Around this time every year in high school, me and my best friend Mario would get the keys to Loyola’s gym from Coach Jackson.
During lunch we’d shoot free throws and see who could make the most in a row.
At night while our friends were at parties, we’d go to the gym and play a game we made up called Jimmy Cotton, where you could only advance to the next spot on the floor if your shot went through the hoop without touching the rim.
Basketball season had started, but we still couldn’t get enough of it. There
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