My name is Regina.  I'm a senior, enrolled at Central High School.  Right now, there are some good and some bad things going on in my life.  Let's start with the good stuff and then the bad stuff.

Before I ever got into high school, I was a model.  I went to an interview with an agency and they liked the way that I looked, so I got some training and then I got this photo shoot with a local department store.  The clothes that I modeled were a big success that season and I got some more photo shoots.  I had my own model portfolio and stuff.  I found out, from the modeling agency, that I had a really pretty face, a good figure, photographed well, I looked good in the junior miss clothes and I would become one of their top models later on.  My future was so bright!  Then, I developed this problem with the top of my head.  It was suddenly bye, bye modeling career.

I graduated from middle school and I went to high school and I made a big mistake early on in my high school career.  What I did was to get almost straight A grades.  I also got top scores on the standardized tests.  Actually, there are a lot of boys who like very intelligent girls.  Unfortunately I don't know on which planet those boys are located.  It was suddenly bye, bye Homecoming Queen.

I did get along okay with the other girls and someone talked me into going out for the girl's volleyball team.  I not only made the team, hey, I became a star!  I was really good at volleyball and so was our team.  Unfortunately, one reason the team was so good was that the coach had hired (yes, I said hired) one of our star players.  The league found out and not only did we have to forfeit all of our games that year, the league wouldn't let us play for a whole year, next year, my senior year.  It was suddenly bye, bye sports star.

Okay, I worked the summer before my senior year in my Daddy's office.  My Daddy is a stock broker.  I learned a lot about the stock broker thing through the summer, but I don't really want to be a stock broker.  Also, there's a guy named Dean, who works at my daddy's office.  He calls me, 'Long Tall Sally' and I don't need that at all.  I also don't need Dean's hands 'accidentally' brushing certain parts of my body.  Bye, bye Regina the stock star.

I start my senior year of high school and, since I'm no longer a volleyball player, I decide to be a reporter for the Centurion, the school paper.  Because I was on the girls volleyball team before, I do mostly sports reporting.  I don't like the attitude of the guys on the sports teams (called the Centurions), but I stick with the reporter thing, because it's another extracurricular activity and I want to go to a local, very exclusive college.  I have the grades to get in to the college, but I also need extracurricular activities to spiff up my college application.

I probably would have quit the reporter job, but we have a championship girl's soccer team and several of the girls are either from other countries or are first generation born here in the USA.  I learn a lot about how girls live in other countries and about the changes that they have to adapt to, once they get to this country.

The local community paper decides to run feature sports section stories about the girls of the soccer team, on Mondays.  So, I get my byline in the local paper.  Having my byline in the local paper is another very good thing for my standing with the local college admissions department.

It gets to be basketball season and I get to do stories about the girls who play on our Lady Centurions basketball team.  My problem with the top of my head isn't too big a problem for the basketball girls and we get along very well.  In fact, they want me to try out for the team.  Unfortunately, I have never played basketball before and I don't want to start learning about basketball in the middle of my senior year.

I also have to do stories about the boys who play on our Centurions basketball team.  My problem with the top of my head isn't too big a problem for the basketball boys and they indicate to me that they just might be willing to take me out, providing that I'm willing to do what I'm not willing to do.  There are some rather nasty verbal exchanges with the boys and I'm just about to give up on the reporter thing.

Chapter 2: The White Whale

The tall guy sits across from me and I like what I see.  I don't much like what he has to say, but I gotta have the guy.

The guy lectures me, “I'm seven feet one inch tall.  I'm a white guy and I'm not all that agile.  However, you know how a big forward will just back a defender into the spot where the forward wants to be?  Nobody backs me into anywhere I don't wanna go.  I'm not afraid to take the charge.  In fact, you're gonna find that the other team is afraid to make the charge.  When I set a screen, nobody gets past me.”

I tell the guy, “So far so good.  What about rebounding?”

“I know how to position myself.  I can't jump all that much, but I'll get a lot more rebounds than the other guys.  I also weigh 280 pounds and when I block out, I block out.  If I don't get the rebound, neither will their center.”

I ask the big guy, “So far so good.  What about running the court?”

“I can fill a lane in a fast break.  I'm not the fastest guy in the world, but I'll be there at the end.  Some guy will move in front of me, so that I can't get my big body in close to the basket to get a possible rebound.  However, that will happen just once.”

I ask him, “How about passing?”

“I have good vision and good reactions.  When the other guys double team me, I'll feed the guy cutting for the basket.  You'll like my assists total.  So will the other guys on the team.”

I ask him, “So far, so good, how about shooting?”

“I have limited range, but I'm very effective from in close.  I have a good sky hook and they gotta double me or I score a bunch of points.”

I tell the guy, “Sounds good so far.  However, they tell me that you're a problem.”

“I'll get along with your guys.  When they see how I dish out assists, I'll be very popular.  When they get my quick outlet pass and head for the other basket, their only problem gonna be loneliness.  However, I don't go to school classes, no classes at all.”

I stare at the big guy and ask him, “What do you intend to do, once you get out of school?”

“They require Spanish language classes here.  Do you think I can get a decent job with high school Spanish?  They require a Senior Problems class.  Do you think I can get a decent job with high school Senior Problems?  They require an English class here.  Do you think I can get a decent job with high school English, especially since I never once passed a high school English assignment?  I go to class, they want me to do double work or more.  I don't have the time to do double work.  I come here, I play some basketball, a lot of basketball, however, no school classes.”

I lecture the guy, “You might think about this.  There are a lot of colleges that are looking for a guy your size.  However, if you get injured, they lose interest real fast.”

“Well I know the drill.  However, all I need to worry about right now is getting out of high school.  Yes or no?”

I sigh and tell the big guy, “I'm your teacher for all your classes.  I don't take roll, except for Varsity Basketball.  I never flunk anybody who shows up for practice and plays hard.”

“Coach, you're my kinda guy!  Where do I sign up?”

I walk the kid over to Admissions.  I stand over them while they assign him to my non-classes.  I really wish that I could somehow convince the kid to go to school and build a future, but I need a center for my basketball team, in the worst way.

We then go back to the gym.  It's time for the start of practice.  I introduce the kid to the rest of the players.  “Guys, this is our new center.  He walks, he talks, he passes.  You need a screen, you got a screen.  You gonna watch them double him inside.  What happens when they double him?”  I point to one of the players.

“Silk Jackson, small forward.  When they doubles you, just get the ball out to ol' Silk and he show 'em what happen when they leave ol' Silk alone.”

The big kid says, “We gonna work well together, Silk.  I can pass and I gonna dish out a lot of assists.  When you get in a fight, you don't need to look around for me, I'll be right by your side.”

“Reggie Wilson, shooting guard.  If they sag my man off on you, I knows what to do with the ball.  They double me, you just ease back into the basket, I also knows how to do assists.  As to a fight, well I aint been in no fight since yesterday, but I aint forgot how.”

The big kid says, “I like to dish assists.  They look good on my record and it sooner or later frees me up for a sky hook.  When you see the ball come off the glass in my direction, get moving and look for the outlet pass.”

“Warren Jones, point guard.  They call me 'Quick.'  Keep alert, because you're likely to see the ball at any time.”

The big kid says, “You get the outlet pass and head for the basket, I may not be right there, but not too far behind.  Lay the ball off, you get yourself an assist and the next time they don't dare double you.”

“Luke Morrow, power forward.  You get the rebounds in the center and your side.  I'll get the rest.  I don't know about fighting, because nobody want to fight ol' Luke.  I got a motto, 'No autopsy, no foul.'  They wants to rough it, ol' Luke likes to rough it.”

The big kid says, “You most likely play the kinda defense I like to hear.  I use these quite a bit.  They call me 'Hammers.'  I shove somebody in your direction, just send him back for a second helping of pain.”

(When he says, 'these,' the big kid points to his forearms.  Double team or no, it looks like it aint gonna get too crowded under the baskets.)