Top of the Rock

I dropped off the bench, cut through the cracked doorway, and marched straight past yesterday's chalk line to the sidewalk fence. Wedged against the bottom of the chain link sat a full-sized outdoor basketball, covered in gritty black channels and worn rubber pebbles. No warm-up needed. I locked both hands into the deep rubber groove and hauled myself straight up the steep curve. My boots bit right into the pebbled grip. At the very top, I dropped into a low crouch, squared my shoulders, and held the balance while the ball creaked against the galvanized wire. Total control under pressure. You don't dodge the high ground—you take it.