basketball shoes - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
These guys, they wear the silly shoes, a sort of stupid-tax. I get my own for a better price or second hand and I rule the court. Whatever is on my feet I win, because it ain't the basketball shoes it's my heart and soul that does the winning.
Those shoes had the most incredible bounce; I felt as if they had tiny 'space hoppers' inside, or perhaps minute pogo sticks. But maybe that's the old-school mechanic in me, the tinkerer. I guess I could have imagined them as the suspension on a supercar... either way, whatever is in them, however they're made, I could slam hoops in them all day long.
My Dad went out and bought me these old school retro basketball shoes, all red and white with a star on the side. He sat there grinning at me like he'd just handed me the world in a shoe box. It's that same goofy look he gets when he tries to sell me on some old TV series or an original song from some band that was apparently a legend back in the day. When I told him all the other kids have the latest Nike or Puma, that the soles are better engineered, better for shock absorption, better styling he looked like a wounded puppy. I hate it when that happens, it's like he's the kid and I'm the grown-up. So I waited a day to make it seem like I'd had time to reconsider, then I went back and told him how I'd showed my mates and they were so jealous. He lit up, beaming...
They sit on the shelf. I remember when they were new. Straight from the box. I hadn't even wanted to wear them to training, in fear that they would get ruined. The fine stitching was crisp, clean and screamed quality. Not now though. Now the fine thread that held the shoe together had come undone and simply waved in the soft draft, reminding me of a snake. The bright blue fabric that was once clean and new is now marked with history and good memories. Soft black laces entangled and shredded wore not only mud, but the satisfaction in my heart from every single time we won a game when they were on my feet. But satisfaction for these shoes will soon feel like a distant memory. They have grown too small, too worn. Their time has come and it is now time for a new pair. But don't worry; death doesn't discriminate. No shoe can last forever.
Best and coolest aren't always the same thing. Just look at me and math class, not the best but definitely the coolest. When it comes to basketball shoes though they are the same thing and shopping with Mom is a no-no. Gotta get Dad off the couch somehow, he gets it. Time for a "father and son outing" hint, he can't resist those.
Suri tied the laces of her basketball shoes together and slung them over her shoulder. She knew she should have replaced them already. Their soles were worn and there was a stain on the side where she'd spilt a raspberry slushy on them. The parts that should have been white were dirty grey and once bright blue stripes were as faded as her jeans. But these were her championship shoes, she's won in them, they were lucky. Until they were threadbare she'd wear them, but only on the big match days now, never for everyday practice, and certainly not on the street to the court. She figured when they were so battered she couldn't wear them she'd cut out a little bit of fabric and put it in a locket to keep. You just never know when you'll need that luck.
These basketball shoes are wings for my feet. They move over the gym floor like they have a mind of their own, taking me past any opposition. With them on I am a champion who can take either victory or loss. Victory is the reward for the hard work, but always a new beginning for a the next game to come. Loss is just an opportunity to learn, a chance to get better and come back stronger. Being a champion is a state of mind and mine starts at my shoes and goes right up to my hat.
Danny wedged his old basketball shoes onto his feet with a grunt. If the rules didn't forbid it bare feet would be better than this beaten up old pair that left his toes curled and cramped. He eyed the dark grey and green shoes with the same dislike he reserved for cleaning the scrambled egg pan. A year ago they were the bomb, now, now they were too small and worn out. If they washing machine hadn't died he'd have a new pair already, but Mom was broke... again.
On the floor was a pair of soft boots with flat soles - basketball shoes. Tabitha smirked, one term away at university and her little bro had taken up her old sport. They weren't just any shoes either, they were top of the line. Ali always had expensive tastes. Well, if that was case she felt a little one on one at the hoop coming on - couldn't have the boy getting too big for his new boots.
The squeak of Liam's new basketball shoes was almost lost in the din of the bouncing balls, every player had their own and was dribbling rapidly from one end of the court to the other. Even in the artificial light they flashed a perfect and brilliant white, coach demanded they be absolutely clean, never worn outside for any reason at any time.
Cheap basketball shoes were one thing, cheap with lilac stripes were another. Jed gave his mom the "Really?" look. Her face froze for a moment, paralyzed before she managed a shrug with her shoulders and rolled her bottom lip in to meet her teeth.
"It was that or one size too small, love. Sorry. Maybe go over the stripe with a marker?"