The Sprout
Flu Game
By Daniel Gallegos
“Three…Two…One!” I counted down out loud and then shot the basket. As it went in off the backboard I threw my arms in the air like I had just won a championship game. As I dribbled around the backyard court preparing to repeat my little end-of-the-game routine, I heard my mom’s voice yell from the porch, “Daniel! Come inside its starting.” I glanced down at my Batman watch, confirming the time, and hurried inside. That day was the last day of school, and I had spent the first couple of hours of summer vacation in the backyard shooting hoops. What made the fact that it was the last day of school even more important to me was that it meant I was allowed to stay up late that night.
The date was June 11th, 1997. It would be a night I would end up remembering the rest of my life. As I grabbed a Gatorade from the fridge, I found my place on the couch next to my mom and my cousin and took a seat. It was game time. Not just any game though, game five of the NBA finals. For the past year or so I had developed a love for the game of basketball and the NBA. Earlier that year, I had gotten my first basketball and a hoop in my backyard as birthday gifts. My favorite player at the time was none other than the iconic Michael Jordan. That night would be my first chance to see him in the finals live for an entire game, and what a game it would be.
Jordan’s team, the Chicago Bulls, was facing off in a best of 7 series against the Utah Jazz. The Bulls had won the first two games, and then the Jazz had taken the next two. I remember my mom mentioning to me that Jordan might not even play that night because according to the news, he was sick. “Jordan has the flu Danny, I’m not sure if he’s going to be there tonight” she reported to me. I don’t know why, but I just had a feeling that he would play. Sure enough as the game began Jordan came out on the court and the announcers explained that he was definitely suffering from a flu-like illness, but had decided to play.
The negativity in my home began in the first quarter of the game. Both my mom and cousin made remarks on how Jordan did not look right. My family members were not Bulls fans, or Jazz fans, just fans of Jordan like I was. That is why it made me upset that they would doubt him so easily. Early in the second quarter the Jazz were up 36-20. I saw him struggle but I told myself he would be fine. Early in the second quarter the Jazz were up 36-20. Then, it happened. Jordan hit a shot, then another, then another. I was getting up so often in that quarter I looked like I was doing some type of strange exercise. The remarks of him being “too sick” were no longer filling the room. The Bulls went into halftime with the lead and I had a grin on my face that said it all. Halftime was no place for “I told you so” but I was six years old so I said it a couple times anyway.