Kentavious Caldwell-Pope stood at the free throw line, just as he had a million times before. “Remember your rhythm, Ken,” he thought to himself as the referee prepared to throw him the ball for his first attempt. “Your teammates are counting on you, and you know how Gunds gets when you miss!” Celtics and Pistons adorned the sides of the key, hands on knees, savoring this time of rest. He could see that Andre was already readying his high-five hand.
The ref bounced the ball to Kentavious and cleared the lane. He looked at the ball in his hands, preparing his routine. But this time was different. The ball was so round, so pleasing in its heft. How had he not noticed before. He shifted it around in his hands. How nice!
He thought about when the last time he had been with a woman was. “A damn long time”, he decided. He liked women, certainly, but hardly had the time these days. The basketball in his hands taunted him with its firmness, which, he deliriously thought, was not unlike the flesh of a female! It had really been quite a while since he had even kissed a lady…
He brought the ball up to his lips, hesitated, and planted his lips on the dimpled surface. “Oh damn, what am I doin’? How many dudes hands have been on that thing?” He thought as his cheeks grew hot. Feeling sudden shame, he quickly went through his motions and released the free throw.
Swish.