That Was I
That Was I By: Tice Jenkins I was the kid that was like any other coach’s son – athletic shorts and t-shirts. I always had a basketball in my hand, it was expected of me The constant repetition of the basketball hitting the polished clean floor The squeak of the shoe from the gym floor The screech of the whistle or yelp from my dad absorbed the oxygen in the air The tiring mornings from the late-night basketball games…