"Go, Punggol, go!" the supporters from my school cheered in gusto.
"Xin Min, Xin Min! We are the best!" went the supporters from our opponents.
The stadium was filled with high spirits and excitement. Everyone waited in great anticipation. At the court, players clad in their smart jerseys were doing the drills and warming-up exercises. Xin Min, in their sky-blue jerseys, looked determined to claim the championship title back from us. My team, in our fierce black and yellow outfit, would not let that happen!
My eyes met Ronnie’s, the captain of Xin Min, a few times. His expression was serious and cold. He dribbled and gave a shot. The ball lobbed in the air and went through the net beautifully every time. The crowd cheered and applauded with every of his nimble move.
"Bee… eeep," the umpire's whistle was blown. Our team players patted on one another's shoulders and quickly took our positions. Ronnie and I met again at the centre of the court. We exchanged the fieriest glance and fixed our eyes on the ball. As the umpire tossed the ball in the air, we leapt simultaneously.
Having the advantage of being taller, I tipped the ball over to Gary. Punggol supporters screamed in triumph and their cheers rocked the stadium. The battle began. Gary dribbled the ball and attempted to pass it to Ahmad but was intercepted.
The ball was in Xin Min's possession. Player Number 5 adeptly dribbled at break-neck speed towards the basket. He did a swift pass to Ronnie who seized the opportunity to shoot. The ball obediently went into the basket. Xin Min's supporters roared.
"2 – nil, not so easy, Ronnie," I muttered. The ball was back to us. Dribbling across the court, I was approaching the 3-point range. Breaking through the attackers, I took aim and shot. It was an easy shot. Our supporters burst into a frenzy.
The match went on. It was a tough and close fight with both teams scoring alternatively. When the whistle was blown for half-time, it was a tie.
"Boys! Keep an eye on Ronnie! Don't let him go near the net. Step up your attacks!" Mr Chen, our coach gave his instructions in a barrage. We nodded and threw them a resolute look to beat them.
The match resumed. We played, abiding by Mr Chen's instructions and our points on the scoreboard climbed steadily with Xin Min lagging further and further. Our confidence rose with the score. My energy was draining but I pushed on. I could sense Ronnie's anxiety from the manner he played. His team was getting rough. They shoved and pushed our players but the umpire did not notice. We were tired, but more frustrated.
Gary hurled the ball to me. I caught it and turned around, heading towards the basket. On seeing that, Ronnie ran menacingly in my direction. When I leapt to shoot, he jumped. Instead of blocking the ball, he pushed me forcefully down. I keeled over and dropped to the ground. An excruciating pain on my shin was felt instantly.
"Ouch!" I groaned in agony. It was an old injury. The pain was ripping me apart.
The match was stopped. Players from both teams crowded around me. Confrontations and denials were exchanged. Gary pushed Ronnie aside. Mr Chen came running to the court with his medical kit. He iced my shin which was by then bulging and bruised. I gritted my teeth. I could not pull myself up. A medic, with the help of Mr Chen, carried me away from the court. Ronnie was given a red card. Both captains were out of the game.
The game continued and the crowd cheered on again. When the game ended, it was clear who the champion was. Punggol won, not just the title, but also the sportsmanship of fair play.
