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A spirit that is not afraid

OPINION: Hardwood tales from the end of the bench

The game was Auburn vs. Jacksonville State.
We were unstoppable that night in the Auburn Arena. We built a huge lead behind the strong play of Chris Denson and KT Harrell, aka The Bearded One.
The outcome of the contest was all but decided, and when most people saw a blowout win, I saw an opportunity.
Coach Barbee glared down the bench and looked at me and my teammate, Devin Waddell. He said a quick prayer, and then called our names to check in. Next thing I knew, I was dribbling the ball up the floor frantically trying to get my team into an offensive set with thousands of screaming Tiger fans in attendance.
Considering the fact I got a grand total of zero reps in practice that week, I was somewhat nervous.
As a walk-on, you never really know when it's going to be your time to shine. However, that night, on that floor, my moment came.
The ball was in my hands with 50 seconds left in the game. Jacksonville State did a great job defending the play coach called because I didn't run it correctly.
With the 35-second shot clock running down, I had no choice but to improvise. Attempting my best Tahj Shamsid-Deen impersonation, I called for a high ball-screen and used it to beat my defender into the paint.
I attacked the rim with the ferocity of a Miniature Pinscher. Jacksonville State's center slid perfectly into help position from the weak side, but that night, I would not be denied. I didn't back the ball out, and I didn't look for an open teammate.
I went full Kobe mode on the Gamecocks.
Ignoring a wide-open Devin in the corner, put my head down, dipped my shoulder into my defender, and blindly floated the ball up toward the glass with the grace of Derrick Rose.
As the ball drifted through the air, I had a shortness of breath, mostly because I was out of oxygen because of my chronic asthma.
It was my first career shot attempt, and although my skill level may have appeared to be that of a redshirt senior, I was under a lot more pressure than people realized.
All of that pressure subsided when cheers from the crowd confirmed my eyes weren't playing tricks on me.
The ball went through the net.
It finally happened. I scored. I recorded my first career points as an Auburn Tiger.
During my victory trot down the court, I had the biggest smile on my face. It communicated the phrase, shove it, to everyone who said I couldn't do it.
I came to Auburn as a basketball manager, and even when I was added to the roster two weeks later, I was still expected to fail living in the shadow of the scholarship players.
I'm not the biggest, or the strongest. I'm not the fastest, or the most skilled, but somehow, day after day, I make it work.
I have embraced the role of Mr. Irrelevant, and for a kid who wasn't supposed to accomplish anything, I've done pretty well for myself.
As these thoughts were going through my head, I quickly realized my celebration was a bit premature.
The four-foot-zero point guard I was guarding launched a three in my face and drained it as time expired.
Gotta love college basketball.
CJ Holmes is a sports writter for The Plainsman. He can be reached at sports@theplainsman.


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