good I was at basketball, there would never be a place for me by her side.

It hurt, knowing that. But I didn’t have any other choice but to accept it.

I could win the game to bring my parents together. In the past, I dreamed silly little fantasies like that one. Mom and Dad were both out there today, watching me. I’m sure they’re quite proud of their little girl. Both of them being able to make it was a minor miracle in and of itself.

But no matter how proud they were of me, no matter how far I climbed, no matter how good I was at ducking, dodging, dribbling, and shooting, nothing I could ever do would make the two of them love each other again.

Sometimes I wondered what it would be like if I could go back in time, and tell that sad little freshman who signed up for the team that her dreams would never come true.

I could win the game to secure my future. This was the big one. The state championship. We’ve crushed every other team in our path to make it this far. Winning here would open up scholarships, opportunities, a chance to make something of myself.

But was that really the right ladder to climb? Thousands and thousands of girls reach for these heights across the country. Only a few succeed. I’m good, but am I really the best? But more importantly, what’s waiting for me at the top? The WNBA? Please. I could spend years and years honing my skills to perfection, to enjoy maybe a decade of success at middling pay, only to retire with nothing else to fall back on. If I’m really lucky, I might end up on a Wheaties box.

I’m sure I’d be far better off if I focused on my education. I could get a degree in medicine, or law, or business. Hell, maybe even something STEM related, I’ve always loved computers.

I could win the game for the team.This wasn’t just about me. My teammates have been with me the entire time. I owed it to them to be the best I can be. Whatever I wanted for myself, they all had their own struggles to face.

The horn sounded, announcing the start of the game. The ball was thrown into the air and I leapt for it, fingers outstretched. The enemy captain mirrored my movements, fire burning in her eyes. This was her game too. What dreams did she have? Was I about to steal those all away?

My fingers connected first, and I slapped the ball towards my teammates. My feet hit the ground and I started running. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, and I felt myself smile.

I could win the game because I wanted to win.