The Showstopper Shows Rookie Tim Duncan How to Lift Gold
After the Spurs won the lottery, they told him, “I hope you like barbeque.” There’s a big spread in the box suite in the Alamodome, the stadium built for a football team that never came, too big for basketball, the nosebleeds too far from the court to make out who is who. This is dumb, Tim thinks, but the owner Mr. Holt says it will be a good chance to get a feel for the place, the lay of the land.
Coach Popovich, between swigs of Coors and bites of brisket, says a hometown kid is going for the belt tonight, Shawn Michaels, The Heartbreak Kid, HBK, the Showstopper, the football star who grew up on the base just down the road. Coach Popovich has sauce on his pockmarked cheek, but Tim doesn’t feel like he knows him well enough yet to say something, doesn’t feel right calling him Pop yet like the other guys.
It’s time for the main event, and Sycho Sid comes out, and the crowd boos like the Cameron crazies booed Tim every time he dunked on their heads. Mr. Holt laughs when the local kid’s music comes on. It says he’s a sexy boy, and he comes out with his long hair and tight red pants. Tim thinks he is sexy but not much else. Sycho Sid makes him look puny. Sid is a rough dude and starts whaling on HBK. You can hear the knife-edge chops through the suite glass. He’s throwing the hometown boy around like a ragdoll.
HBK staggers and stumbles, clings to the rope to stay up. Sid grabs him and picks him up. “No,” Coach Popovich says. “Not the Powerbomb.” As Sid goes to slam him, HBK hits him with a right hand then a left and just manages to get free. He bounces off the ropes and hits Sid with a clothesline. Everyone in the crowd stands and screams. Tim realizes he’s the only one in the suite sitting, so he gets up too. Sid lays motionless in the center of the ring, and HBK climbs to the top rope and dives at Sid and nails him with an elbow.
The big man is hurt, but HBK doesn’t rush. He waits for him. He stomps his foot as Sid fights to his feet. “Sweet chin music,” Coach Popovich says and raises his eyebrows. Sid finally stands, and as he turns to HBK, he’s met with a boot to the jaw. HBK puts every ounce of himself into that kick, and Sid collapses in a muscled heap. HBK is exhausted but has just enough strength to crawl to Sid and roll on top of him. Coach Popovich counts with his fingers, 1-2-3. The crowd erupts, and Mr. Holt and Coach Popavich jump to their feet. Tim gets up too. The roar is so loud it threatens to shatter the glass of the suite. Coach Popovich puts up his hand, and Tim gives him a high five and lets out a smile.
The Heartbreak Kid, the kid from the Alamo City is world champion. He stands on the middle rope and tosses his mane back over his shoulder. He then raises the big gold belt high for the city to see. Tim can tell it’s been so long, forever. He can feel that this building is hungry for banners, that the bricks crave them, that San Antonio is ripe for gold. They need it more than they need air to breathe, and he does too. A burning desire is what it’ll take, to put everything into a superkick and leave the league in a heap. We’re gonna raise trophies here, he thinks. Soon. We’re gonna raise trophies, and they’re gonna shine so bright that people all over this country, from New York to LA, are gonna squint and have to look away.
DREW BUXTON is a writer and social worker from Texas. His short story collection ‘So Much Heart’ is available now from With an X Books. His work has been featured or is forthcoming in The Drift, Joyland, Electric Literature, Ninth Letter, and Vice among other publications. Find him atdrewbuxton.com.