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Post by Taylor Westin on Oct 31, 2012 21:55:33 GMT -6
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He had been dying for a workout. He quickly tugged on his white tank and black Adidas sweatpants over his black basketball shorts. He grabbed his iphone and headphones and put it in his pocket. Walking towards the door, he grabbed his hoodie, slipped his arms in and zipped it up. Chey was right under his feet, blocking the door. Come on Chey, move girl you know I gotta get my workout in! Bending down, he rubbed the dogs head and slipped out the door to hear whimpers from behind the locked door. He chuckled and jogged down the stairs.
He was too exited to get out of the room. He jogged briskly over to the gym. He walked in and saw the equipment and free weights. He smiled, took off his hoodie and pants and got to work. He started off on the treadmill to get his cardio up and then switched up to the free weights. He did low weights and high reps. He was looking to tone his already muscled form. Being in top-form was essential to being an eventer competitor.
The sweat began to bead and drip as he felt the low-intensity burn. He grimaced as he finished the final rep. Grabbing his towel he wiped his brow and took a swig of his water. Grabbing his other container he mixed up his protein shake and started to chug as he exited grabbing his extra clothes. He was cutting through the gym, when he saw the rack of basketballs and paused. He smiled and dropped hjis stuff on the sidelines, grabbed a ball and took a shot.
The ball bounced off the rim and back into his hands. He shook his head and readied himself to take another shot.
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Post by Cannon Eric Ryland on Oct 31, 2012 22:11:34 GMT -6
The late autumn wind would have chilled anyone else to the bone, but since he want anyone else, Can was out for his daily run. Since he wasn't currently playing a sport, he needed to stay in shape for Eventing, which meant a carefully planned out training schedule. Today was cardio/endurance, which meant running. He'd opted for that rather than stairs. Lets face it, who actually enjoys stairs? No one. Exactly.
Cannon was just finishing up his run when he came by the gym. To him, the gym was the equivalent of the Abercrombie and Fitch store, a place where he would always, no matter what the circumstances, feel the need to go into. He took one earbud out and let it dangle as he walked over and opened the door. He stepped inside wearing his black and green running shoes, black basketball shorts, and black beater. No matter if it were 100 or -100 degrees outside, he would always be found running in the same clothes. He saw someone on the courts and then noticed he had a basketball in his hands. Can, being a basketball addict, had to join him. He walked onto the courts, taking out his other earbud and wrapping them both around his iPhone, he called over to the guy. "You wanna okay some one-on-one?" He asked him, putting the phone in his pocket and walking over.
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Post by Taylor Westin on Nov 1, 2012 14:26:10 GMT -6
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Taylor paused mid-shot as he saw an equally tall guy coming in his direction and asked him about a game of one-on-one. Taylor smiled at the tall, dark haired player. He felt a spark of interest and dropped his hands and dribbled the ball from right to left, left to right.
One-on-one, eh? He took in the tall muscular build in and knew that this would be a fun game. He bounced the ball and checked it to the other guy an amused smile on his face. You're on. Half court. He backpedaled his frame in anticipation of the guys next move. His eyes were fixated and glued on the man's chest. Both stood at 6'2", both tanned, muscled and in shape. It was definitely going to be a fun game. If all went well, there might be the possibility here for a new friend. He'd have to remember to ask him for his name later...after he attempted to kick this guys butt in this friendly one-on-one. The thought made Taylor smile as he then got his head into the game.
He kept the weight light on his feet, ready to block whatever his rival had to send his way..he was eager to see how quick this guy was...
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Post by Cannon Eric Ryland on Nov 4, 2012 20:56:01 GMT -6
He saw the guy pause in his shot and turn to look at him, a smile on his face. Another competitive student? He sure hoped so. The boy started to dribble from side to side before he spoke, obviously pleased someone else was here to go up against. He looked about the same height as Cannon, which was a good thing. It meant they'd be evenly matched.
As soon as the ball was in Can's hands, the other boy started to back up, seeming to read into his movements and mirror them as he went. Can started to dribble the ball from left to right, studying the other player to see what it was he was going to do, and suddenly, as he knew the guy was leaning towards his right foot, about to shift his weight to the right foot, Cannon bolted, bouncing the ball as he went, flying past the other player and making his layup, all without skipping a beat. He knew the other guy wouldn't let that happen again, or at least he'd try. Can smiled as he jogged over to take his place where the other guy had been, letting him grab the ball and take it back to the halfway point.
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Post by Taylor Westin on Nov 6, 2012 22:02:34 GMT -6
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He cursed silently for leaving himself open like that, but at least now he knew the type of player he was up against. This guy was good. Good at reading and exploiting weaknesses, however momentary they were. His layup had been effortless and with ease. This guy had skill, but then so did he. He smiled an appreciating gesture toward the other, letting him know that he respected the other player and his skills, but now it was his ball...his turn.
He took the ball back to the line, his long legs traveling with ease. He turned back to face his opponent and checked the ball. Receiving it back he didn't wait a second to make his move. He made a direct charge, suddenly halted faked a left and slipped through the hole on the right, zooming in on the hoop with his eyes, he took the jump and double clutched the ball, switching the ball in his hands midair right into the hoop. He knew he wouldn't get that kind of fake again. He landed and grabbed the ball and checked it back to the other guy. He smiled....Glad that he'd already gotten his workout in. His blood and adrenaline were running and he couldn't stop smiling. This had to of been the most fun he'd had since being here at BRA....and it was a simple basketball game.
He hadn't played the game in a few months, but just like riding a bicycle it was all starting to come back to him, but he had a sneaky suspicion his opponent was better than him at this game...
He turned quickly on defense. This time he was sure to be on the balls of his feet and not the heels. Keeping his head up, eyes forward, he stretched his arms out with his palms up, but made sure to keep his elbows bent a little. His eyes locked in on the player’s belly-button. This guys was going to be hard to stay with and the belly button simply didn't lie.... he almost chuckled at the thought.
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Post by Cannon Eric Ryland on Nov 15, 2012 14:10:20 GMT -6
Can chuckled when he waited for the guy to get the ball back, obviously angry with himself for making that mistake, which they both knew he wouldn't make again. He was competitive, which was good, because Can was too.
He watched as his opponent dribbled back to the line, checked it to Cannon, and waited for it to return. Before he'd even released the ball, Cannon could sense this player was a coiled spring, waiting to be let loose, make its move. He cursed in his head as he released the ball back to him, and saw him come straight at him. His arms went up too slowly, which let his opponent get around him with ease, and cost him a point. He was okay with it, however, because now he was learning how this guy thought, what he would do next. He just had to be better at picking up on signals.
He went and grabbed the ball, taking it back to the line, all the while thinking about what way to go, how to do so, and how to trick him into thinking about something else. Once back, he checked it to him. Upon receiving it back, he waited a bit, moving slowly forwards, dribbling close to his side, away from the other player, keeping it closer than normal. Suddenly, he lunged forward, to the player's left, the first step into a bolt, but stopped right then and there, planting his feet and taking his shot, having jumped before the other player could react, and made his shot off the backboard.
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