The League

by Za Raapini

We Call This 'Doin' Work'

As Dunk came to the Bridles Center the next morning, he was greeted with glares from the rest of the players. He supposed that most of them were still mad about the seemingly endless amount of suicides they had run the other day. Nothing I can do about that. Just gotta keep going for mine, Dunk thought.

As he approached his locker however, he did find one thing that he was regretting. Pasta would have tasted so much better last night.

000

“Let’s go, let’s go! Grind these out! We got a lot to do today! I don’t wanna spend all of it watching you run up and down my court!” Comet shouted. They had wasted no time getting right back into it, and Dunk thought about what they might work on after the warm-ups were complete. Surely there would be more to this tryout than basic drills.

Tweet!

“Gather round! Gather round! Alright, today we’re gonna have you guys run some offensive and defensive drills. Play hard defense, but don’t try to hurt a pony. Just work hard and keep focus. Five of you on the offense to start, five of you on the defense to start. I’ll have you switch out in a bit. Start off with two-on-two, looking for pick-and-rolls and slash-and-kick threes. If you’re not up, work on ball control,” Comet said as a trainer wheeled out the basketballs.

Clearly Dunk had been mistaken. More mindless drills… this is the same stuff I’ve been doing for the last ten years, Dunk thought. He lined up for offense and started handling the ball. Years of playing made his movements on his hind legs fluid, movements that his defender just didn’t have a chance of picking up.

Dunk beat his pony on a crossover, then drove the lane for an easy layup. A good start he thought.

Tweet!

Thought apparently being the key word here.

“Dunk, what the hell was that?” Comet yelled as he walked over to Dunk. The entire gym froze as ponies stopped and stared at what was transpiring.

“I’m not sure what you mean, sir,” Dunk said, choosing his words carefully. He didn’t want to lose his shot due to not following Comet’s bizarre standards.

“Looks to me like you just beat your pony off the dribble and scored a layup. I’m going to ask you a really simple question, maybe a couple of questions. See if you can keep up,” Comet said.

“Here’s the first question. Is beating your pony off the dribble and then scoring a layup what I asked the ball-carrier to do?” Comet asked.

“No sir,” Dunk replied, shifting awkwardly. He didn’t like where this was going.

“No? Then what did I ask you to do? Pretend I don’t play basketball and that you’re better than me, because clearly you are, given how my instructions were basically ignored,” Comet said.

“You asked me to set a pick or to penetrate and kick the ball outside,” Dunk said.

“Now, do we set a pick as a ball carrier? Seems counter-productive doesn’t it. You there! Up Tempo, why wouldn’t the ball carrier set a pick?” Comet said.

“Because he has the ball?” Tempo responded.

“Exactly! You already have the ball, why would you be the one setting the pick Dunk? Is this some new strategy that I’m not aware of? Did you graduate with a major in jams and a minor in basketball offense? Please, enlighten me as a to why an undrafted rookie thinks he’s so much goddamn better than the pony running the tryout for the team he’s trying to make. Fucking enlighten me,” Comet said.

Dunk stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say or do. Comet obviously expected some type of response, but what could possibly be said?

“Nothing, huh? You got nothing? All the trash you talk, the way you carry yourself, you ain’t got nothing to say for yourself? Laps. Hind leg. Now. The rest of you keep doing your drills,” Comet said as he turned and walked away.

As Dunk started his laps, and the rest of the ponies started back up with the drills, he could feel everyone’s eyes boring a hole into him, silently judging him. He shrugged it off and kept going. He would show that he was better than this.

Once again he notice Soft Touch looking at him with the same goofy look on his face, like all of this was supposed to happen. Dunk didn’t like it and made a mental note to talk to him about it after the tryout session.

Basketball has always been my thing, I like Magic, Bird, and Bernard King, went the song in Dunk’s head. His legs were killing him, even with his patented workout song going in his head. But he knew he had to keep going. I’m not going to show them weakness, Dunk thought. He couldn’t.

After what felt like hours, Dunk was running on fumes. He glanced over at the drills being run as he continued his laps. They were still doing pick-and-rolls. Still! As much as Dunk hated being singled out, a small part of him was glad he wasn’t doing the drills. He’d never been a fan of the pick-and-roll. Nopony he had ever played with had set a good screen for him.

Eventually, he’d abandoned it in favor of beating his pony off the dribble. It was faster, and it was more fun, at least in Dunk’s opinion.

“Dunk!”

Dunk immediately stopped and looked to where the call had come from. Comet was staring at him with a rather vague look on his face.

“What the fuck are you doing still running laps? Get your flank in line, run some damn drills!” he shouted.

What does this dude want from me? I’ve been running laps for forever, my hooves are swollen, my joints are aching. This asshole… Dunk thought.

As Dunk jogged over to get in line, he stole a glance over at Comet and the rest of the staff. Something was up, and Dunk was determined to find out what it was.

“Making all sorts of friends, aren’t we?” Touch said to Dunk as he got in line.

“Shove it. I’m not in the mood,” Dunk replied.

“Aw, and I thought we had something special going on. You’re breaking my heart, Dunk. How were the laps?” Touch said.

“Exhausting. I don’t know how he expects me to be able to handle the ball on these drills,” Dunk said.

“Here’s an idea. A shocking one, but an idea. How about this? I handle the ball, you set the pick for me?” Touch said.

As tired as Dunk was, he couldn’t quite fathom not setting up the offense. It was what he was good at. He looked at Touch with a quizzical expression.

“You’re suggesting that me, one of the most dynamic scorers in college, high school, and the prep leagues before all of that, not handle the ball and set up a screen for you?” Dunk said.

“Yeah! It’ll be fun. Think of it as something new to master and add to your game, because spoilers you’re not always going to run the plays at this level. Especially not as a rookie,” Touch said.

“Whatever. Let’s give it a shot I guess. Doubt I can even handle the ball right now. My hooves are killing me,” Dunk said.

As they finished talking, their turn in the drill came up. They took their spots on the court, and waited for the whistle to start the drill.

“Let’s see if you can manage this without screwing up, Dunk!” Comet shouted.

Manage this you pompous prick, Dunk thought.

As Touch started his dribble, Dunk began moving. Touch was starting near half-court, taking his movements as slow as he could manage. Dunk looked at the defense and realized what he was doing almost immediately. He was baiting the defense, trying to get them to rise up and commit to something.

Dunk looked at Touch and got a barely perceptible nod from him. Dunk took this as the moment the drive was happening.

As Touch charged the lane, Dunk moved in to set the screen. Beautiful.

Dunk moved around his pony and saw Touch feeding him the ball.

Time to give them a little something special Dunk thought. Dunk stood, caught the pass, and took his leap.

As he flew towards the rim, he stole a quick glance at his defender. Sorry buddy. You were just too slow. Dunk drove the bucket home with force and dropped down, feeling better right then and there than he had in weeks.

He ran over to Touch and give him a bump.

“Nice feed man! That was pretty good right there,” Dunk said.

“Imagine that, you didn’t even run the play and you still got to score some points. We keep working on that, ain’t a defense in the league that’ll stop that,” Touch said.

Dunk smiled, caught up in the moment. Maybe Touch was the player he’d been waiting for his whole life. They had only had the one day together, but there was already a great chemistry going. Something that just couldn’t be taught or drilled in.

Dunk was looking forward to playing alongside Touch. He was really looking forward to it.

000

It was finally over. One of the most grueling weeks Dunk had ever been experienced was coming to a close. Six days of endless amounts of running, pick and rolls, fast breaks, low post plays, and the weirdest zone defense Dunk had ever seen was done. It was time to see who made the cut.

He looked at the gathering of players in the locker room. Seven of them would be going home today, watching the season from their couch instead of playing it on the court. Dunk could only hope that his work during the tryouts had been impressive enough to earn a roster spot.

The tension in the room was thick, and Dunk saw more than a few angry glances come his way, but there was a small amount of nervous conversation as well. Dunk spotted Soft Touch and walked over to him.

“Sup dude,” Touch said as Dunk came up.

“Not much. Couldn’t sleep worth anything last night. I was too nervous over this,” Dunk said.
Touch laughed, and Dunk found himself getting angry at him. How could he laugh at something as big as this?

“Dude, you worry too much. If your break doesn’t come this year, it’ll come soon enough. You just gotta roll with this stuff man. Basketball is what we do. It’s not who we are,” Touch said.

Dunk snorted and rolled his eyes. As good as Touch was, he was just too lax about this stuff. He needs to apply himself more… he could dominate the league if he just took things the way they were meant to be taken, Dunk thought.
All the talking instantly stopped, and that could only mean one thing. Comet was here.

“Alright, listen up. I’m proud of all of you for all the effort you put in this week. No matter whose names I call off, know that you guys all gave it your all, and it wasn’t easy to come up with the three we need. Whatever happens, you are all great basketball players. This doesn’t change that,” Comet started.

“Slam Dunk, welcome to the Kickers. You’ve still got a long way to go, but the improvements we saw this week are enough to have you on the roster for at least training camp. Good job,” Comet said.

Yes! Yes! Yes! Dunk thought. All the effort had been worth it, and he was one step closer to claiming his legacy.

Won’t mean as much if Touch doesn’t make it on too. He did kinda help me find my stride these past few days, Dunk thought.

“Cross Over, welcome to the Kickers. I’ve never seen a pony with the moves you’ve got, but you still need to work on your passing and rebounding skills. Still, same thing as Dunk. You’re on the roster for at least training camp. Good job,” Comet said.

Cross Over is good and all, but his moves? Man, I’ve seen better stuff in prep school, Dunk thought.

Dunk was just waiting on one last name. He hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed. With Dunk setting the screens for Touch they had been unstoppable in practice —not a single pony had managed to prevent them from scoring, and they had even incorporated a ridiculous amount of passes out to the corners for easy buckets.

“Last, but not least, Soft Touch, welcome to the Kickers. Your passing is some of the most incredible stuff I’ve ever seen, it’s like watching Losino Bird again. Just work on your shot and you’ll be alright,” Comet said.

All right! Dunk thought. The gang is all here then.

“You three, go home, get some sleep. Seven am Tuesday, buses are leaving for training camp. You’ll need to be there early to load all the gear. Rest of you, once again, thanks for coming out. Keep in shape, keep working at it. The EBL season is long and unpredictable. You never know if a team will need to sign you to an emergency contract,” Comet said.

With that, it was done. It had taken a bit longer than expected, but Dunk was on a team. For the time being at least. He thought back to what Top Dollar had said to him when they first got to LA, about having to constantly sell yourself.
Shouldn’t be too hard, not with Touch rocking it with me. EBL won’t know what hit ‘em, Dunk thought.

“Yo, Dunk! Looks like we made it,” Touch said as ponies began shuffling out of the locker room.

“Yeah! You ready for this training camp?” Dunk asked.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, dude. When this next two weeks is over, you’re gonna be wishing you was back here running laps for doing a layup,” Touch said.

“I ain’t seen nothing yet? Dude, they ain’t seen nothing yet. We got this,” Dunk said.

Touch merely smiled and walked away. Dunk thought about asking him if he wanted to work on some things, or hang out, but decided against it. Touch needed some time to let this hit him, and Dunk needed some sleep.

000

I think I’ll give Pops a call tomorrow. I don’t even think I’d be able to stay awake long enough for him to pick up, Dunk thought as he entered his hotel room. Truth be told, Dunk hadn’t even talked to anyone on his way back from the arena. He had been hit with a curious mixture of excitement and exhaustion. Sleep was definitely the drill he was about to run.

As he lay down and closed his eyes, his thoughts turned once again to training camp. Thus far, all of his competition had been rookies, ponies in the same boat as him. He was excited to test himself against veterans and earn a permanent spot on the roster.

He was excited to be one step closer to achieving his dream.

As those thoughts washed over him, he drifted off into blissful sleep.

Comments

[Za Raapini]

Anyone else notice how it took me four chapters to get to something that was explained in the summary?

[WildStallion]

Is ok if I play the song "Space Jam" in my head? because that is what is going in my head

[LimeAttack]

Nice update. I'm feeling a late wake-up coming.

[The Apphole]

1461918

Nope. You did it quite well, however.

[ArkNoMane]

Four decent and necessary chapters.
All in all, the writing is good, and I've seen it improve. No specifics, but it could be a smidgemeter better.

Are the Kickers based on the Clippers real life roster? If it is, I sense a Slam Dunk and Pony!Blake Griffin rivalry. Which would be awesome.

[gshep14]

1479754 I think he's supposed to be Blake Griffin, and Soft Touch is an expy of Chris Paul. I'm not the author, but that's my guess.

[Effercon]

1613262

A ponified Lob City?

I'm more than okay with that.

[Za Raapini]

Hey guys. Chapter 5 should be done soon. School has been pretty busy lately, and a lot of other IRL stuff has caught up to me. Happy trails, and stay classy.

[hellslayer2000]

this must be finished!

[Little_Pip]

This story needs an update, its to awesome to not be continued.