This will be a story about a rookie going through the NBA and the adversity he faces. Mike Black is a 5'11" point guard out of a small college in NYC. More will be revealed about him as the story progresses.
--------------------
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Mike Black awoke to the loud sound of the alarm clock next to his bed and immediately turned it off. He slowly rolled out of bed in his small apartment in downtown Brooklyn and looked out the window.
It was a sunny, bright day. The perfect day for a basketball game. He looked around at the familiar sights of Bed-Sty, the place he had always called home, and what he had previously thought always would. He didn’t have the money to move out, and although he was smart, it had always been hard for him to get a job. No one wanted to hire a “thug” (which is, it seemed, what he was labeled no matter what he did) from Bed-Sty – unless you were the NBA.
It was also June 29, the day after the NBA Draft. Mike had been drafted to the Washington Wizards the day before. The Wizards’ first round pick, Mike was extremely surprised to find out he would be Washington’s sixth man, playing behind all-star Gilbert Arenas. He wasn’t even invited to the draft, who expected him to be a first-round pick? He knew this would be his last look at the city as he knew it, yet it all still seemed like a dream.
“Hello?” Black picked up the phone that had been ringing without him realizing it, who knows how long.
“Hey, Mike? This is Coach Jordan.” So it wasn’t a dream. “Listen, training camp starts in October on the 21st, but I’m expecting a lot from you. You better work your little ass off.”
“Yes, coach!” Mike responded enthusiastically. Suddenly, he was awake and ready to play the best game in the world.
Against All Odds: The Mike Black Story
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Against All Odds: The Mike Black Story
by The GOAT on Mon Feb 13, 2006 4:10 am
There is no truth. There is only you and what you make the truth.
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by The GOAT on Mon Feb 13, 2006 4:12 am
DISCLAIMER: The following story about the police officer was not made up. It has come from personal experiences.
November 1st, 2005
Training camp was over, and tomorrow was the first game. Black had secured his spot as sixth man, completely eliminating any competition on the bench. He’d done a fine job, if he could say so himself. He’d done a great job on defense, as that had always been his specialty. In scrimmages, he’d held Arenas to as little as 10 points, a feat he considered a major accomplishment. He’d been feeling great about himself, but with his NBA debut just a day away, he was starting to get butterflies in his stomach. He wondered what his dad’s advice would be. Oh, how he wished he could talk to him now.
Mike’s dad died when he was just 2 years old. Mike was half-black, his dad was black and his mom was pure Polish, a strange combination that produced the Hispanic-looking
Mike. His father, Frank, had been driving him home one day, completely abiding the law, when he was stopped by a police officer.
“Sir, are you aware that you were speeding?” The officer asked, his thick moustache moving more than his mouth. “Officer, with all due respect, I was not speeding. I was driving 35 mph, the limit is 40.” Frank responded. He smelled alcohol on the man’s breath. “Oh, you’re talking back to me know?” The officer said, his speech slightly slurred. “No officer, I wasn’t.” “Well it sounded like you were to me!” he said. “Officer, are you drunk?!” Frank said, angered. “That’s enough out of you, nigger.” He pulled his gun out of its holster as a soft crying started coming from the back seat. A loud bang rumbled through out the city of Brooklyn.
Black had witnessed the whole thing. That’s why he played basketball. That’s why he hustled every play. That’s why he lived. For his father. And now he was in the NBA, both of their dreams for him. He knew he would succeed, not from himself, but for Frank. He immediately started focusing on the game at hand.
November 1st, 2005
Training camp was over, and tomorrow was the first game. Black had secured his spot as sixth man, completely eliminating any competition on the bench. He’d done a fine job, if he could say so himself. He’d done a great job on defense, as that had always been his specialty. In scrimmages, he’d held Arenas to as little as 10 points, a feat he considered a major accomplishment. He’d been feeling great about himself, but with his NBA debut just a day away, he was starting to get butterflies in his stomach. He wondered what his dad’s advice would be. Oh, how he wished he could talk to him now.
Mike’s dad died when he was just 2 years old. Mike was half-black, his dad was black and his mom was pure Polish, a strange combination that produced the Hispanic-looking
Mike. His father, Frank, had been driving him home one day, completely abiding the law, when he was stopped by a police officer.
“Sir, are you aware that you were speeding?” The officer asked, his thick moustache moving more than his mouth. “Officer, with all due respect, I was not speeding. I was driving 35 mph, the limit is 40.” Frank responded. He smelled alcohol on the man’s breath. “Oh, you’re talking back to me know?” The officer said, his speech slightly slurred. “No officer, I wasn’t.” “Well it sounded like you were to me!” he said. “Officer, are you drunk?!” Frank said, angered. “That’s enough out of you, nigger.” He pulled his gun out of its holster as a soft crying started coming from the back seat. A loud bang rumbled through out the city of Brooklyn.
Black had witnessed the whole thing. That’s why he played basketball. That’s why he hustled every play. That’s why he lived. For his father. And now he was in the NBA, both of their dreams for him. He knew he would succeed, not from himself, but for Frank. He immediately started focusing on the game at hand.
There is no truth. There is only you and what you make the truth.
- The GOAT
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by Ruff Ryder on Mon Feb 13, 2006 4:25 am
So is this the story of you Mike? Sounds interesting so far, but I find the draft-thing a little unrealistic, also the fact that he's the six man. Maybe if he was signed as a free agent.
Anyway, good luck, and fuck the police!
Anyway, good luck, and fuck the police!
'Retired'
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by Don Corleone on Mon Feb 13, 2006 4:41 am
Looks interesting and... good luck 
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"Give me 50 shots and watch me" - Shaq about Kobe's record
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by The GOAT on Mon Feb 13, 2006 6:21 am
I have a problem....I realized I don't have the updated rosters. I have a ps2 so I can't use Andrew's...anyone know where to get recently updated rosters for maxdrive or codebreaker?
There is no truth. There is only you and what you make the truth.
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by Num33Baller on Mon Feb 13, 2006 8:01 am
Good story man. Don't even get me started on the police tho. Those mother fuckers need to get fired man. Criminals with badges, thats all they are.
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by The GOAT on Mon Feb 13, 2006 8:58 am
Any help on the rosters? If I don't get any tonight I'll just go with what I have (PS2 Max Drive file from GameFAQs).
There is no truth. There is only you and what you make the truth.
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by The GOAT on Mon Feb 13, 2006 9:20 am
Yeah I'll do that, then see if I can get a game in tonight. Settings are All-Star difficulty, 5 minutes (tried 8 but the score was 64-60 at halftime) and Andrew's sliders.
There is no truth. There is only you and what you make the truth.
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by Num33Baller on Mon Feb 13, 2006 11:15 am
The G.O.A.T. wrote:Yeah I'll do that, then see if I can get a game in tonight. Settings are All-Star difficulty, 5 minutes (tried 8 but the score was 64-60 at halftime) and Andrew's sliders.
try superstar
Scores won't be so high.
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by The GOAT on Mon Feb 13, 2006 11:39 am
no, I have no digital camera so I can't take pics.Toxic wrote:Any pics?
Num33Baller wrote:The G.O.A.T. wrote:Yeah I'll do that, then see if I can get a game in tonight. Settings are All-Star difficulty, 5 minutes (tried 8 but the score was 64-60 at halftime) and Andrew's sliders.
try superstar
Scores won't be so high.
I would lose almost every game, I can't play on Superstar.
Anyway, I did the rosters, about to start the game.
There is no truth. There is only you and what you make the truth.
- The GOAT
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by Num33Baller on Mon Feb 13, 2006 1:02 pm
The G.O.A.T. wrote:Num33Baller wrote:The G.O.A.T. wrote:Yeah I'll do that, then see if I can get a game in tonight. Settings are All-Star difficulty, 5 minutes (tried 8 but the score was 64-60 at halftime) and Andrew's sliders.
try superstar
Scores won't be so high.
I would lose almost every game, I can't play on Superstar.
Anyway, I did the rosters, about to start the game.
Adjust the sliders, turn down the CPU FG and 3pt sliders.
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by The GOAT on Mon Feb 13, 2006 1:51 pm
November 2nd, 2005
Washington at Toronto
This was it, the moment he’d been waiting for all his life. He took one last look at the court and its stands full of fans before heading to the bench for the coach’s pre-game speech. He didn’t seem to mind that all the people in the stands were cheering against him; just the fact that they were there to watch him play was amazing enough.
“Okay, this is the Toronto Raptors. They’re nothing. NOTHING. We should be able to squash them like flies. Chris Bosh is their only threat – shut him down and we will have no problems. Now, the starting lineup: Haywood, Jamison, Hayes, Butler, Arenas. Let’s make it happen boys.”
Black didn’t get a chance to play until a minute in, when he replaced the struggling Caron Butler – at shooting guard. He was only 5’11”. He hadn’t played shooting guard since High School. He didn’t expect this, no one expected it. Mike got in and, ignoring the fact he was at 2-guard, focused on defense. His team was down 4. They needed a stop, and that’s what he did the best. Mike James brought the ball up the court, dribbled around a bit, and passed it off to Mo Peterson – Black’s man. Peterson threw a head fake, but Mike didn’t buy it. He tried to drive, tried to cross right by the quick Black, and failed. Black used his quick hands to strip Peterson of the ball completely and raced upcourt. He looked back and saw Arenas behind him. He didn’t know why or what possessed him to do it, but he did. He threw up an alley-oop. He watched from underneath the basket as Arenas grabbed it with one hand and stuffed it down. The fans fell silent, but the Wizards bench went wild. “That’s it, rook!” Arenas encouraged his backcourt teammate.
The Raptors, however, found a way to answer back; Chris Bosh dunked right over Haywood to extend their lead back to four. That was how the rest of the half seemed to go, with the Raptors scoring and the Wizards answering right back with points by Arenas or Jamison as Black dished out assists left and right, Black occasionally scoring on a fast break layup off a steal. The Wiz headed to their lockers at halftime, down by five. Black had been the key to any success the Wizards had, with 7 assists, 8 steals and 10 points at halftime; he was on his way to a triple-double.
“This is the Toronto friggin’ Raptors!” screamed Eddie Jordan, the infuriated Washington coach. “We should be up by 10, not behind by 5! Gilbert, you’re not doing anything on d! I’m surprised! You’re letting Mike James score on you at will? Who? Mike James? What is that?!” The players sat in silence, their heads down. Black thought about the game so far. He was very pleased with his offensive performance. He’d led the offense with his quick, decisive passes. He’d done a decent job at stopping Mo Peterson, their number two scoring threat; Mo only had 7 points. He had also done a god job embarrassing him. Almost all of his steal cam from just grabbing the ball out of Peterson’s hands and running. He figured he could do a better job shooting, he was 0-2 from 3-point range, but the only reason he took the last one was because the buzzer ran out. He rarely took shots that weren’t layups. Mike looked up at the locker room and realized everyone was leaving for the court. He was the last one out. With a last look skyward for assistance, he followed his teammates.
Whether it was divine intervention or just plain luck no one will ever know, but from the beginning of the third quarter to the end of the game Black went on a shooting streak that he had never before seen from himself. He started the 3rd quarter off at point guard to try to stop Mike James, but that turned out to be an understatement. After two steals and two fast-break layups, blowing by everyone on the court, Black once again took off with the ball after stripping it from James for the third straight possession. But this time he didn’t finish with a fast break layup. Here’s where the possibility of divine intervention comes into play. He rose up above the rim – AND DUNKED IT. It was quite an amazing sight, a 5’11” player jumping high enough to kiss the rime, then throwing it down with the authority rivaled only by Shaq and Amare. Raptors fans sat in their seats, stunned, their eyes bulging and jaws at their feet. But this wasn’t over.
Mike Black went on to score 30 points, yes, 30 points, 15 steals, and 11 assists to single-handedly lead his team back from what had been a 12 point deficit at one point to an 88-71 win over the Toronto Raptors in Canada. As he walked off the court, teammates congratulating him and reporters swarming, he indiscreetly pinched his own arm – just to make sure.
Washington at Toronto
This was it, the moment he’d been waiting for all his life. He took one last look at the court and its stands full of fans before heading to the bench for the coach’s pre-game speech. He didn’t seem to mind that all the people in the stands were cheering against him; just the fact that they were there to watch him play was amazing enough.
“Okay, this is the Toronto Raptors. They’re nothing. NOTHING. We should be able to squash them like flies. Chris Bosh is their only threat – shut him down and we will have no problems. Now, the starting lineup: Haywood, Jamison, Hayes, Butler, Arenas. Let’s make it happen boys.”
Black didn’t get a chance to play until a minute in, when he replaced the struggling Caron Butler – at shooting guard. He was only 5’11”. He hadn’t played shooting guard since High School. He didn’t expect this, no one expected it. Mike got in and, ignoring the fact he was at 2-guard, focused on defense. His team was down 4. They needed a stop, and that’s what he did the best. Mike James brought the ball up the court, dribbled around a bit, and passed it off to Mo Peterson – Black’s man. Peterson threw a head fake, but Mike didn’t buy it. He tried to drive, tried to cross right by the quick Black, and failed. Black used his quick hands to strip Peterson of the ball completely and raced upcourt. He looked back and saw Arenas behind him. He didn’t know why or what possessed him to do it, but he did. He threw up an alley-oop. He watched from underneath the basket as Arenas grabbed it with one hand and stuffed it down. The fans fell silent, but the Wizards bench went wild. “That’s it, rook!” Arenas encouraged his backcourt teammate.
The Raptors, however, found a way to answer back; Chris Bosh dunked right over Haywood to extend their lead back to four. That was how the rest of the half seemed to go, with the Raptors scoring and the Wizards answering right back with points by Arenas or Jamison as Black dished out assists left and right, Black occasionally scoring on a fast break layup off a steal. The Wiz headed to their lockers at halftime, down by five. Black had been the key to any success the Wizards had, with 7 assists, 8 steals and 10 points at halftime; he was on his way to a triple-double.
“This is the Toronto friggin’ Raptors!” screamed Eddie Jordan, the infuriated Washington coach. “We should be up by 10, not behind by 5! Gilbert, you’re not doing anything on d! I’m surprised! You’re letting Mike James score on you at will? Who? Mike James? What is that?!” The players sat in silence, their heads down. Black thought about the game so far. He was very pleased with his offensive performance. He’d led the offense with his quick, decisive passes. He’d done a decent job at stopping Mo Peterson, their number two scoring threat; Mo only had 7 points. He had also done a god job embarrassing him. Almost all of his steal cam from just grabbing the ball out of Peterson’s hands and running. He figured he could do a better job shooting, he was 0-2 from 3-point range, but the only reason he took the last one was because the buzzer ran out. He rarely took shots that weren’t layups. Mike looked up at the locker room and realized everyone was leaving for the court. He was the last one out. With a last look skyward for assistance, he followed his teammates.
Whether it was divine intervention or just plain luck no one will ever know, but from the beginning of the third quarter to the end of the game Black went on a shooting streak that he had never before seen from himself. He started the 3rd quarter off at point guard to try to stop Mike James, but that turned out to be an understatement. After two steals and two fast-break layups, blowing by everyone on the court, Black once again took off with the ball after stripping it from James for the third straight possession. But this time he didn’t finish with a fast break layup. Here’s where the possibility of divine intervention comes into play. He rose up above the rim – AND DUNKED IT. It was quite an amazing sight, a 5’11” player jumping high enough to kiss the rime, then throwing it down with the authority rivaled only by Shaq and Amare. Raptors fans sat in their seats, stunned, their eyes bulging and jaws at their feet. But this wasn’t over.
Mike Black went on to score 30 points, yes, 30 points, 15 steals, and 11 assists to single-handedly lead his team back from what had been a 12 point deficit at one point to an 88-71 win over the Toronto Raptors in Canada. As he walked off the court, teammates congratulating him and reporters swarming, he indiscreetly pinched his own arm – just to make sure.
There is no truth. There is only you and what you make the truth.
- The GOAT
- Posts: 3197
- Joined: Mon Oct 06, 2003 11:06 am
- Location: Long Island, New York
- Num33Baller
- Posts: 588
- Joined: Sun Nov 28, 2004 11:27 am
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