Chapter 07

Chapter 07

The Spotlight Finds Kobby

Monday morning arrived with a different kind of weight on Kobby’s shoulders.

It wasn’t shame this time.

It was expectation.

As he walked across campus toward the sports complex, people stared openly now. Some nodded in respect. Others whispered behind cupped hands. A few even pointed, excitement replacing mockery.

“That’s him.”
“The fresher who cooked Stone.”
“Big guy can actually play ooo.”

Kobby kept his head down, but his heart beat faster with every step. The scrimmage had changed everything—but he knew better than to believe the war was over.

Inside the locker room, the atmosphere was tense.

This wasn’t the playful energy of the open scrimmage. This was territory. Jerseys hung neatly in rows. Lockers bore names that carried weight on campus. These players weren’t just students—they were kings of this court.

The Wolves.

That was the university team’s nickname.

As Kobby entered, conversation died instantly.

Eyes scanned him. Judged him. Measured him.

Stone sat on a bench tying his sneakers. He didn’t look up—but his clenched jaw said everything.

THE FIRST FULL TEAM PRACTICE

When Kobby arrived at the indoor court for official team practice, he expected tension.
And he was right.

As he walked in, a couple of players from the elite first squad paused their stretching and eyed him suspiciously.
Ranger, the team captain, watched from across the court, spinning a ball on his finger.
His expression was unreadable.
Not friendly, not openly hostile—just calculating.

Coach Samori—Head Coach—blew the whistle.
“Everyone on the baseline! Warm-up laps!”

The team started moving.
Some players dashed off immediately, but Kobby maintained a steady pace—surrounded by whispers.

“He can’t run more than two laps.”
“His energy will finish soon.”
“This guy dier, he go slow the squad.”

But Kobby didn’t slow down.
He didn’t break form.
He didn’t breathe heavily.

Because The Phantom’s gift wasn’t just speed and skill.
It sharpened endurance.
It strengthened focus.

By the fifth lap, the ones who had laughed were gasping for breath.
Meanwhile, Kobby kept moving steadily—unbothered, unbroken.

Coach raised his eyebrows. “Mensah, not bad. Assistant Coach Selorm told me all about you.”

Warm-up was followed by ball-handling drills.
Then shooting drills.
Then defensive sets.

And in every single one, Kobby delivered.
Hard screens, precise cuts, laser-focused passes—he played like someone who had been on the team for years.

But it was the final scrimmage that changed everything.

THE SCRIMMAGE: KOBBY VS. RANGER

Teams were split evenly.
The atmosphere grew thick.
Everyone wanted to see one thing—
Kobby vs. Ranger.

Ranger was a campus star—athletic, skilled, and proud.
Losing to someone he once mocked would crush his ego.

Tip-off.
The ball went to Ranger.

He dribbled with flair, showing off a quick between-the-legs move.
Kobby matched him step for step.

“Relax,” Ranger sneered. “This isn’t your level.”

Kobby didn’t respond.
He simply watched the ball.

Ranger drove left.
Kobby slid.

Ranger spun right.
Kobby cut him off.

Ranger attempted a sudden pull-up jumper—
but Kobby’s hand shot up like lightning.

BLOCK!

The slap echoed across the gym.
Even Coach Samori flinched.

Kobby grabbed the ball and pushed forward, sprinting on a fast break.
Two defenders tried to corner him—
but he stepped between them with a powerful euro-step—
and finished with a smooth layup off the glass.

The gym erupted.
Players on the sideline stood up.
A few shouted his nickname:

“Big Black Baller!”
“BBB!”

Ranger’s pride shattered.
His face flushed red as he gripped the ball hard.

Next possession, he came down the court with fury.
He forced a drive, barreling straight into Kobby’s chest—but Kobby held firm.
Ranger staggered and lost the ball.

Kobby scooped it up, passed ahead to a teammate, and assisted an easy score.

It wasn’t luck.
It wasn’t a one-time miracle.

Kobby dominated the scrimmage.

By the time practice ended, even the players who doubted him earlier approached him with nods of respect.
Some bumped fists with him.
Some asked for tips.
And Ranger—still proud, still stubborn—kept his distance but didn’t say a single insulting word.

That alone meant something.

THE INTERVIEW

As Kobby left the gym, students with phones gathered by the entrance.
A girl from the campus media club rushed to him.

“Excuse me! Kobby Mensah?”
“Yes?”
“Can we interview you? People want to know how you improved so fast.”

He hesitated.
He couldn’t tell them the truth—not about The Phantom, not about the power.

So he simply said,
“I worked hard. Every day. Even when people laughed at me.”

The girl nodded slowly.
“That’s powerful. Students need to hear that.”

The interview went viral across campus.
Comments poured in—some supportive, some doubtful, some hateful.

But one thing was clear:
Kobby was officially in the spotlight.

THE PHANTOM RETURNS

That night, Kobby returned to the outdoor court, hoping—almost praying—that the mysterious figure would appear again.

And he did.
Emerging from the shadows, just as silent and ghostlike as before.

“You’ve stepped into a new world,” The Phantom said. “But every rise attracts enemies.”

Kobby swallowed. “I’m ready.”

The Phantom stared at him for a long moment.
“You think you are. But fame can be a heavier burden than insults.”

Kobby didn’t know what that meant, but he listened.
He always listened.

“You’ve begun well,” the Phantom continued. “But the journey to the national team… will be harder than you imagine.”

Then he gestured to the court.
“Now—let us train.”

And the night filled with the rhythm of bouncing balls, echoing footsteps, and the birth of a legend.