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kotoplasm · 4 years

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𝐈𝐈𝐈.: A PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS?

synopsis: he just needed to hear that someone would want him. he just wants to be needed.

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an: who's proofread? idk her....

a year had passed since bokuto had his last epiphany on his outlook on life. a few things had shifted since then such as how he was now in his final year of high school, serving as not only his team's ace but as the school's volleyball captain. despite his teammates incredulous beliefs about him, they couldn't deny his vocation to the role and didn't object to their previous captain's opinion. despite being knocked out of nationals after the first three rounds, he was determined to build his team up back into a condition that made their school worthy of going to nationals.

it has also been a year since he met you, stumbling into the nekoma gym out of breath, with this aura around you that made him feel like he was floating. the two of you have been sending messages back and forth for the past few months, not questioning the status of whatever relationship the two of you had.

you were reluctant to admit that he was someone you could openly speak to about anything, such as the annoyance that was your family and how you hated having to drown the noise out with music and the two pillows that you were given for your bed. in a house full of three brothers, you were lucky that you got your own room; your own little bubble to stay isolated in.

you say reluctant because of the eternal teasing you went through whenever any of the first years asked about your love life. it just so happened that the other third years would profit from the newly made opportunity to tease you until flustered.

there was a stark contrast between the third years and your family home. for example, there were times when you wished that you didn't have to constantly worry about how you were going to fall asleep that night or how you were going to get out of the house before your brothers found something to provoke you about.

"they're rude, smelly and always steal my food," you'd tell bokuto over the phone, half of your face submerged into one of the pillows that you were using to comfort yourself. "but i guess they're not that bad to live with."

in a year, he had managed to get into the friendzone. he'd said something about wanting to know the right way to ask a girl out, hoping that you'd give him some hints as to what you'd be interested in, but you insisted that he should tell this person immediately before someone takes the chance before him.

"i'm sure they're a nice person so don't be afraid if you think they'll reject your feelings," you say over a study date. it wasn't really a date but rather a meet-up. bokuto said he wanted tutoring since he fluked his maths test so he went to you since he knew that konoha wouldn't help him and akaashi was in the year below. kuroo would only violate him so you were his "safe option". something about the way he said those words didn't sit right with you however.

"but what if she doesn't like me in that way?" he asks you quietly, your eyes watching the way his hair gradually started to deflate. he was watching you, waiting for your answer. something about his eyes made you feel like this answer was important to him, more important than all the other questions he's asked you such as your standing in life or what your dreams were, both of which you couldn't think of an answer to.

your hands find his, cool and smooth running over his calluses and brawny knuckles that were a result of the strenuous training his body undergoes. this new found intimacy was definitely a newfangled feeling. just the way you carefully stroked his hands made his cheeks flush red and a nervous smile escape onto his lips.

"if she doesn't like you in that way, then she's definitely missing out on someone amazing. you don't realise this but you're important to a lot of people. so even if that certain someone doesn't realise that something which makes you special, please remember that there are people who love you for just that."

he has those words on repeat whenever he jumps to land a cross-spike into the opponent's side of the court, letting his watchers know who he is. he has those words on repeat when you're stood in the stands, wearing the biggest smile on your face with your cheeks painted in his signature number.

when he scored the winning point and you went to congratulate him, just your presence alone was able to make him think that maybe there was a reason why he wasn't interested in the caffeine driven lifestyle or the hyperactive journeys fuelled by toxic work environments and traffic from today's technology.

"that girl you were talking about... did she come and watch you play?" you ask him, eyes filled with anticipation and curiosity.

"yeah... she did and i was really happy about it."

"i'm glad to hear that."

it's next day when he wakes up to the smell of pancakes and syrup. his phone reads saturday the sixteenth and he's already up, stretching his fatigued muscles and popping out any cracks that had developed during the night. the t-shirt he wore was snug against his body to reveal evidence of his well-built form that he would work to maintain, often spotting peaks of definition in certain muscle groups that showed a rather masculine aspect to himself.

"if you keep sending me photos like that, people are going to think that we're dating," you sent back as a text when he greeted you with a rather suggestive selfie captioned "good morning."

but what if we were? would you like the photos i send? would you still be there to give me those little speeches that make me feel like a completely different person? would you still be there to lull him to sleep when he's been tossing and turning in his bed for past two hours? will you be there to critique his technique when your school has another training camp in the summer?

there were so many what ifs, so many conditionals and not one of them showed a sign of becoming definite.

but rather than sulking about the lack of progress, he sluggishly heads downstairs to find out where the source of the smell was, which was to no surprise his sister who was fixated on the breakfast food and his other sister who was sat back on the dining chair, drinking a cup of coffee that looked more charred than what was supposed to be sweet.

"morning kou. you sleep well?" she asks, setting down her cup which had stains running all around the inside of the cup of the previous level that the beverage had been before ingestion.

"decent. but i got through it. i was speaking to a friend and they helped me out."

"mmm."

"what?"

"so who's the unlucky girl?"

"whatch'a mean unlucky? and there is no "girl"! i was just talking to a friend." crap, they know.

"there's no way a friend can make you that giddy whilst you're on the phone kou," his other sister calls out, pointing her spatula at him dangerously. "now talk or else you're having stale bagels for breakfast."

"oh come on sis, don't be that harsh. give him time! besides, i always thought that you and that penelope girl would have been long term? she was a good fit if you ask me. very grounded." says the other, raising a brow at her younger brother.

"penelope wasn't that perfect. pretty and social yes, but we didn't want the same things. so it was a mutual break-up." he knew that between academic responsibilities and social relationships, school would always be her priority as sports and academics were for him.

so why did he feel so dejected all the time when he saw her across the hallway with her hair swaying from one side to the other, now at shoulder length compared to the waist length that he said suited her. her shoulder length hair gave her a more mature look which was something that he definitely found cool but didn't make the situation any better when he had her picturesque figure plagued in his mind like a sickening song.

his sisters smirk at one another knowingly, telling each other that he's learning before the coffee obsessed one grabs his shoulder, her thumb rubbing his skin in a comforting gesture.

"well you know what they say kou. there's a million of people who would probably love to meet and to know the sweet and heart-warming kid that we both love. doubting yourself isn't going to get you anywhere okay?"

he nods, feeling hopeful again.

"now tell me more about this girl. y/n you said her name was?"

adolescence taglist:

@sirachano0dles (send an ask to be added)

#myworks #bokuto x reader #bokuto scenario #bokuto headcanon #bokuto x you #bokuto hq #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios

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junker-town · 7 years

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Does the NBA Draft Combine still matter?

The stars stopped showing up but there are still jobs to be won and lost -- for prospects and GMs — at the Combine.

CHICAGO — John Calipari was holding court by the baseline with a small group of writers. On the court behind him players wearing unfamiliar numbers and matching gear ran up and down in an endless 5-on-5 scrimmage while the men who hold their professional fate in their hands watched intently from the bleachers.

Surreal only begins to describe the NBA Draft Combine, a curious blip on the annual calendar in which the whole league gathers for two days at this West Side gym for the ostensible purpose of working out, measuring, and evaluating prospects. At its heart, the combine is a networking event wrapped around the middle of the playoff calendar. Everyone who is anyone in the NBA is here, and even unattached evaluators roll through town for the annual meet and greet.

Reporters position themselves for a bump and a side chat with GMs and information is the only viable currency. Writers want to know what the GMs are going to do, GMs want to know more about the players, and the players want to protect their interests. The players (via their agents) have come to understand that their information is so valuable that much of is not worth disclosing at the combine. It all makes for an awkward dance.

What was notable, but not surprising, about this year’s combine was who wasn’t here. Markelle Fultz, the likely No. 1 overall pick had already skipped town after a handful of private meetings with teams. Lonzo Ball, Josh Jackson, and Jayson Tatum didn’t even show at all. De’Aaron Fox, Calipari’s latest point guard prodigy, was in attendance and agreed to be measured but talk to the press until Friday.

Tough break for the scribes scrounging for a story, but then Cal appeared and all was well in our world. Observing the impromptu scene gathering around the Kentucky coach, New Orleans coach Alvin Gentry asked Cal in his deadpan manner if he could get him a chair. No need, the man was in his element delivering a delightful 20-minute back-and-forth that was part recruiting bluster and part improv comedy act for the grateful gaggle.

Cal pitched his players, sold his program, and even invited a writer to call him if he wanted to come to Kentucky to see the Wildcat madness for himself. He sliced his distinctions so thick he left a vapor trail of pithy spin and sharp-elbowed one-liners.

“I would never lie, but I’m not tilting it,” Calipari said about his conversations with NBA people. “There may be information that I’m not going to give them, but I’ll never lie.”

How do you do that, Cal?

Nelson Chenault-USA TODAY Sports

“Have you ever been around me before?” he answered in mock seriousness to the writers who were clearly gathered around him. “You’d figure I’d have a way of doing it where nobody would be offended and they walk away saying, ‘What did he just say? Did he really say that? I don’t even know what he just said.’ Then they call me and I won’t pick up the phone.”

And if they lie to you about where one of your players might get picked?

“Then I won’t let them in the gym,” he shot back.

Cal held forth on Malik Monk: “Malik Monk is special, folks. Special.” He endorsed his big man Bam Adebayo — “I’ll be stunned if he’s not a lottery pick” — and made the case for Fox by casually reminding us that he also coached John Wall and Eric Bledsoe without so much as taking a breath in offering this breathless critique:

“I asked John Wall about that. I said, ‘John, is he as fast as you?’ He said, ‘Naaah. I asked Eric Bledsoe. He said, ‘Naaah.’ But he’s fast. Let me say this, John Wall uses his speed as a weapon. Wasn’t as good with the ball, scoring wise at that age. De’Aaron has floaters. He’s not a great 3-point shooter. Neither was John. John’s thing was ‘I’m going to that rim and I’m going to dunk on you.’ This kid didn’t use it as a weapon. The whole thing all season, sprint the ball for layups and when he did it was like, ‘Oh my god.’ He doesn’t view it as a weapon. Yet. When he views it as a weapon, it’s a wrap.”

Then there was the curious case of Hamidou Diallo, a preps-to-pros prospect who enrolled at Kentucky but didn’t play. Because he’s a year removed from his high school class, Diallo is eligible for the draft but he hasn’t signed with an agent yet and is keeping his options open.

Jasen Vinlove-USA TODAY Sports

Diallo wowed observers with his 44 1/2-inch vertical leap, but that’s just about all that anyone knows about the kid. Oddly enough, that may be his biggest advantage heading into the draft, along with that jaw-dropping vertical.

“Hami, they don’t know. Well, don’t show them,” Cal said. “They all like you right now without watching you. Good! The more you don’t play the more they like you, so don’t play! If someone takes him in the lottery, I will retire. There’s nothing more I can do. Four months, doesn’t play, lottery pick. I’m stopping.”

He’s not stopping, of course, not when he keeps churning out a steady supply of NBA prospects year after year. But then someone asked him the key question about this year’s combine. This week no less a figure than Kevin Durant suggested that the whole thing was a waste of time. Durant still harbors bad feelings about being embarrassed after he was unable to bench press 185 pounds a decade ago. There’s no way that in 2017 a player like Durant sets foot in Chicago, let alone subjects himself to a strength test.

“He may be right,” Calipari said. “For the guys if you think there’s anything here that will hurt you, don’t come. If there’s anything here that will help you, come. If you have to play to help yourself, come. If it doesn’t help you playing then don’t play. My job is to protect my guys. The job of these NBA teams is to get as much information as they can to get a great pick. So they would like to see every one of them play 5-on-5. It’s not the way it is for these kids.”

No, but then not everybody here is a top-5 pick and not everybody is a 5-star Kentucky recruit. For everyone else, which is most of the players here, this is a job audition. It’s the first step in a month-long evaluation process that will include countless meetings and coast-to-coast flights for individual workouts.

There are 30 guaranteed contracts on the line and 30 more opportunities after that to be chosen. The odds are stacked against many of these players having a career at all, let alone one that will endure. Emerge here with good measurables, solid play, and strong interviews and those odds can increase ever so slightly in their favor.

For a team with multiple picks, the combine is as good a chance to see these players up close. Nail these picks and a franchise’s fortunes can improve tremendously. Mess one up and it becomes that much harder to breakthrough in the future. So, yes, the combine still has value. It just depends on who you ask.

Stephen R. Sylvanie-USA TODAY Sports

Consider Ivan Rabb, a 6’10 sophomore from California who was part of a celebrated recruiting class that included Celtics’ forward Jaylen Brown. Viewed as a potential lottery pick last year in a weak draft, Rabb went back to school and is now looking at the latter half of the first round. No regrets, though.

“I thought I needed it,” Rabb said. “The plan is to stick in the league for a long time, not get there as soon as possible. So I feel like I made the best decision for me.”

He added a bit of range, but his numbers didn’t improve noticeably and the Bears had a disappointing season. Without the proven ability to stretch the floor, Rabb lacks an obvious offensive role in the NBA. But he can rebound and rebounding translates across all levels. This is a chance to tell his story and he came across as prepared and focused.

“I changed my mentality a lot,” Rabb said. “I’m way more mature off the court, being able to say no to people. And on the court just knowing how to work. I did before but now it’s on a whole different level. I think people don’t know I got better. I was doubled every game so it was hard to show what I can really do. Now when I get in a setting where I’m not being doubled I can showcase my game.”

Then there’s Justin Patton, a 7-footer from Creighton who grew from 6’2 to 6’9 before his sophomore season in high school and took a redshirt season while he grew into his body. If Rabb is poised and confident, Patton is endearingly earnest. He plans to wear a bowtie on draft night because, “It’s kind of my signature.”

Kyle Terada-USA TODAY Sports

Patton needed to be here because even though he’s viewed as a mid first-rounder, nothing in his basketball career has ever been guaranteed. He was barely recruited out of high school and as he noted, if he didn’t have that growth spurt he wouldn’t be here at all. His one season with the Blue Jays was a revelation, showcasing a long, skilled player doused with that magic pixie dust of upside.

“I wasn’t focused on anyone else,” Patton said. “I was just focused on coming here, getting better and putting my results in. It’s a good experience. I’ve never been through an experience like this. I have the chip on my shoulder because people didn’t think I was good enough. There’s still some doubt in people’s mind. My job is to do as best I can to eliminate everyone’s doubt.”

During his interview process, one team asked him what he would do if he was driving and came upon a yellow light. Would he put his foot on the gas or slow to a stop? “Depends on where I’m going” was his answer, which seemed like a clever enough response. (Pressed on which team asked the question, Patton gave up the Timberwolves to which the assembled Chicago writers answered on cue, “Thibs!”)

Even as the top prospects were nowhere to be found, the combine endures with all of its fixation on wingspans, vertical leaps, and shuttle run times. For players like Patton and Rabb it’s their showcase and their stage to make a lasting impression. I asked Patton what he learned about himself during that redshirt season and he had a great answer ready for that one, as well.

“My potential is unfathomable,” he said. “I can go as far as I want to go. I learned there’s really no limit. I learned I can be ready for this.”

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