The sounds from the backyard court were unmistakable. The bounce of the ball, the squeaking of sneakers, the swish of the net. The noises continued for a while, before a final whip of the nylon gave way to a whoop of triumph, followed by the sound of heavy breathing. Seth Curry stood on the court, ball held against his hip, looking cool and composed. He surveyed his defeated opposition, smirking.
“When are you gonna give it up?”, he asked his panting brother, who was leaning against the stanchion.
“One more,” replied Stephen Curry, wiping off his sweat-drenched face with his forearm.
Seth raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “If you insist”, he said as he checked the ball.
The sounds of basketball resumed. The previous game had not been close, ending 11-2 in the younger Curry’s favor. Seth started this contest in much the same way, scoring bucket after bucket as an increasingly frustrated Stephen could do little but watch, his scrawny frame no match for his brother’s more developed body.
“And that’s game,” Seth announced as the ball went through the net for the final time.
Stephen hadn’t even gotten to touch the ball. His lip trembled for a bit as he looked at his still-smirking younger sibling. He looked like he was going to say something, anything, to ease the sting of yet another lopsided defeat, but before anything could come out, he burst into tears. He ran into the house, overlarge t-shirt flapping behind him.
“SETH!”, an angry voice emanated from the back door, followed by their mother, Sonya. She strode over to where Seth was casually splashing jumpers, Stephen trailing alongside, clutching his mother’s hand. She looked at him sternly.
“Apologize to your brother. Now.”
Seth rolled his eyes and groaned as he ran to recover a rebound. “But I didn’t even do anyth…”
“NOW!”
“Fine!” Seth walked over to face his brother, who was still sniffling. He smiled.
“I’m sorry that I’m going to be better than you forever.” Smirking again, he flung the ball away into the grass, and walked passed the two accusers, back into the house.
Sonya looked affronted. “Seth! Come back here right this instant! Wait ’til Dell hears about this!” she shouted as she ran after him.
Stephen was now alone on the court. Wiping his reddened eyes, he went over and picked up the ball. He weighed in his hands. It didn’t seem as heavy as before.
“We’ll see about that,” he muttered to himself as he shot it from near halfcourt.