I see a little smug smile come on her face, and I turn away.
Fifteen minutes later, we’re back on the court, now with the crowd filing in, music playing, and energy high. It helps to get me into the zone mentally.Starting or not, I want to make a strong impression.
The game begins and I realize I’m going to have to find ways to stay locked in, even while sitting on the bench.
I decide to micro-focus on the shooting guard on the opposing team from Houston. Watching for her tells, her favorite moves, her strengths and weaknesses.
That works. The first few minutes fly by, and when a whistle blows to break my spell, I hear my name.
“Parker, you’re up,” Coach Anker shouts.
As soon as I stand and start taking off my cover shirt, the crowd erupts into cheers. Within three seconds, everyone has caught on and the place is nuts.
Coming in for number six, Katrina Dawes, is number eight, the newest member of the Orlando Surge, our number one draft pick, AVERY PARKER.
Guess the announcer decided to be a little bit extra with my first game.
The crowd gets impossibly louder after he says my name, and cameras are EVERYWHERE. I block them out, grateful for my years of experience at ignoring being filmed.
Welcome to the WNBA. You’ve waited your life to get here, and it’s only the beginning of your dream.
Sarah is grinning as she sees me come onto the court. Wrapping her arm around me as I come next to her, she whispers, “Where you’re meant to be. Now smile and wave to everyone.”
Oh shoot, yeah, I should do that.Before it gets too late, I wave at the crowd, doing a 360-degree turn and setting off another level of cheering.
Eventually a ref blows a whistle, pulling the game back into focus. As I line up to guard my Houston counterpart, the same player I’d been watching earlier, she gives me a wink.
“Let’s see what you got, Parker.”
The play starts and now it’s only about ball. My happy place.
Similar to preseason, the game is much more physical than college. The women are stronger, faster,better.
At the shooting guard position, my primary job is to score points, so I test different ways to get free for clean shots at every chance. It’s so much harder than college, but I start finding little tricks that work, imprinting them for next time.
I’m also getting banged into on every play, and trying to figure out the limits of what I can get away with in return.
But I freaking love it. I have to use everything in my wheelhouse to get space for my shots, defend effectively, and move around the player covering me.
This is part of becoming the best guard ever in the WNBA.
And I can feel that, out of necessity, the non-verbal communication with my teammates is beginning to strengthen.
In the second half, this becomes evident when I cut away from my defender along the perimeter, and on instinct, our starting center, Wendy, whips the ball to me from her position under the basket. I nail a wide-open three-pointer, and Wendy fist bumps me.
A genuine smile appears on my face in return.
I belong here. I’m home.
Now I can push for even more.
I’m in and out all game, and I don’t miss that my minutes are almost as much as Katrina’s.
Most importantly, we crush the Houston team, with Sarah putting on a clinic with her mid-range jump shot and Wendy dominating the boards.
By the time we pour into the locker room after the final buzzer, I’m in too good of a mood to dwell on my endorsement situation. A conversation with Sarah about it can wait.
“Come on, let’s all go out!” Marisa, our other starting forward, says. She and Wendy are in a serious relationship so I’m sure Wendy will join us too.
