Cuba

Today in the NBA, the Miami Heat beat my favorite basketball team, the Boston Celtics. While the result was disappointing, it gave me a moment to reflect on things.

When the season started I was in jail. I remember following when I could. Checking scores and stats on the jail “tablet”. Watching the games on hard plastic chairs with a dozen other inmates.

I remember when Miami played Boston in jail. One of my friends, “Cuba”, used to live in Miami. Cuba was a die-hard Heat fan. We used to bet fifty push-ups on games.

Last I had heard about Cuba was that he tried to commit suicide in jail several months ago. I felt saddened hearing it. But I get it. Jail can be mentally and emotionally grinding. It’s hard to stay afloat at times. Especially during the pandemic. Especially on a capital murder charge.

Once again, a young man living the fast life. Caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time. A gun was pointed at his face. He made a series of rash decisions. Now he is facing the death penalty.

I remember him smiling a lot. Always laughing. He used to crack jokes constantly. Many of my memories of him was of him being a goofball on the handball court. He was also an active part of our evening prayer circle. Always praying that the circle would grow. Praying for the other inmates. He tried to keep hope alive. But he would also open up. Break down in tears about how scared he was. I pray he is in a better space today.

I know that he is jumping for joy right now that the Miami Heat are in the NBA Finals. There are precious few things to uplift a person in jail. While I’m sad my team didn’t make it, I’m happy for Cuba. He needed this victory more than I did.

I need to write him soon.

My prayers go out to you bud.