The 8:50 Ballers

By Laticha P. James

The 850 Ballers - Come travel with Raphael, Biskit, Jessie, and Ronald. These fifth graders from a neighborhood basketball team will come to remember one special week. As they undergo the victory and the agony of defeat on the basketball court. Experience their first kiss, learn how to hustle for money, and even survive a drive-by. Growing up in South Central Los Angeles can be hard. Yet, even a stranger can become a Hero!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 18, 2012
• ISBN: 9781479746194

Laticha P. James

Latcha P. James is a retired Postal worker. Born and raised i South Cetral Los Angeles. She strongly believes whatever is inside you will come out sooner or later. At age 60 stil shooting for the moon! With her first Publishlished Book " The 850 Ballers."

Book preview

Copyright © 2012 by Laticha P. James.

ISBN:

Softcover  978-1-4797-4618-7

Ebook       978-1-4797-4619-4

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

123266

Contents

Chapter 1    Making The Finals

Chapter 2    Club 8:50

Chapter 3    Filed out

Chapter 4    Back In The Game

Chapter 5    He Scores

Chapter 6    Ballin With The Big Homies

Chapter 7    Take It To The Hoop

Chapter 8    Pass The Ball

Chapter 9    Big Baller

Chapter 10   Rebound

Chapter 11   Seconds On The Clock

Chapter 12   The 8:50 Ballers

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my wonderful grandchildren. Imarjoe R. Miller Jr is my oldest grandson and is the inspiration for me writing this book. To him I would like to say thank you. May the reflections of this story give each grandchild a lesson in Hope, Family Blessing, and True Friendship.

Enjoy!

BOOK SUMMARY

The 8:50 Ballers — Come travel with Raphael, Biskit, Jessie, and Ronald. These fifth graders from a neighborhood basketball team will come to remember one special week. As they undergo the victory and the agony of defeat on the basketball court. Experience their first kiss, learn how to hustle for money, and even survive a drive-by. Growing up in South Central Los Angeles can be hard. Yet, even a stranger can become a Hero!

CHAPTER 1

Making the finals was all we thought about this past week. Biskit had dreams about beating the Blue Book Team just like he had with the Libras. Whenever I dreamed about our team, all I had were nightmares. I didn’t want our team to know about the nightmares. How could I tell them that all I see in my dreams is our point guard Biskit sitting on the side lines with a broken arm. Biskit’s dreams gave us hope and pumped us up to win. We blew out the Unicorns and beat the Libras just like Biskit said. His real name is Benjamin Edward Turner Jr. but his mom nicknamed him Biskit because he always wanted one more biscuit for breakfast. For a fifth grader he was of average height and weight, but his long reach made it easy for him to shoot.

Biskit was part Jamaican on his father’s side just like Bob Marley. Bisket didn’t speak the Jamaican language, but he sure did sound like one sometimes. Especially when he’d say yah mon. Biskit was much darker than me, sort of a rich dark chocolate color, with long hair. Biskit’s mom would braid his hair but he preferred wearing his hair in a big afro puff. Biskit was especially thoughtful when it came to his family. He always had some goodies for his little sister, whether it was candy or bubble gum and whenever he left the house if no one was around, he’d leave notes for his mom saying, I love you at the end of each note. Biskit loved all of his family. Biskit also had a step-father who I think he loved just as much as I think any kid would love his own father. Biskit’s real dad died when he was a little boy. He doesn’t talk about it much but what I do know is that he was killed in a drive-by and wasn’t even a gang-banger. He was just a nice man who took care of his family. His friends use to call him Big Ben but his real name was Benjamin Edward Turner Sr., Biskit was named after his father

The story is that Big Ben stopped to help a friend change a tire and a spray of bullets hit him from behind, while trying to protect a child that was nearby. Biskit’s mom re-married later to a guy named Charles Golden, a truck driver for ikea. She met him at a wedding reception. She was the lucky lady who caught the bouquet. By luck, made her the next bride. Then she was blessed again, giving birth to a little girl. Biskit’s little sister he nick-named Rug Rat. He loves giving her horseback rides. Biskit was good at basketball and even better at baseball. The problem was we weren’t on a baseball diamond tonight, we were on a basketball court playing our hearts out to make the championship. Our plans were to beat the Blue Book team which wasn’t as easy as we thought. Ronald, their point guard lived right across the street from me with his grandmother. He was a whiz-kid and the best baller on his team, the rest lacked coordination which is why Biskit said we’d win the game. They were called the Blue Books because they always met at the library on 103rd street in Los Angeles. Afterwards they’d walk to Ted Watkins Park for practice. I could hear Ronald’s grandmother saying, yeah that’s my baby, as he tried to block every move I made. He reminded me of Harry Potter waving a magic wand. He balled hard and wanted to win too.

The house was packed with screaming fans. We ended up going into overtime playing against the Blue Book team. The clock was ticking and time was at hand, sweat from my forehead was rolling into my eyes and I couldn’t take the chance of wiping the drops of moisture, because Ronald was to close. Pass the ball Raphael, Biskit is open… quit hot doggin!!. I could hear these words being yelled at me. When I looked around he was open. I passed the ball to Biskit, who caught it. He turned, faking to run one way but ran the other. My eyes followed him like radar as my tired feet ran like a two year old. I could hear the fans screaming and yelling as he bounced the ball carefully to ensure no one stole it from him,. shoot! I screamed. Biskit stopped then aimed the ball at the basket. As he began to shoot his feet left the floor. The ball flew from his hand and Biskit froze in a ninja turtle position as his feet touched the court floor as