Chapter 3 — Throwing the Ball Through the Rain

Monday morning, An saw her name on the women's team list even though she hadn't signed yet. Nhien said Ms. Hanh had temporarily filled in to register for the friendly tournament. An held the chalk and tried to erase it, but Mai Chi stopped her hand. "If you want to delete, tell me directly. Don't let others think the team is short because of you."

An doesn't like being placed in a story she hasn't chosen. She went to find Ms. Hanh in the gym and saw her repairing the horn with a red wire. Ms. Hanh used to be a school player, everyone knows that, but few people know that she retired from playing after a final ten years ago. She looked at An through her glasses and asked why the girl who had promised not to leave the yard had returned.

“I won't promise anymore.”

"That's better. Promises can easily make people play for fear of breaking the promise. I need you to play because you want to."

Ms. Hanh did not force An to sign. She gave her a participation form, pointed to the "committed time" section and reminded her that the tournament would take place in three weeks and could be canceled due to rain. An asked what if the field was destroyed before the tournament. Ms. Hanh was silent for a few seconds, then said the team must have a track record of using the field and a community activity proposal. That's why she registered an entire women's team, even though there are currently only four people.

In the afternoon, Bap created a chat group called "Basketball Can't Die Because of Parking Lots". Mai Chi changed to "School Girl's Team". Nhien changed it to "Practice schedule". An did not participate in voting for names, but still read all thirty-seven messages in ten minutes. Phong sent a photo of a repaired basketball backboard, Bap sent a photo of himself lifting weights with two bottles of water, and Mai Chi sent a packed extra class schedule.

Nhien asked Mai Chi if she could practice four times a week. Mai Chi answered in three sessions, if the team would let her leave the field early to study math. Bap suggested everyone use a common application to record the calendar, but he forgot the password right after creating it. An sent a simple paper schedule, dividing shifts according to free hours. She used to hate planning because it made everything seem like an obligation, but realized that if it wasn't clearly divided, people with little time would always be seen as not trying.

At the end of the session, Ms. Hanh showed them the team's filing cabinet. One compartment was jammed, with figure-eight scratches on the surface. Nhien said it was the locker of the old women's team, no one had opened it since the day she received the captaincy. Phong used a screwdriver to gently pry, but Ms. Hanh stopped him. “Not everything that has been locked for a long time needs to be opened immediately.”

An asked why Ms. Hanh looked at the cabinet like she was looking at a person. Ms. Hanh replied that there are some matches that people remember by the number of points, and some matches that people only remember by the number of people who didn't get to enter the field. Nhien heard it and tightened the bandage around her knee. She said they would practice free throws this week, then turned away. In the warehouse, the filing cabinet was still silent, but An had the feeling that there was a story inside that she didn't know how to tell.

The next day, An met Ms. Hanh in the medical room. Ms. Hanh is checking the first aid bag and arranging bandages by size. An asked if she was the person who wrote the diagram for the final match. Ms. Hanh did not deny it, but said the memories of a seventeen-year-old player cannot replace the official record. An asked why she still kept the ink. Ms. Hanh replied because there are things that are not enough to conclude but enough to not forget.

An suggested making a map of the stadium's history, not just about the final match. Ms. Hanh likes that idea, but requires that each milestone must have a source: photos, borrowed books, accounts or "unverified" notes. An and Tran divided the board into four columns. Bap wanted to call the last column "rumor", Tran changed it to "unknown". Phong found a measuring tape to draw the field according to its current size, avoiding turning the map into a memory with the wrong scale.

In the afternoon, An met a classmate who had seen her old video. You ask her if she still misses shots. An said yes. You ask why you still play? An replied that one slip does not have the right to decide her entire life. The answer made you stay silent, then asked if you could come watch the team practice. An said yes, but had to read the rule sign at the door.

In the chat group, one person suggested setting up a hashtag campaign to keep the field. Bap likes, Mai Chi is worried about applying pressure in the wrong direction, Nhien is afraid that everyone will turn the match into a demonstration. An suggested trying a survey first: ask users what they want to keep, what they are worried about, and how they are willing to contribute. The survey does not ask for names, only class or age group if the respondent wishes.

The first result has contradictory sentences. Some people want the yard to have dark lights, others worry about light pollution. Some students want to play music, while others in the next class want to be quiet. Some people need parking, some people just need a corner to sit. An saw that for each answer, a person did not appear on the scoreboard. She gave the data to Ms. Hanh, suggesting that if the yard is kept, there must be a common use schedule.

At the end of the day, Ms. Hanh posted the survey on the board. A teacher asked why the female team did the planning. Ms. Hanh said because the children are using that place, and the user has the responsibility to clearly state their needs. An heard and saw the saying both empowering and burdening. She doesn't want to be heard only when she wins a battle; She wants to learn how to take responsibility when her suggestions affect others.

On the way back, An stopped at the penalty line. She threw ten balls, no one counted. Six went in, four came out. She wrote the numbers in the notebook, not her emotions. But as she watched the yard lights fade away, she still saw something change: for the first time in three years, she didn't want to leave while her hand still hurt.

An brought the survey home and placed it on the dining table. Mom read the lines about the parking lot and asked An if she had talked to people who needed parking. An told of a friend whose father often took sick people to school. Mom said if she wants to keep the field, An must think about how other people use the land, not just how her team uses it. An was a bit uncomfortable, but added a column "other needs" to the summary.

The next morning, she went to the administrative office to ask about the number of cars during rush hour. Employees cannot give personal data, but indicate the duration of congestion and the lack of seats. An writes down the total number, does not ask for a list of license plates. Ms. Hanh praised her for knowing how to ask just enough questions. An realizes that privacy is not just for the person being filmed; it also appears in seemingly harmless data tables.

During the group meeting, Bap suggested making a poster with a crossed-out image of the yard. An objected because that image made readers think they had decided against the parking lot. Mai Chi proposed the image of two intersecting lines: one yard boundary, one vehicle path. Tran asked if the caption was clear. They wrote "Find a way to share the land" instead of "Save the yard at all costs".

Vy brought a box of crayons, but a sixth grader asked if she could use pencils. Vy let me choose. I drew a person standing on the side of the field, a car and a ball, no one covering anyone else. An asked permission to take the drawing, I didn't want to. She put the picture in the suggestion box as requested. Bap said the painting was beautiful, An said beauty was not the reason to take it.

Phong checked the basketball board and noticed a rotten mattress. He informed Ms. Hanh, then measured his height with the technician. Some students wanted to change themselves to keep up with the match, but Ms. Hanh stopped them because it required a professional. An noted the correction time in the calendar and accepted that the training session had to be shortened. The team did not turn the rush into an excuse to ignore safety.

That evening, An opened a message from a classmate who asked if she still had the old photo. He wanted to use it for a school history lesson but was afraid of claiming the wrong rights. An replied that she would ask the people in the photos and not send the originals. He thanked her, saying no one had ever asked before. An read that sentence for a long time. She knows the team can't fix every way people have used images, but it can start with one question.

Before turning off the computer, An created a short consent form for the history article: where to use the photo, when, who can see it, and how to withdraw it. She sent it to Ms. Hanh to review and received back some edits. The template is only one page long but it took An all evening, because each sentence had to be clear to someone unfamiliar with the terminology. She realized that easy-to-understand writing is also a type of passing: if the receiver cannot catch it, it is not the receiver's fault.

The next morning, my classmates signed the form, but the two people in the photo asked not to use it. An informed the school reporter and suggested using an empty corner of the yard instead. The article was still completed, without the expected featured photo, but those who didn't want to appear weren't dragged in. An brought the printout to the field, placing it in a filing cabinet, so the team would remember that a place reserved should not force others to compromise their privacy.

Tran put a small label on the cabinet: "Please ask before taking." No one considers it a slogan, but everyone reads it when they open the door.

An took a photo of the label with the school's camera, sent a copy to Tran and deleted the photo after saving the necessary copies. She began to understand that those small actions did not make the day much longer, but made others feel much more secure.