Page 25 - FATE & DESTINY

FATE & DESTINY

3 IN THE NAME OF FOOTBALL

After a long vacation, I yearned to go back to school. Especially the new school and the new dress excited me.
“Yippee, I am going to a high school now,” I said to myself. “I am gonna miss my old school, but I must go.”
The high school had all the classrooms in a single towering U-shaped building, and the football ground in the
front, and the basketball court between the academic building and the girls’ dormitory.
The seniors played basketball even during lunch breaks. One afternoon, my friends and I watched them play.
“Hey, Uncle,” said a senior, a thin guy. “Come, please. We’re short of a player.”
My friend and I exchanged glances.
“You tall guy.” He pointed at me. “Yes, you, Uncle.”
I turned around. Nobody was behind me. “Me?”
“Yes, you,” he said. “Please come.”
My friends chuckled.
“Why are you laughing?” He glared at my friends. “Is there a problem, juniors?”
My friends stopped chuckling.
“Me? Uncle?” I said. “Why? How come?”
“Aren’t you Tshering Chopel’s younger brother?” he asked.
I gaped. “I am.”
“Your brother was our hero,” he said. “We used to call him Uncle. You’re Uncle Jr. now. Come, please.”
“I can’t play,” I said, blushing. “I never played basketball before.”
“No problem,” he said. “Just block the ball.”
My heart pulsated. “Are you sure, Ata?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Come.”
The game began. I jumped here and there like a flea, and ran around the court, but the ball either slipped or
dropped off my hands.
“Uncle, throw it here,” he shouted.
I flung the ball onto his face. “Oops! Sorry.”
“Ouch!” He rubbed his cheeks. “You can go now.”
My friends guffawed.
“Hey, boys,” he said. “Mind your mouth.”
“Guys, let’s go,” I said. “I have had enough.”

***

The inter-class football tournament began soon. But I didn’t have a half-pant.
“Shucks, nobody wants to lend me a half-pant,” I said to myself. “What should I do now? Oh, yes! My jeans
pant.” I cut it half above the knee-level into serrated edges. “This should serve me a purpose, I hope so.”
The next day, we—the seventh grades—played our first match against the eighth grades. The game didn’t go well
for me. The ball either bounced off my chest or slipped away my hands into the net.
The next day, Norbu was standing at the entrance. He glared at me as I walked past him. “Seniors say it was your
blunder.”
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