In the locker room we suited up, tightening our sneakers, adjusting our jerseys, and locking in for the game ahead. 12-2 on the season, we were feeling good.
We walked down the tunnel, the arena lights shining bright at the end of it. We jogged out onto the court for warmups.
The game started, and I was matched up with Giannis right away. First possession, he caught the ball at the top of the key, took one dribble, and lowered his shoulder into me.
Damn. This dude was strong.
He spun to his right, took another long stride, and tried to finish at the rim, but I got my hand up just in time contesting his layup. The ball bounced off the rim, and we ran in transition.
"Too easy!" I heard Giannis say, shaking his head as he jogged back on defense.
I grinned. "Then why'd you miss?"
He pointed at me. "Next time, I dunk." with his greek accent.
Midway through the first quarter, he tried to take me one-on-one.
He took a hard dribble left, spun back to his right, and went up strong. I got a hand on the ball, forcing a miss. He wanted a foul, but the ref let it go.
On the other end, I got the ball on the wing, took a jab step, and pulled up for a mid-range jumper over John Henson.
I clapped, feeling the momentum shift.
But Giannis wasn't fazed. Next possession, he came right back at me, took a long stride, and euro-stepped past me for a tough finish.
He grinned, jogging back on defense.
I just shook my head.
-Second Half
The game stayed tight through the third quarter. I was playing my usual game, scoring inside, making plays for my teammates, and rebounding. But Giannis was making me work, his length and defensive presence were affecting my shots more than usual.
By the fourth quarter, we started to take over. Derrick Rose was controlling the pace, getting into the paint, and Norman Powell hit a couple of big threes, Vucevic had a good defense, and so did I.
Final score: Magic 118-105.
-Post-Game Analyst Review
"Franklin Lincoln played a solid game, but if we're being honest, this was one of his tougher nights offensively." one of them said.
"Yeah, he finished with his usual stat line, but look at the shooting percentage—Giannis made him work for everything. This is one of the few matchups where Franklin couldn't completely dominate."
"And let's not forget, Giannis and Franklin are from the same draft class. Giannis has steadily improved every year."
-New York – December 25, 2015
Snow covered the streets of Upper West Side, the cold winter air cutting through the city, but inside, the warmth of family filled the house.
The living room was packed. My parents' place was full of life. This time Christmas was at my parents' house, my sister was there, my cousins, aunts, uncles, everybody was here. The smell of home-cooked food filled the air, a mix of soul food and Caribbean dishes that had my stomach growling before I even sat down.
I walked into the kitchen, where my mom was putting the final touches on dinner.
"You need help with anything, Mom?" I asked, leaning against the counter.
She turned and gave me that classic mom look. "Boy, the only thing you need to help with is fixing yourself a plate when it's ready."
I laughed. "Say less."
The kids were running around, hyped up from opening presents earlier in the morning. My younger cousins were glued to their new video games, arguing over who got next.
When the food was finally ready, we all gathered around. Turkey, mac and cheese, collard greens, cornbread, plantains, oxtail, it was a feast. My dad stood up, tapping his glass to get everyone's attention.
"Alright, before we dig in, I just want to say how blessed we are to all be together again. Family over everything."
We all raised our glasses and dug in.
After dinner, I sat back on the couch, just enjoying the moment.
Then, my aunt Nicole turned to me.
"Franklin, you could help my son from time to time. He wants to make it to the league one day too."
I raised an eyebrow, caught a little off guard.
"Which one is your son, Aunt Nicole?"
She pulled out her phone, checking her messages.
"He said he'll be here soon… Hold on."
A few minutes later, the front door opened. I turned to see who walked in, and my jaw almost dropped.
"Here's my son. His name is Donovan." my aunt announced proudly.
I looked up and saw Donovan Mitchell standing there.
I couldn't help but laugh, shaking my head as I got up to greet him. 'Man, you gotta be kidding me, he is my cousin. Of all people.'
After the initial surprise, we took a moment to properly introduce ourselves.
We started talking hoops, workouts, everything.
At some point, he pulled out his phone.
"Man, I gotta put this on insta. My boys are never gonna believe this."
I smirked. "Go ahead, let 'em know, Bro."
He snapped a quick selfie of us chilling in the living room and posted it on his story with the caption.
"How am I just now finding out Franklin Lincoln is my cousin?"
Not even two minutes later, his phone was blowing up with messages.
"Bro, my group chat is losing it right now." he laughed. "They're all like, 'Nah, no way, stop playing.'"
The night went on, just good vibes, good food, and plenty of laughs. Before he left, we exchanged numbers, making sure we could stay in touch.
"Yo, for real though." I told him, "if you ever need anything, advice, training tips, whatever, just hit me up."
He nodded. "I appreciate that, for real."
We dapped up one last time before he headed out.
As I sat back on the couch, I couldn't help but think, small world.
I spent the next few days at my parents' house, enjoying some real family time.
My sister and I caught up, talking about everything, life, her studies. But like all good things, the break had to end.
Before I knew it, it was time to head back to Orlando. The season wasn't slowing down, and neither could I.
"Safe flight, little bro." my sister told me as she hugged me goodbye.
"You know I got it, little sis." I smirked. "Tell Mom and Dad I'll call when I land."
I hopped into the car, heading for the airport.
Christmas was over.