Every friend group has a story or two like this one, right? Something that seems like it should be fiction except you are all already well aware of the story or there’s evidence to prove it’s all a hundred percent true.
The text thread with four of my high school basketball teammates — also four of my oldest and best friends — has a couple of them like that. For instance, we all remembered a kid who was a grade behind us in school: skinny, good jumper, good handle, wore a puka-shell necklace every day. We played a lot of hoops with the kid from the fall of 1982 through the spring of ’83.
But that was that. He transferred out after two years. We all lost touch with the skinny kid.
Except one day, years later, my buddy “Hammer” called me.
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