“That’s amazing, baby girl, I’m so proud of you.”
Amanda Davis reached out to stroke away the strand of hair from her face. Proudly admiring her daughter.
“Mom, stop.”
“What? I’m just so proud of you.”
“I know, butI’m sweaty.”
“I don’t care, come here.” They embraced once again. This time, Megan didn’t pull away. The bond she had with her parents would outlast any time constraints society put on her. So what if they made her feel like she was still sixteen years old, they loved her and that was all that mattered. The tears in her mom’s eyes counteracted the happiness shown on her face. If everything went to plan, Megan would be thousands of miles away once again and she knew that would be hardfor her mom.
“I need to go. They’re going to presentthe trophy.”
“Okay, sweetheart, have fun. Congratulations again.”
“Thank you, love you.”
Megan joined her teammates. The announcer called out across the arena.
“And now for the presentation of the 2017 WBBL finals trophy and the WBBL finals MVP award. Please welcome league commissioner, Lynne Randel.”
A woman in her late 40s with shoulder-length brown hair took centre stage.
“Thank you for what has been such an entertaining season. Finally, after what was a dramatic and hard-fought final game, we get to crown a champion. First of all, I’d like to say congratulations to the Lions on a fantastic season.” The 10,000-strong crowd applauded the Lions’ efforts. “Now for the trophy, please welcome your 2017 WBBL champions, the Manchester Met Mystics.”
Lynne Randel handed the trophy to the point guard and captain of the team, Brittney Miller. Megan watched in awe as the crowd erupted and the canons fired red and blue confetti into the atmosphere. Then suddenly, it was as if the celebrations of her teammates and the crowd sounded from a million miles away, fading slowly into the background. When her triumph was being recognised and the glory felt staggering, all that she pictured in the subdued silence was Ashley. The realisation that Ashley wasn’t present for the biggest moment of her life felt wrong. Despite the complexity of their relationship, Megan felt a hole. She couldn’t help but consider how different she’d be feeling if Ashley was there, standing on the courtside with her parents.What if they’d found a way to be more than friends? How different wouldher life be?
The announcer eventually broke the trance that consumed Megan. “Now to present the finals MVP award, once again, Lynne Randel.”
“With a dominant performance, scoring 92 points in three games, averaging 30 points a game in these finals, close to 7 assists and 3 steals, the unanimous MVP vote goes to…Megan Davies.”
Lynne handed Megan the small glass trophy. Once the applause settled, she continued.
“Megan, first of all, congratulations. How does it feel to be the WBBLchampions?”
“It’s incredible. This group of girls have played their hearts out this season. We left nothing on the table. 20/20 in the regular season all the way through to the finals to now be crowned champions, it’s been an unbelievable run and something we are all incredibly proud of.”
“You led the league in scoring and 3-point shooting this year, what did you do differently with your game to get to this point now as opposed to the previous two seasons?”
“I don’t cheat the game of basketball. Every single day I work hard. I get up early, I stay late. I train every hour I possibly can, I always have. I think sometimes things just click. You have to trust in your ability and the shots will fall. My team has helped me immensely. I wouldn’t be scoring if it wasn’t for the precision passing of my teammates, or the incredible plays drawn up by the coach. We all play a part in being able to succeed so I owe it all to them. Oh, and my dad, of course, I can’t forget him.” Her father winked from the frontrow, amused.
“Do you have any thoughts on your future? Will you remain in England? There are reports the WNBA is knocking atyour door?”
“I can’t comment on that. I just want to enjoy this moment right here, celebrate with my teammates and we will see what next season brings.”
“Thank you for your time. That’s it folks. The finals MVP and your 2017 WBBL champions. Give them a round of applause.”
***
The celebrations continued back in the locker room. Megan took phone calls from Nancy and Julie. She had over twenty messages from family and friends as well as fellow basketball players. Much to her disappointment, there was no message from Ashley amongst them.Maybe she wasn’t aware?Megan hadn’t used social media since the play-offs began, so unless Ashley followed the games she wouldn’t know—wishful thinking.Maybe she just didn’t care, Megan thought,whyshould she?
Megan felt like a bitter cliché. She wanted what she couldn’t have, or more accurately, she wanted the idea of what she thought she couldn’t have.
The thoughts of Ashley consumed her, so much so she reactivated her social media purely to make her aware. Gone were the days when we as humans would straightforwardly process our emotions, which now felt unimaginable. Instead, she would post on social media and wait patiently for people to like it, so that she could scrutinise every like that appeared until she found one in particular, the one that would give her the validation she needed. Maybe it would spark a conversation. Even a simple ‘congratulations’ would suffice, anything at all. She just wanted to be acknowledged. Megan wanted to know if, after three years, Ashley still thought about her; still wished or hoped that they could one day be in each other’s lives—like she did.
Then she saw a photo, the first one that appeared before her eyes—the algorithm knew. The heavy interaction with said photo put it at the top of Megan’s feed. There was no un-seeing it. No way to misinterpret exactly what the photo represented. Megan slumped back on the bench as the celebrations continued around her. The noise levels drowned out the whispered disbelief that escaped her lips, “She’s engaged”.
The realisation hit her hard. A lump formed in her throat as she tried to swallow down her emotions. The truth had been revealed for the world to see. The assured elation of her earlier championship win had given her hope, a reason to believe that anything was possible. Naively, she’d allowed herself to dream, even just for a fading moment, that hadbeen enough.
