There's Always This Year: On Basketball and Ascension

The fourth quarter begins by discussing the nature of conclusions in all forms of human narratives. Abdurraqib assures the reader that this story ends the way it would “if you were writing it for a child” (239) with a celebratory city and community, exhausted into peace by the cathartic glory of a victory. This type of peace can come after a winning sports game, a funeral for a beloved figure, or even after a protest, but it comes from a community that believes, however briefly, its “people to be invincible” (242).

The narrative shifts to discuss the common phrase Abdurraqib used in his childhood: “ball don’t lie” (243). This phrase means, generally, that people get what they deserve, that talent must be displayed through the spectacular shot of a ball for that talent to exist. It was a commonly used phrase after an opponent fumbles, a piece of trash talk that carries a lot of meaning with it. Another meaning might be that cruelty always catches up to its perpetrator. Abdurraqib wonders what truths might be told about Columbus as a city, what kind of ball it deserves.

Abdurraqib then discusses the