At the pre-tip-off workout drill, both teams proceeded to their respective halves of the court to shoot jump shots and warm up. Jamar, going through his own routine, couldn't help but glance over to the opposing team. As he did, he noticed a new player, someone he hadn't seen on the scouting reports.
Wearing number 29, the kid had a fluid, beautiful jump shot from beyond the arc. Every shot he took seemed to glide effortlessly into the net. Jamar squinted, trying to get a better look, and his heart skipped a beat when he recognized the player.
"Gary Ferguson," Jamar muttered under his breath. Gary was a familiar face from middle school, someone Jamar had been close friends with. They had played countless games together and had always imagined going to the same high school. But life had taken them on different paths.
Gary noticed Jamar staring and, with a wide grin, jogged over to him. "Hi Jamar, it's been quite some time," he said, extending his hand.
