Basketball Genie

The Genie never lectures. He notices. He asks. He occasionally grants a player three Swishes—but the reader slowly realizes that the Swishes aren't really wishes. They are moments: the shot you prepared for, the choice nobody saw, the possession when you became somebody different.

A player should finish each story thinking: “Was that written about me?”

Wide-angle view of a dark bedroom with basketball shoes by the door and a shadowy genie on a dresser.

Basketball Genie Vol. 1 : "Day 2 The Alarm Clock Knows Which You Wins"

The alarm starts before the sun even clocks in. BRRING. Not a cute little phone chime either. Not some gentle woodland fairy sound like, “Good morning, champion.” Nah. This thing sounds like a robot goose getting stepped on. BRRING. BRRING. The room is dark. The floor is cold. Your hoodie is somewhere in the shadow zone, probably plotting against you. Your shoes sit by the door like two silent witnesses. Nobody is watching.

Basketball Genie

Sep 712 min read

Your all alone in a gym working on your game. Who are you when no one is around? How do you approach the game?

Basketball Genie Vol. 1 : "Day 1 You Get Three Swishes"

The gym sounds different after everyone leaves. During practice, it is all sneakers, whistles, bouncing balls, water bottles getting kicked over, and somebody yelling, “My bad,” after throwing a pass directly into another person’s kneecap. But after? After is weird. The lights buzz like tired bees. The bleachers sit folded along the wall like giant metal jaws. The scoreboard is dark, except for one red dot that blinks every few seconds...

Basketball Genie

Sep 79 min read