Coby White had the sensation that he was lying on his back. His voluminous hair acted as a pillow, protecting the back of his head from the hard surface he was lying on. But the real question was, if he was just waking up from sleep, why wasn’t he in a bed?
He opened his eyes and was immediately very confused by what he saw. Above him were bright clouds, silver in color, lit up by a golden light that filled the whole place. Below him was a smooth marble floor that should have been cold against his naked body, but was warmed by that same golden light.
Wait. Naked? What happened to his clothes? Strangely, his feeling of confusion at being in such an odd situation was dampened by a calm serenity which he had no reason to be feeling. He got to his feet and looked around him some more. He had been transported to some kind grand hall that, judging by the empty light-filled void outside the windows, was not located on planet Earth. Or anywhere near it, really. In fact, chances were very good that he had woken up from a dream only to be placed into another dream, albeit a very realistic one.
The hall went on seemingly endlessly in both directions, so Coby picked a random direction and started walking. He noticed, not unhappily, that his serene state of mind was only intensifying as he walked. Even though there was no evidence that the hall was inhabited by anyone other than himself, he felt that an eternity of solitude would be perfect if it took place in this realm of unmatched peacefulness. Periodically, he would pass a fountain or a nook with a bench that lent a touch of humanity to the place.
Ambling slowly along, his calmness was so deeply ingrained that he barely reacted when he felt a tap on his shoulder. So there was another person here! Turning around, Coby saw a man clad in a white robe who was wordlessly holding out a similar robe to him. Putting it on and relishing the feel of the impossibly soft, luxurious fabric on his skin, he asked, “who are you?”
“I am Carlos Delfino,” answered the man.
A Latin-sounding name, but the hall seemed more Greco-Roman if anything, Coby thought. “I’m Coby White. Nice to meet you,” he replied, holding his hand out to shake.
“You don’t need to tell me your name,” Carlos said, nevertheless shaking Coby’s hand. “I already know it. I know the name of every person who visits this Hall.”
“If there’s more people here, why haven’t I seen anybody?” Coby asked. “I’ve been walking for…”
Coby paused there. He realized he had no idea how much time had elapsed since he had awoken. Did time even exist here? It must, because with no time, there was no forward progress, there was no cause and affect. Feelings of confusion were creeping in again. “…a long time,” he finally finished.
“The Hall of the Thirty Point Scorers is infinitely large, so the chances of encountering another soul are, suffice to say, remote.”
Hearing the full name of the place triggered a memory deep inside Coby’s mind. It was funny; up until this moment, he had not thought about the game of basketball even one time, despite it occupying nearly every waking second of his (former?) life. Now he remembered that he had just scored 33 points in a game of basketball. And…the fact that he had done that somehow granted him access to this otherworldly place of absolute perfect serenity?
“I can see you are deep in thought,” Carlos said. “That is the point of the Hall! To meditate on your successes, to find peace in them, and, eventually, to attain ultimate awareness. I will leave you to it.”
“Wait, I have one more question,” Coby said before Carlos could walk away. “Is MJ here?”
“What, like Michael Jordan?” Carlos replied.
Coby nodded.
“He’s got better places to be,” Carlos replied. “I think there’s another, higher realm for players of his caliber. Last time he made a visit down here, he kept making fun of the decor, and then he said, and these are his words, ‘I hate hanging out here with all the scrubs.’ Then he sort of rose up off the ground and through the clouds.”
“Wow, harsh,” Coby said. “I think it’s nice here.”
“Thank you. The Overseers will be glad to know of your happiness with the accommodations.”
Coby had no more questions, so when Carlos walked away, Coby simply continued walking in his original direction. Maybe the Hall of the Thirty Point Scorers wasn’t good enough for MJ, but it was definitely good enough for him.