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MidReal Story
Dupont
Scenario:Dans un petit club de basketball en Normandie, une équipe de lycéen rêvait de devenir champion national et avec l'arriver d'un nouveau coach au méthode particulière réputé pour avoir mit fin aux carrières de plusieurs joueurs, le destin de cette équipe va changer radicalement.
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Axel Roussel
He is a high school student and basketball player. He is determined, impulsive, and passionate. Axel joins a new basketball team in his high school year, led by a coach known for being unconventional and ruthless. Despite the coach's notorious reputation for destroying careers, Axel sees this as an opportunity to become a national champion. He faces the challenge of adapting to a demanding new environment while maintaining relationships with his friends.
Coach Dupont
He is the new basketball coach at Axel's high school. He is intense, demanding, and enigmatic. Coach Dupont has a notorious reputation for being ruthless on the sidelines and having several players' careers ended due to his aggressive tactics. Despite this, he offers Axel's team a chance to become national champions, creating an intriguing dynamic between ambition and intimidation.
Manuel
He is Axel's friend and classmate. He is humorous, observant, and supportive. Manuel provides comic relief with his witty comments and lighthearted perspective on the new team's situation. Despite initial reservations about the coach's ferocity, Manuel remains a source of camaraderie for Axel and the team, helping to maintain morale and providing insight into the coach's motivations.
When I was little, I always dreamed of becoming the national basketball champion.
I had everything I needed: I was living in Normandy, not too far from the famous city of Caen, and my parents were rich enough to afford me everything I wanted.
I had the best basketball shoes, the most expensive sportswear, and even a private coach who came home twice a week to teach me all the moves.
I practiced every day, sometimes for hours, and my friends and I would play against each other during our lunch break at school.
We were all in the same class and we were all friends: Noah, Manuel, Élora, and myself, Axel.
We were five with Thomas, another basketball lover who would join us later.
We were a team long before we actually became one.
When it was time for us to go to high school, we decided that we would all go to the same one.
We were lucky: there was only one high school in our town that had a basketball team, so we didn’t have to choose.
We were all going to join the team together.
It was going to be easy: we were the best, after all.
Or so we thought.
Little did we know that our lives were about to change forever.
It happened on a Monday morning, right after the summer break.
We were all excited: we were going to join the basketball team tryouts together.
We were standing in the school gymnasium, wearing our brand new gear and looking at each other with excitement.
We were all wearing the latest basketball shoes, and our sportswear was top-notch.
Our hair was styled with gel, and we had that fresh-out-of-bed look that only a good night’s sleep can give you.
We were ready to conquer the world.
But then, the coach walked in.
He was a middle-aged man with a weathered face and a grumpy expression.
He was wearing an old tracksuit that looked like it had seen better days, and his shoes were making a strange squeaking sound as he walked.
He stopped in front of us and scanned the room with his eyes.
There were twenty of us, all hoping to make it into the team.
The coach looked at us for a long time, then he started to pace back and forth in front of us.
The squeaking sound of his shoes echoed through the silent gymnasium, making us all feel uncomfortable.
Noah shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and Manuel’s usual grin had disappeared from his face. The coach stopped in front of Thomas, who was wearing a pair of expensive Jordan shoes.
"Take those off," he said in a deep voice that sounded like a growl.
Thomas looked at him in surprise, but he didn’t dare to argue.
He bent down and removed his shoes, revealing a pair of white socks underneath.
The coach looked at him for a moment, then he turned to face the rest of us.
"Alright, listen up," he said, pulling a clipboard out of his pocket.
"There are twenty of you here today, but only eight will make it into the team. Five of you will be in the starting lineup, and three will be reserves. The rest of you will have to go home."
He started to pace again, his shoes squeaking against the polished court.
"I know some of you think that this is going to be easy. You think that all you have to do is show up and play. But let me tell you something: this is not a game. This is serious business."
He stopped in front of us again and looked us in the eyes.
"If you want to make it into this team, you’re going to have to work hard. You’re going to have to practice every day, and I don’t mean for an hour or two. I mean for four or five hours. You’re going to have to run until your legs give out, and then you’re going to have to run some more."
He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in.
"And it’s not just about practice. You’re going to have to eat right, too. No more junk food or sugary drinks. You’re going to have to fuel your bodies with healthy food if you want to perform at your best." He looked around the room again, making sure we were all paying attention.
"And let me tell you something else: if you’re not passing your classes, you’re off the team. I don’t care how good you are on the court; if you can’t keep up with your schoolwork, then you don’t deserve to be here."
I glanced over at Noah, who was looking a little pale.
He had always been good at basketball, but he wasn’t exactly the best student.
I wondered if he would be able to keep up with the coach’s demands.
The coach continued to pace back and forth in front of us, talking about all the things we would have to do if we wanted to make it into the team.
It sounded like a lot of work, but I was determined to do whatever it took.
I wanted to be on that team more than anything in the world.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the coach stopped talking and looked at us one last time.
"Alright, let’s get started," he said.
"We’ve got a lot of work to do."
We all nodded eagerly and started to stretch out our muscles.
Élora leaned over to me, whispering, "Do you think Noah can handle all this? He looks like he's seen a ghost."
Manuel chimed in, trying to lighten the mood, "Maybe he just needs a little extra motivation—like a promise of pizza after practice."
Thomas, now barefoot and more serious than usual, added quietly, "Or maybe we all need to remind each other why we started playing in the first place."