March 6th.
State Championship.
The stands were full an hour before tip-off.
Half the arena wore black and silver. The other half wore red and gold.
Michael sat in the tunnel, alone, earbuds in but no music playing. Just silence.
Just breath.
This wasn't fear. It was focus—coiled like a spring.
Jamal found him there.
"You ready?"
Michael looked up, calm and steady. "I was ready two months ago. This is just... execution."
Their opponent? Park Hill High.
Top five nationally. Undefeated. Two All-State players. One 6'11 rim-runner headed to Kansas.
But the game didn't start flashy. It started like a chess match.
Michael drew two defenders early. So he dished. Then cut. Then posted up.
Jamal hit a corner three. Marcus cleaned up off the glass.
They went up 12–6.
But Park Hill answered. Hard.
Their bigs ran the floor. Their point guard forced two turnovers.
By halftime: 38–37, Park Hill.
The locker room was hushed. No panic. Just fatigue.
Michael stood, wiped his face with a towel, and looked around.
"No more games after this. No more rewinds. No more film sessions. This is our last shot... for all of us together."
He met every eye in the room.
"So either we go out legends, or we go out quiet. But we don't go out unsure."
Coach Alvarez just nodded.
"Let's write our ending."
Third quarter: Park Hill surged.
Their size overwhelmed. Fast break after fast break.
Down 10.
Timeout.
Michael didn't sit.
He pulled the team in, voice sharp.
"They're playing like they expect to win. Let's remind them why we're here."
The run came fast.
Michael stripped a lazy pass and threw down a hammer dunk. Then hit a pull-up in transition. Then drew a charge.
Jamal hit back-to-back threes.
Marcus blocked their 6'11 center at the rim.
By the fourth, they were tied.
Final two minutes.
Tension so thick the refs stopped talking.
Park Hill took a 2-point lead with a tough floater.
Michael walked the ball up. Used a screen. Hesitated. Then exploded left.
Spin move. Jump stop.
Mid-air twist and finish through contact. And-one.
He hit the free throw.
Up one.
Thirty seconds left.
Park Hill isolated their star guard. Michael shadowed him the whole way.
He faked right. Drove left. Pulled up.
Michael leapt—and blocked it again.
Marcus grabbed the board. Fouled.
He hit both.
Final possession. Desperation heave.
Off.
Buzzer.
State Champions.
Final score: 72–69. Michael: 31 points, 7 assists, 6 rebounds, 2 steals, 2 blocks.
The team mobbed the court. Tears. Screams. Cell phones out.
Michael stood in the middle of it, face tilted to the ceiling.
A slow breath out.
Not relief. Completion.
[System Notification: Milestone Complete – First State Championship][Template Progress Increased – Michael Jordan Template: 24.77% → 30.16%][New Trait Unlocked – Clutch Instinct Tier I]
And through the celebration, through the lights and cheers, only one thought burned clear in his mind:
This was the start—not the summit.