I should be an all-star.
I should be player of the game!
All my coach had to do was open her eyes. Then she'd see my all-star, MVP, All-American potential and I could start filling up my trophy case. Yet for reasons beyond my comprehension, I ended up riding the pine and singing the blues ninety-nine percent of the time.
Then my volleyball woes took a back seat to the task of bringing the gold home to Broadway Ave. in the Brightest Stars academic competition. While my dad worked double shifts to pay the bills, I knew my mother was watching over me from heaven.
I had to get in the game and I had to win.