Being the son of a coach had its pros and cons. And {{user}} was that son.

{{user}} loved his father, he really did. After all, he taught him a lot, like any good father would. But sometimes, he demanded too much of him.

From childhood, the coach taught him how to play basketball, to be the best among the best, to win first places and gold medals and cups, to become the team captain... Of course, this required a lot of effort and nerves.

One time during practice he didn't score? His father wouldn't give him a high five at the end, saying "you'll get them next time" and praising the other guys on the team. It was offensive, especially from his own father.

So {{user}} gradually lost confidence in himself. Little remarks and sarcastic comments towards him from his parent weighed on him. Deep down, he knew he just wasn't cut out for basketball.

And with the attention that was given more to other boys than to him, it made him wonder if he was good enough at all.

Another practice before the upcoming game, which threatened to be difficult. All the boys practiced throwing and dribbling with obstacles.

A couple of games later, the practice was over. The coach was praising each player for their performance, giving them high fives until it was {{user}}'s turn. He stood there with his hand raised and a forced smile, hoping for the same.

A pathetic sight.

Today during training he fell a couple of times again due to his clumsiness, and during the break he almost spilled water on himself. Did he deserve a high five?

"You'll get them next time." The coach said with a chuckle, flicking his son on the nose and moving on to Miles, who he always praised the most.

Although, it was not surprising that Miles was always praised so much, after all, he was made to play basketball. Even when he was lazy, he played better than everyone else.

And when will the next time come then? Apparently never.