Kostas smiled. ‘Is that so?’ He jerked his six-foot-three frame forward into the boy’s space, making him flinch. And then, the second he was distracted, he pinched the ball, turned and pelted up the court towards the basket.
Panagioths laughed hard. ‘You will never catch him, Vasili.’
Kostas heard the thudding steps of his pursuer bearing down on him, but he kept focussed just like he had done in every one of his games for club and country. Block out anything else except him and the ball. He leapt, rose up and slam-dunked before Vasilis could get anywhere near close.
Panagioths cheered and clapped his hands. ‘Like lightning from Thor!’
Kostas held a hand in the air to high-five Vasilis but the boy was looking at him with a furious expression.
‘You had a head start,’ Vasilis stated, folding his arms across his chest.
‘You lost your concentration, Vasili,’ Kostas explained. ‘In basketball it is all about sensing your opponent, outsmarting them. You do not necessarily have to be the fastest or the most skilful, remember that.’
‘So,’ Panagioths said, reaching them at last. ‘You are saying that you must not be stupid.’
‘Shut up, Panagioth!’ Vasilis ordered.
‘Hey,’ Kostas said, putting a firm hand on the grumpy boy’s shoulder. ‘It is only a game.’
Kostas swallowed, thinking about the sentence he had just said.It is only a game. He’d never thought that. Not even when he was Vasilis’s age. It had been everything to him, his vocation, his whole life, the focus he had always had no matter what else was going on around him. But, apparently, it was important to keep perspective. He was still trying to learn that.
‘And I am good at this game!’ was Vasilis’s reply. ‘Usually.’
‘You are good at this game,’ Kostas reassured. He looked to Panagioths next. ‘You are also good at this game. But remember what a game is, that is all I am saying.’
‘A chance to be better than everyone else. To win,’ Vasilis said without hesitation.
‘No,’ Panagioths said. ‘It is a chance to escape the apartment when your mother tells you to clean your bedroom.’
‘Vasili,’ Kostas said seriously. ‘Winning, it is only part of the game, trust me. And there are different ways to win. Sometimes it is not immediate, sometimes the best victories can take time.’
‘But winning is the only part that everyone remembers,’ Vasilis stated.
‘No,’ Kostas said firmly, putting a hand on Vasilis’s other shoulder. ‘That is definitely not true. Sometimes the things people remember are the hard times, the struggles and that desire to rise that carries you through to the next moment. The game, it can be anything you want it to be. It is up to you to decide how you use it.’
‘And,’ Panagioths said, ‘if you struggle, Vasili, I will carry you up the stairs to your apartment.’
Vasilis snorted. ‘You struggle to carry your own bag for school!’
Kostas’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Again. He had ignored all the vibrations since he had woken up, had needed to clear his head here at the court, and then the kids had arrived. The phone vibrated again. Then again.
‘It sounds like you have mosquitos in your pockets,’ Panagioths quipped.
Kostas suspected that mosquitos would be easier to get rid of.
‘One more game?’ Vasilis begged, palms together in prayer.
Kostas checked his watch – a designer gift from a former sponsor. He didn’t really have the time but then his phone sounded again and it reminded him of everything he was so far avoiding this morning.
‘OK,’ he said to the boys. ‘One more game but, let me check my phone first.’
Panagioths grabbed the ball and went sprinting up the court with it, Vasilis in hot pursuit. Kostas took out his phone.
Tinder – 4 new matches.
Instagram – 13 notifications.
WhatsApp – too many to count.
