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Today could be the last time I walked into this locker room, or just the end of a lit ass season. I brought that championship ring back home to the LA Vipers for the fifth time in six years. I’d spent ten years on this team. Now, my contract was up, and I was officially a free agent.

I sat in my truck, watchin’ two niggas with their cameras out, waitin’ for me to open my door. This shit here was somethin’ I never got used to. Somebody always in my face. Lights constantly flashin’. Made a nigga want to do somethin’ to ’em. I pulled my duffle over my shoulder and hopped out, slowin’ down so they could ask their questions, and I could leave in peace.

“Juvie! Juvie! Just a few seconds of your time, man. We hear you’re a free agent now. What do you plan to do? Staying home with the Vipers?” one of them asked.

“Yeah. I heard you already have offers! Big ones. Chicago Breeze, Houston Heat! Give us something,” the other one said.

“I’m free, but LA is home. My loyalty is to them first. Anything after that ain’t my business ’til I sit down with my agent.” I moved faster toward the door, lookin’ at security.

“So, no decision? If the money is good, would you leave LA?” the first one asked.

I stopped, then turned around with a half-grin. “My money gon’ be right, regardless. Whatever decision I make will be best for me. Make yo’ day prosperous.”

That was the nicest way I could tell them to get the fuck out my face. They took the hint and walked away. I nodded, brushin’ past security and walkin’ down the hall to the locker room. It was already live in that bitch. Music loud, bottles of champagne poppin’. We always closed out the season just like this. Cheap champagne and sweat hung thick in the air, mixed with somebody’s cologne turned up way too strong for a room this small.

As soon as I stepped through the door, I tossed my duffel and jumped right in, grabbin’ a bottle. “Trophies” by Drake blasted through the speakers. My nigga Don dapped me and pulled me in the middle of the huddle.

“Give the superstar his mothafuckin’ diamonds! Took us to the top for a fifth time. Nigga, we onnat!”

The whole locker room started roarin’. Teammates pullin’ me back and forth. Don stood off to the side with a lazy grin, ’cause he knew what he was doin’. He got them fired up and took the attention off the fact that I was a free agent. The whole team kept askin’ what my next move would be. Times like this made it hard for me to think this could be my last time wit’ my niggas. This was my family. I spent real time with them. We got money, ran through bitches, partied, and laid each other’s families to rest. Shit, some of these niggas cried on my fuckin’ shoulder. Walkin’ away wouldn’t be somethin’ small.

“Somebody turn that music down!” Coach Les hollered, comin’ through the locker room.

The music cut. Everybody stood around, breathin’ hard, and turned their attention to him.

“The season is over,” Coach Les said, lookin’ around at all of us. “But I want to reflect on what we’ve done as a team. I’m proud of each and every one of you. You all are the reason I walk on that field, no matter how I feel inside. We’ve done something that many teams don’t get the chance to see. In our history, nine championships, but the team I’ve led, five! More than half of what the franchise has done as a whole.”

He turned to me and folded his arms across his chest, smilin’. “With that said, Juvie, your growth is one of my favorite stories to tell. The way you lead your team, your mentorship, and your perseverance. You are invaluable. Now, that’s not to say you didn’t have a rough start, but it’s where you are now that I admire most. So, drink a little and party, but pack up this damn locker room and get out before we shut it down. Congratulations, gentlemen!”

What Coach didn’t know was that Rue was creepin’ behind him with a bottle of champagne. The cork popped off, and before he could turn around, Rue poured it over his head.

“God damn it, Rue! I should have known it was you!” Coach was drownin’ in it, wipin’ his face.

“Congrats, Coach! Come outside. We got a surprise for you,” Rue said with a sneaky-ass smirk.

Coach turned around, eyes squinted ’cause he knew we were up to somethin’. “What have you all done? I’m too old for bullshit, fellas.”

“Let’s go outside, old head.” I wrapped my arm around his shoulder. “Just a lil’ somethin’ to show our appreciation.”

He let me drag him outside, laughin’ the whole way. When the doors pushed open, an all-black Phantom with a green bow sat outside. Coach looked at me, shocked, then back at the team, mouth wide open.

“You sneaky little shits!”

We cracked the fuck up, watchin’ him move toward the car. He opened the door and sat in the driver’s seat, hype as hell. His mouth said one thing, but the smile on his face told us what it really was. Coach deserved this. He worked hard, and he looked out for us. Most of us needed therapy, but we got it for free from him. He was sturdy like that. These wheels were just somethin’ small in comparison to what he gave us daily.

He shook his head, lookin’ back at us. “You know, I always say I don’t care about gifts. All of you are a gift in itself. But damn it if this isn’t a smooth ass ride. Tracy’s gonna love this. This team means a lot to me.”

He hopped out, huggin’ us one by one, savin’ me for last. The crooked smile on his face said I was caught. He knew I planned this surprise.

“You did good, kid.”

“You deserve that. Tell these cheap mufuckas to start payin’ you more.”

He cocked his head to the side. “That’s the Juvie I met right there. Keep him with you no matter where you go.”

“I hear you, Coach.”

“Let’s get the hell outta here.”