A jersey was received, printed freshly and neatly with the letters “NYC” and the number “22”- two things are such a meaningful part of the identity of the individual it was handed to. The shorts were next and they match the jersey perfectly. Next was a bag, a sweatshirt, and a meal card which held the promise of free food after the game.

The gym started to fill now as players, coaches, parents, fans, and media all began to filter in. Everyone was here for the same purpose, to watch the show that was about to begin. They wanted to be a part of a big moment in one way or another. And today, this “show” was a big moment in many different ways. It was a fundraiser on one hand, as this is how the game even became a thought. Its victor would hold bragging rights as the kids from New York City would battle the kids from Long Island/Hudson Valley. It held a crown as the MVP would be considered “queen of New York.” And lastly, it held judgment. Judgment as to whether or not someone who was suddenly forced to put their strength, ability, passion, and skill on hiatus for six months would be able to jump in today, for the first time, and compete as they did in the past.

The preparation began - a locker room was assigned, team mates started to stroll in, the coach was spotted. The new uniform was draped over a body that had missed this moment of preparation so much. Jewellery was removed; blonde hair that had been frosted red at the tips was tied up neatly like it had been so many times before. Protection was put on knee pads, spandex shorts, and two ankles were properly taped by a skilled athletic trainer. Two fresh sneakers that had been waiting months to get their opportunity to run, jump, and slide in a real game were tied tight and then Velcroed at the ankles.

Walking out of the locker room, the music was pumping, the stands were now filled. The sweet, soothing feeling of walking into an empty gymnasium had now vanished and the amazing, intense feeling of a big moment had finally set it.

The New York City team went through the traditional photo shoot; trying to look as pretty and professional as women you would see walk onto the court of a Women’s National Basketball Association game. Stretching began with the serious girl who needed to put her lifestyle on hiatus for months as the understood leader. This was familiar ground as the evil injury had imbedded proper stretching techniques deeply into her conscience. After ample stretching, there was one thing left to do. The newly repaired knee needed to be treated and babied as it was its debut, its initial return to a passionately missed lifestyle. Many creams were applied to the scarred area and then rubbed in well minutes later a feeling of deep heat penetrated through the skin and into the knee region. It was now game time.

The basketballs were rolled out in a squeaky yellow cage that had held the most important tool to the passion of girls and boys for many years. Lay-up lines began as the music served as a tranquilizer. Shot after shot, rebound after rebound this knee that had been busted and bruised six months prior was flying and soaring, landing with incredible stableness, a feeling that was so deeply missed. However, warm-ups serve no justice in explaining how the actual game felt. Hearing the familiar name called out as one of the five starters, the announcer forgot to mention one slight thing. This name had not been called out, or seen on a roster in the past six months. This was a fresh start.

The game began and it felt as if the hiatus never existed. As if the period of absence was a dream, something that hadn’t taken place – it must have been everyone’s imagination. Every time the ball touched the hands of the girl wearing the navy “NYC 22” jersey it was like magic.

Draining shot after shot, snatching steals, and flying for rebounds the excitement and familiarity built. This mind state had been visited before, these spectators had seen this girl perform, the media had written and reported many times of her ability this was just proof. The proof that it was possible for her to return with the same energy and ability that she had left with. The proof that the scalpel and the permanent two inch reminder of pain and suffering on her left knee do not have the ability to depress someone as strong as she is. This was also the proof that a big moment is only as big as the person involved. With pride and accomplishment she finished an impressive game. Indeed, she put on a show, a show she was told she would not be able to act in with the same speed, grace, ability, and poise as the snowy February night when she had gone down. Hoping to be an inspiration and an idol to a dear friend sidelined with the exact knee injury she suffered, to the many young kids in the stands that will unfortunately have to suffer through her injury one day, and to the people that believed in her and waited anxiously for her return, she smiled as the buzzer sounded. Another big moment had passed, and another successful moment as well.

The Big West Conference was formed in the mid 1960's and is one of the major National Collegiate Athletic Association Division I conferences. It is the only conference with all it's member institutions in one state.

Today, archery is still practiced around the world. Archery has been an Olympic sport, on and off since 1900, the sport has grown in popularity over the years. Although the technology has advanced the equipment and the rules have changed somewhat over the years, the sport of archery has been essentially the same.

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