The next Monday morning at Westbridge High, Tyler Hayes walked through the crowded halls feeling noticed. Every step made his size impossible to ignore. Students whispered, some craned their necks to see him, and a few dared to mutter, "That's the freshman who dunked on Carter." Tyler tried to shrink into his hoodie. Not easy when you were six-eleven and still growing.
"Big guy!" Marcus Greene waved from across the hallway. "Heard you broke the gym's collective ego Friday night."
Tyler smirked. "I didn't break anything. Well, except maybe Carter's confidence."
Marcus laughed. "Yeah, you did. And the coach's jaw hit the floor too. You're on everyone's radar now." Tyler groaned. Radar sounded big. Too big.
By mid-morning, the rumours became reality. A local newspaper photographer had tracked the team's schedule and snapped a few action shots. The school paper ran a front-page article: "Freshman Hayes Dominates Varsity Debut." Tyler barely recognized himself in the grainy photo, arms stretched over a defender, dunk mid-air. The caption read "Potential future NBA center?" "Potential?" Tyler muttered. He tucked the paper under his arm and shoved through a sea of lockers. "I'm not even fully grown yet." Haley Dunphy, leaning against her locker, snorted. "You say that like anyone cares. Everyone's already talking about you."
"Great," Tyler said dryly. "I wanted a quiet Monday."
Haley laughed. "Too late, skyscraper. You're a celebrity now. I guess I should start calling you 'Tyler the Titan.'"
Tyler rolled his eyes. "Please don't."
Even as the attention grew, Tyler couldn't ignore reality. Math quizzes, English essays, and biology labs didn't wait for scouts or the hype. After third period, he headed to the library, backpack sagging under notebooks and textbooks almost as big as he was. Alex Dunphy, noticing him, raised an eyebrow. "You know, stats and chemistry are kind of like basketball you need fundamentals, or everything collapses."
Tyler grinned. "So, you're saying I should dribble this equation before dunking it?"
Alex rolled her eyes but smiled. "Something like that. Don't get lazy thinking height solves everything." The metaphor stuck. Tyler studied while occasionally bouncing a mini basketball in the quiet corner of the library, imagining footwork drills as algebra problems and pivoting through fractions.
After school, the gym became Tyler's sanctuary again. Varsity practice was no longer just about learning plays, it was about refining his body to survive the physicality of high school basketball, let alone higher levels.
Coach Vargas handed him a tablet. "Film study. Watch Carter's moves from Friday. Notice how he uses leverage. Notice how he sets up his shot. Learn from his mistakes and yours."
Tyler scrolled through footage. Every spin, drop step, and pivot was a lesson. He paused at one clip, Carter backing him down in the first half, Tyler off balance and giving up an easy two. Fix that next time, he thought. He spent another hour on the court afterward post moves, drop steps, defensive slides. Sweat poured down his forehead, but each repetition felt like a brick added to a foundation. The foundation for a player who might one day dominate arenas far bigger than this one.
By Wednesday, the buzz had gone beyond local papers. A scout for a California prep academy, attending another game, had noticed Tyler on Friday. He appeared quietly in the bleachers during practice, notebook in hand, taking meticulous notes on his footwork, timing, and rebounding angles. Tyler noticed him eventually. During a fast break drill, he executed a perfect lob dunk, pivoting to avoid Marcus' inadvertent collision. The scout nodded.
Coach Vargas approached after practice. "He's intrigued. Says you have rare instincts for a kid your age."
Tyler exhaled. "I'm still just trying to not trip over my own feet."
"Exactly," Vargas said. "But the instinct, the size, the motor, it's all there. You can't teach that."
At home, the Dunphy Esque chaos continued. Phil was filming Tyler dunking in the driveway. "This is gonna be viral!" he said, tripping over a basketball.
Claire, arms crossed, muttered "You need to make sure he's doing homework too, Phil. Fame won't get him a diploma."
Gloria handed Tyler a smoothie. "You are strong, sí. But remember strength is nothing without control. Discipline on court and off court. Understand?"
Tyler nodded, sipping. "Yes, Gloria. Control."
Haley leaned against the counter. "So… how does it feel, being the next big thing?"
Tyler shrugged. "Honestly? Exhausting. Everyone's talking about me, but I feel like I'm still learning how to not mess up."
By Friday, Tyler realized fame wasn't all cheers. During a scrimmage, he missed a timed box out, missed an open dunk, and got called for a silly foul. The gym murmured. He felt the weight of attention suddenly heavy. Marcus clapped him on the back. "Hey, rookie. Everyone's noticed you now. Pressure's part of it. Just keep playing your game."
Tyler nodded, grounding himself. Keep practicing. Learn. Grow. The scout in the bleachers scribbled again, shaking his head with a small smile. "Good kid. Knows how to take feedback."
By the weekend, Tyler sat shooting free throws in the quiet gym. Swish. Swish. Swish. He realized something the path to greatness wasn't instant. Not everyone would cheer. Mistakes would sting. Expectations would grow. But for the first time, the dream felt tangible not just a hope, but a road to walk, step by step. Outside, California's sun set across the court. Haley waved from the bleachers one last time. Tyler returned the gesture, a small grin spreading across his face. Tomorrow, practice would start again. The season was just beginning. And so was his journey.