A short tidbit written for one of my FBA draft entries, Barnaby Jazz (Bull/Thresher/Tiger Shark) from Australia and his feelings about coming to America to follow his goal of making it into the big leagues.

Barnaby and story by me
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The massive shark groaned as he stretched out on the beach, the sand warm against his rough skin, and the sun even warmer still. He could hear the waves splashing against the shore, and the chill of a beer in his hand made everything perfect. Barnaby brought his beer to his mouth and took a deep swig of the dark stout, rumbling in delight as he rested the bottle back in the sand. He loved this beach; it was fairly private, and the surf was sweet.

Puffing a breath out his nostrils, he got to his feet calmly with beer in hand, drawing the last of the elixir from the bottle before tossing it in his nearby cooler. He immediately replaced it and stared out at the surf thoughtfully with bright aqua eyes.

In a week’s time, he’d be waving goodbye to these familiar beaches, his favourite beer, and his surfboard. Soon he’d have to focus back on basketball again and strive for excellence in a foreign country, against others that were as good as he was, if not better. It was, honestly, quite daunting for the shark. Rubbing at his cheek thoughtfully for a moment, he shook out of his revery and snatched up his phone from his bag, sending out a Tweet seeking company on the beach.

His first response was from an American. Sad, really, but it sounded like he’d get to meet the man the following week, and if nothing else they’d have a good time. Maybe he’d even be able to learn from the baller a little. But for now, he waited, grabbing his board and hitting the surf while it was good. For a big guy, he was graceful on the waves, moving with a purpose, yet effortlessly. He glided through the tube with a serene expression on his features.

Barnaby’d miss this. He was sure the surf wasn’t this good stateside.

Soon enough, he had friends gathering on the beach; some were big guys like himself, others were smaller, cuter, but the beers were passed around, and much fun to be had. He went home with a man on each arm eager to enjoy his final nights in his homeland. Despite his good company, he kept thinking of his coming trip, and the huge leap he was taking in his life. Over there, he had only his agent, a woman he’d met only once.

And everybody knew women really weren’t his thing.

And as he saw the strong surf the following day, his grip tightened on his board and he grinned a little. The big waves were scary, but if he never rode them, he’d never know if he could, and as he dashed out into the surf with board in hand he muttered to himself.

“Bring on the big waves, mate...”

-FIN-