I’m on the free-throw line with five seconds to go in the big game against Saint Patrick’s. Saint Cecilia’s eighth grade team trails by a single point.
It’s all up to me. I look up at the stands, where there are at least a dozen fans rooting me on. I spot my mother, Irene. She took time off from her bank job to see her youngest son play the final game of the season.
I do a quick sign of the cross and eye the front of the rim as I have been taught. I take a deep breath and let my shot fly with confidence.
SWISH!
The ball soars through the air, touching nothing. It bounces twice on the hardwood before it hits the back wall of the gym.
Saint Cecilia has lost another game.
I look up at my mother. She is standing and clapping in support of her boy.
At 76, I am still buoyed up by the sound of her cheers.