Friday Afternoon Work

The final bell rang, and the sound of students rushing through the hallways filled the air. Friday had finally arrived, and with it, the promise of the weekend. Most kids were excited to relax, hang out, or play video games, but for Lucas, Friday meant one thing—training.

He grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder, making his way toward the exit of Lincoln Park Middle. As he stepped outside, Miguel and Jaylen were already waiting for him by the front steps.

Miguel stretched his arms above his head. "Finally! A whole two days without being trapped in this place."

Jaylen smirked. "You say that like we're not gonna be back in three days."

Miguel groaned. "Don't remind me."

Lucas chuckled as he adjusted his bag. "You guys heading home?"

Jaylen nodded. "Yeah, my legs are still dead from yesterday's practice. Coach is gonna run us into the ground next week."

Miguel pointed at Lucas. "What about you? You actually gonna do something fun?"

Lucas shrugged. "I'm heading to the park. Gonna get some shots up."

Miguel's eyes widened. "Bro, it's Friday!"

Lucas smirked. "And?"

Jaylen chuckled. "You really never stop, huh?"

Lucas shook his head. "Nope."

Miguel let out a dramatic sigh. "Man, you're gonna turn into a machine at this rate."

Lucas grinned. "That's the plan."

Miguel threw up his hands. "Alright, alright, go be great or whatever. I'm gonna go home and sleep."

Jaylen fist-bumped Lucas. "Don't work too hard. See you Monday."

Lucas nodded before setting off toward the park.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting an orange glow over Harrison Park, a local spot where kids and older players alike came to hoop. The courts were already buzzing with activity—groups of kids playing pickup, teenagers practicing free throws, and a few older guys watching from the sidelines, waiting for their turn.

Lucas set his bag down by a bench and unzipped it, pulling out his ball. He took a deep breath, soaking in the atmosphere.

This was his space.

No teachers. No distractions. Just the game.

He dribbled the ball a few times, feeling its familiar weight in his hands. His NBA System stats flashed through his mind. He wasn't strong enough yet. His shot wasn't automatic. His handles needed to be sharper.

Time to fix that.

Lucas started with form shooting—the foundation of every great shooter. He stood close to the rim, focusing on perfect mechanics, making sure his wrist snapped forward smoothly.

10 makes from each side of the hoop

10 makes from the free-throw line

10 makes from midrange

After warming up, he stepped back beyond the arc and started working on his three-point shot.

His Catch & Shoot badge gave him a slight edge, but he wasn't satisfied. He wanted his shot to feel effortless.

He took 50 three-pointers, tracking his percentage in his head.

First 10: 2/10 – Not good enough.

Next 10: 4/10 – Still inconsistent.

Last 30: 12/30 – Better, but not automatic.

Lucas exhaled, shaking out his arms. His legs were starting to burn a little, but he wasn't done yet.

Next, he focused on his handles. His dribbling had improved slightly, but he still felt too loose under pressure.

Pound Dribbles (3 sets of 30 seconds each hand)

Figure Eights (3 sets, keeping the ball low)

Crossover & Attack (3 sets of 10 reps, exploding into a drive after the move)

His hands burned from the constant dribbling, but he welcomed the feeling. This is how you get better.

Lucas wiped sweat from his forehead and moved to the basket. His strength rating was low, and he wasn't finishing through contact well enough.

He set a goal: 25 makes from different finishing spots.

Right-hand layups (10 makes)

Left-hand layups (10 makes)

Floaters (5 makes from different angles)

He forced himself to go game speed, imagining defenders in front of him. Every rep had to matter.

As he finished his final layup, he heard a voice behind him.

"Yo, you been out here all day?"

Lucas turned to see Dante Owens, one of his teammates from school. He was a 5'4" wing, mostly a shooter but still developing other parts of his game.

"Not all day," Lucas said, bouncing the ball. "Just working."

Dante walked up, nodding in approval. "Man, you serious about this."

Lucas shrugged. "Gotta be. You trying to get some shots up?"

Dante grinned. "Why not? Let's see what you got."

For the next hour, they went at it.

1-on-1 drills – Lucas worked on his step-back and off-the-dribble shooting.Shooting competitions – First to 10 makes from three (Lucas won 10-7).1-on-1 game to 7 – Dante hit a few tough jumpers, but Lucas pulled it out 7-5.

Dante let out a long breath, shaking his head. "Bro… you don't stop."

Lucas grinned. "That's the point."

Dante nodded. "I respect it, man. We're gonna need you to be like this in the season."

Lucas picked up the ball, spinning it in his hands. Yeah. He knew that already.

As Lucas sat on the bench, feeling the ache in his muscles, he thought back to everything that had led him to this moment. The tournament loss, the first week of school, the way his stats in the NBA System were barely inching forward. It wasn't enough. He needed to do more.

He clenched his fists. If I want to be the best, I have to train like it. No excuses. No shortcuts.

Dante nudged him. "You good?"

Lucas exhaled and nodded. "Yeah. Just thinking."

Dante laughed. "Man, even when you're sitting still, you're working. You got that Mamba Mentality or something? You ever think about just… chilling?"

Lucas smirked. "Not really."

Dante chuckled. "Didn't think so."

Lucas smirked but didn't answer. The truth was, he didn't just want to be good. He wanted to dominate. To reach a level where no one could ignore him.

As the park lights flickered on, Lucas grabbed his bag and stood up. Tomorrow, he'd be back. And the next day. And the next.