To Pass

To pass, or not to pass. That is the question:

Whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer a turnover of poor fortune

Or to take arms against the defense

And by opposing score? To give: to pass;

No more; and by a pass we say end

To the pressure and dissapointment

Of missing a jumper to tie the game, tis an option

Highly desired. To give, to pass;

To pass: perchance to win: ah ha, there’s the bump;

For in that pass what win may come

When we have given up our only opportunity to score ourselves

Frightening: there’s the cowardliness

That makes shame of a leader;

For who would bear the yelling and emotional abuse of the coach,

The baskets’ displaced compassion, the opponents arrogance,

The referees’ indifference, the parents ashamed,

The teasing of the scoreboard and the pain

Of the final buzzers’ sound

When she herself might have struck her final blow

With the simplest of layups? Who would endure

The guilt of releasing the ball into anothers hands,

But that the dread of something after the pass,

The unknown following actions that can and WILL be

Blamed upon you the point guard, tests your tolerance

And leads you rather to bear the stress you already have

Than to confront those of a possible future?

The mind instills fear in us;

And thus the original concept of passing

Is quickly overruled by thoughts of the play going wrong,

And the initial trust in your teammate

Is twisted and perceived now as a selfish need to claim glory

And is replaced by a three-pointer from downtown.