Little Happy Clouds

Wiping his goggles as he nervously scanned the crowd for his old man, Kurt found himself in a familiar position. Lonely.

Star forward on his high school team, everyone in the building knew it was time for him to take over. Down by 12 entering the 4th quarter, it was up to Kurt to start filling it up. And after a fruitless survey of the crowd, Kurt yet again knew he had to go it alone.

A slash from the wing. Bucket.

Corner three. Splash.

Pick and roll. And one.

All told Kurt rang up 37 in a come from behind victory over rival Cedar Prep. Another game, another MVP scoring performance. Kurt rushed home after the game, flew into the house and found his father reading the paper in his easy chair after a long day on the line at the local meat packing plant.

"Pops, you shoulda seen it! I couldn't miss." Kurt excitedly recounted. "They tried to stop me, but I was on fire!"

Kurt's father peered over the paper, clearly underwhelmed.

"Yeah?" He asked. "How many boards you grab?"

Kurt died that day. And Rambis was born.