The Bayview Junior Hoops clubhouse sat just off the main road; its brick façade painted in the team's deep navy and gold. A mural of past championship teams stretched across one wall — players frozen mid-jump shot, medals hanging from their necks, smiles wide.
Malik and Darius stepped inside with gym bags slung over their shoulders. The faint scent of polished wood and sports tape hung in the air. Behind a glass door sat Coach Anderson's office. Inside, the walls were lined with framed photographs, trophies, MVP plaques, and yellowed newspaper clippings — some with Coach Anderson himself in the headlines.
They exchanged a quick glance — not blown away but definitely impressed.
"Ah, you're finally here," Coach Anderson said, pushing his chair back and coming around the desk. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his voice carrying authority without effort. "You two must be Darius and Malik."
He pointed between them. "Which one is which?"
"Malik," Malik said, lifting his hand.
"Darius," Darius replied, stepping forward for a handshake.
The coach shook both their hands firmly. "Good. Nice to meet you. Your father's already spoken to me about you joining — everything's set. I'll give you a quick tour before practice, so you know your way around. Sound good?"
They nodded, and the tour began.
First stop was the team swimming pool, a gleaming rectangle of blue under bright overhead lights. "We use this for recovery sessions and low-impact cardio," Coach explained. "You'll thank me after your first week of conditioning."
Next was the main court — the heart of the club. The polished maple floor shone under the lights, the Bayview logo painted large at center court. A group of players were already running full-speed drills, sneakers squeaking, the ball echoing sharp and rhythmic. Sweat glistened on their foreheads, and the air was thick with focus.
From there, Coach showed them the weight room, lined with racks of dumbbells, squat cages, and resistance bands. "Strength work is just as important as your jump shot," he said.
They passed the video analysis room, where a large screen displayed paused footage of a recent game. "We break downplays here — yours and your opponents'," Coach added.
Finally, they reached the locker rooms. The space was spotless, with long wooden benches, rows of tall lockers, and the faint scent of fresh detergent. A few lockers were decorated with photos, wristbands, and lucky charms.
"These two in the corner are yours," Coach said, pointing to a pair of empty lockers. Every other one was already claimed.
Darius felt a wave of relief — this was official now. Malik ran his hand along the smooth metal door, grinning.
"You can keep whatever you want in there," Coach said. "Just remember — nothing's permanent. You won't be part of this team forever." He chuckled.
They nodded.
"Get yourselves ready and meet me on the court," he said, smiling before heading out.
As soon as the door closed, Darius grinned. "We definitely need to thank Mom and Pops for this."
"Most definitely," Malik said, and they dapped each other up.
They changed quickly into their training gear, the anticipation building.
The court was alive with energy. Players sprinted through cone drills, coaches barked instructions, and the sound of the ball hitting hardwood was constant. No one was coasting. Sweat dripped, shirts clung, and every movement had purpose.
Coach Anderson waved them over. "Shuttle runs," he said simply. They dropped their bags and joined in, sprinting back and forth until their lungs burned.
When the whistle blew, the players jogged over, breathing hard, forming a loose circle around the coach.
"Alright boys, meet your new teammates — Darius and Malik Kingsley. They'll be with us for the rest of the season. Go ahead, introduce yourselves."
Caught off guard, Darius stepped forward. "Hi, I'm Darius. I play guard — point or shooting, doesn't matter. Looking forward to playing with you guys."
Malik followed, hands behind his back. "Hey, I'm Malik. Small forward. Can't wait to get started."
"Good," Coach said. "Let's train."
As they split into stations, Darius's vision flickered. A faint blue glow formed in the air in front of him, sharp and solid, like a hologram only he could see.
HUSTLE SYSTEM – OFFICIAL TEAM TRAINING MODESESSION GOALS – BAYVIEW JUNIOR HOOPS
Offensive Objectives:
Hit 8/10 mid-range jumpers from the elbow.
Make 5 clean assists in live drills.
Score 3 layups through contact.
Defensive Objectives:
Force 4 turnovers in scrimmage play.
Contest every shot in your zone.
Complete 3 successful box-outs.
Fitness Objectives:
Finish shuttle runs under 12 seconds (x5).
Hold a plank for 90 seconds.
Complete 20 burpees without stopping.
Tier Ranking:
A+ = Perfect execution, maximum XP
A = Excellent execution
B = Solid performance
C = Needs improvement
F = Failed objective
The panel pulsed once, then shrank to the corner of his vision. His pulse quickened — every drill, every sprint, every shot now had a target.
Ball-Handling Circuit – Darius weaved through cones with crisp control, barely losing speed. [Progress: 6/8 complete – Tier A] Malik stumbled twice, recovering quickly but breathing harder.
Shooting Ladder – Mid-range, corner threes, free throws. Darius hit most of his shots. [Objective Complete – Tier A+ | XP +200] Malik's form was solid but his legs were tiring.
Defensive Slides – Side-to-side sprints across the court. Darius's footwork stayed sharp. [Progress: 3/4 turnovers forced] Malik's pace slowed halfway through.
Core & Conditioning – Medicine ball slams, planks, and burpees. Darius powered through. [Objective Complete – Tier A | XP +150] Malik fought to keep up, sweat pouring down his face.
By the end, Malik's shirt was soaked and his chest heaved. Darius looked winded but ready for more.
Scrimmage Time
"Alright, well done," Coach said. "Even the newcomers — you surprised me. Now you know what time it is. Game time."
The players grinned.
"For the new guys — normally it's full-court five-on-five for ten minutes, but with twelve of us now, we're running four teams of three. Half-court games. Rules are simple:
First to five points wins.
Winning team raises their hand — I blow the whistle, everyone switches teams and opponents immediately.
You can't have the same teammate or opponent twice in a row.
And in all games — no holding the ball for more than two seconds."
The players nodded.
Darius took a deep breath, ready. The Hustle System lit up again, flashing:
NEW OBJECTIVES – SCRIMMAGE MODE
Score 4 points in total.
Record 2 assists.
Force 2 turnovers.
Contest every shot in your zone.
Malik, still catching his breath, rolled his shoulders and stepped onto the court.
The whistle blew and the games began immediately.