Saturday afternoon found BJ stretched out on the couch, scrolling through his phone while the TV played in the background. His dad, Benny, had gone to take care of some errands, leaving BJ to enjoy a rare moment of peace in their small but cozyhouse The quiet didn't last long, though, as Benny returned a little after lunch with bags in hand and his typical high energy.
"Alright, kid," Benny said, setting a grocery bag on the counter. "We're meal prepping for the week. I'm not letting you eat fast food every day just because it's basketball season."
BJ groaned, sliding off the couch. "Man come on pops I'm just trying to relax."
Benny raised an eyebrow. "You'll relax when you're putting buckets on Southport Friday. Now c'mon."
BJ reluctantly got up and joined his dad in the kitchen. Benny was careful with everything portioning out chicken breasts, chopping up vegetables, and packing containers for the week. BJ handled the simpler tasks, like stirring pasta and loading the dishwasher, all while grumbling under his breath.
"You know," Benny said, cutting through BJ's complaints, "if you spent half as much energy on meal prep as you do scrolling Instagram, we'd be done already."
"I'm just saying, Pops," BJ shot back, "you're acting like we're feeding an army. It's just us."
"Discipline starts at home," Benny replied, tossing BJ a clean container. "You want to be great? Then every detail matters."
By the time they finished, it was late afternoon, and Benny decided it was time for a workout. They headed to the gym a small community center a few blocks away that Benny had taken BJ to since he was a kid. The gym's squeaky hardwood floors and faint smell of sweat were familiar, almost comforting.
"Alright," Benny said as they walked in, "free throws first. Ten in a row, or we're not leaving."
BJ smirked, grabbing a ball. "Ten in a row that's easy."
It wasn't as easy as he thought. After missing his seventh attempt twice, Benny stood by the basket, arms crossed. "Focus, BJ. You're rushing."
BJ reset, took a deep breath and sank ten straight. Benny nodded in approval. "There you go. Now let's work on those pull-ups."
They spent the next hour running drills BJ weaving through cones, practicing mid-range jumpers, and finishing strong at the rim. Benny's sharp critiques never let up, but neither did his encouragement.
"That's it! Attack the basket like you mean it!" Benny yelled as BJ powered through a layup.
After their workout, they grabbed smoothies from a nearby shop before heading home. BJ spent the rest of the evening texting with Xavier and Tyreek about Southport. Tyreek sent videos of the last game they played against Southport in middle school, breaking down where things went wrong. BJ couldn't help but laugh at how serious Tyreek was.
"Man, you're acting like this is the state championship it's JV dawg" BJ texted.
"Every game is a championship," Tyreek replied.
BJ rolled his eyes but couldn't help feeling a little extra motivation. He knew Southport's JV team was talking trash, and he couldn't wait to shut them up on Friday.
Sunday was quieter. Benny let BJ sleep in until 9:30, which BJ considered a small victory. They went to church together in the morning, followed by brunch at a local diner. Benny spent most of the afternoon on the phone with coaching staff and watching films on upcoming opponents, while BJ lounged on the couch, flipping between basketball highlights and old episodes of his favorite shows.
As the weekend wound down, BJ felt recharged. Monday marked the start of another week of practice, and Friday's rematch against Southport was looming. He lay in bed that night, staring at his ceiling, replaying drills in his mind. His dad's words from earlier echoed in his head: "Discipline starts at home."
BJ smirked to himself. "Alright, Southport," he muttered before falling asleep. "Let's see what you got."