I was 16 then. Representing my school in a prestigious inter-school basketball tournament. We reached the finals. We were playing against 'arch-rivals' St. Xavier's Loyola.
Was a tough game. Not because we were down in the dumps. But because strangely it turned out a very low scoring game and the scores were always neck-to-neck.
It was 22-20 in favor of our opponents. About a minute or little more left. Was good at 3-pointers with a fair bit of accuracy. The ball was in my hands. I told my team-mates I'll take the shot. Arrange it so that I can take a 3-point shot.
We dribbled our way to the opposite court and I was in position and unmanned. And as planned, I got the pass. I saw the 'sharpest' shooter of our team also standing unmanned and in position at the pivot. In the split second, my mind said he probably has a better chance of making the basket (even if we got just 2 points the scores would be level).
I passed the ball to him. He took the shot. He missed it. There was a shuffle near the basket. We lost possession. My friend said, "Why didn't you take the shot?" I said, "He had a 'better' chance of making it, I felt". I justified to myself saying I did it for the benefit of the team.
We managed to gain one more point in the remaining time. We lost 22-21.
I didn't take the shot. I did play basketball after that. But perhaps didn't consider myself good enough to play at any higher level or in any other final.
The deal isn't so much about winning or losing. Sure winning matters a lot. But importantly, it's about taking a chance, seizing the opportunity, trying your hand. One shot – the difference between hope and despair.
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