A fuzzy basketball

Tim moved in the neighborhood with his parents and his younger brother. He brought his pajamas, school bag, books, and a fuzzy basketball. His parents bought a house, a car, and a whole nine yard of furniture. Tim's younger brother is so little, he only needs his milk bottle.

Tim's mom said: "This is a great new beginning!" Smile comes to her face.
Tim's dad agreed: "It would be a wonderful life!" He hugs his family in his arms.
Tim's brother looked at new places with sleepy eyes and one hand on Mommy's neck, the other arm needs to hold that milk bottle.
Tim, Tim just looked at his fuzzy basketball, wondering, where can he shoot some ball.

Luckily for Tim, there is a hoop on the second house to the left of his home. Tim walks to his new school, passing the hoop everyday. He observes. There are no people shooting the hoop! "Maybe I could play with it." Tim thinks.

Today is Saturday, Tim is happy. "I am going to shoot basketball!" He said it out loud. Grabbing his fuzzy basketball, Tim goes out. Tim's mom is happy, "don't be too late."

Tim walked to the basket and observed. "Just one shot." He shoots one. "Maybe another one." He shoots two. "This is the last shot." He shoots three. "I am Kobe Bryant!" He put in another one with a layup. Oh, Tim is happy.

"Hello, young fellow." Tim turns his head and looks up, an old woman walks up the drive way. "Hello," Tim replies shyly. "Ah, did I startle you? I am sorry," the old woman smiled, "you must be the new neighbor. I am Mrs. Wormwood, what's you name?" "Tim." The old woman continued, "You can shoot the basket. This is an old basket. I am glad somebody can still have fun with it." "Thank you, Mrs. Wormwood." Tim is happy and relaxed.

Tim comes home from school early everyday. He would dribble his fuzzy basketball on the road to Mrs. Wormwood's drive way to shoot basket. Tim would imagine himself being Kobe Bryant one minute, Jason Kidd the next. He jumps, runs, and shoots. He is an all star in his own imagination.

Tim's mom observed, "It is great to see him so energized!"
Tim's dad smiled, "Slow down there, trooper!"
Tim's younger brother is amazed while holding on to his mom's neck and the other his milking bottle.

It's been three months passed, Tim's neighbors all wonder, this little boy really like to play basketball!

One neighbor remarked, "Hey, you play pretty well."
One neighbor said, "Good shooting forms."
Mrs. Wormwood smiled, "You need a new basketball."

Tim's mom agreed, "Tim, you need a new basketball."
Tim's dad nodded, "Your ball is all greyed out and fuzzy."
Tim's younger brother trying to stand up in a wobbly fashion while holding on to his mommy's leg. He forget his milk bottle, which is placed on the ground rolling.

"NO!" Tim said, "I like my fuzzy basketball."
"But it is so old, you can hardly hold on to it." Mom said.
"NO!" Tim said.
"A new basketball is easier to play with, you don't need to pump the air before each time you play." Tim's dad trying to reason.
"NO!" Tim is red faced.
Tim's younger brother trying to stand by himself in a wobbly fashion. His mommy is holding the milk bottle for him this time.

Tim plays with his fuzzy basketball. He thinks to himself, "I like my fuzzy basketball. I don't like the new pajamas, the color is all wrong. I don't like the new school bag, it's too big. I don't like the new books, they are heavier. I like the feeling of the fuzziness of the basketball, the weight feels right too. The air may be leaking, but that's okay. As long as the sun is out, temperature is high, my ball still bounces."

One day, Tim plays his fuzzy basketball under the sun. It is hot outside. Record high! Tim shoots one, Tim shoots another, and Tim shoots the third, and Boom! It is like car back fired, or a balloon exploded, the fuzzy basketball touched the side of the basket board and burst.

Tim's younger brother comes out and stares! Then comes Tim's mom, and Tim's dad, and all the neighbors. Tim stands there and stares. "I want my fuzzy basketball back!" He cries.

On the school playground, Tim sits at the corner and looks on. There's a boy with curly hair comes up and asks, "are you the boy with a fuzzy basketball?" Tim looks up at the boy, "yes." "Would you want to be on my team?" the curly haired boy said, "me and my buddy here are trying to get a pickup game going, we need one more." Another boy with dark brown hair steps forward, holding a fuzzy basketball. Tim looks on with a smile on his face, "yes, I want to play a pickup game!"