Game Face

by Sylvia Gunnery

  Jay changed his clothes, going over the warm-up routine and trying to think of some basic game strategies that always worked. When Ms. Himmelman knocked on the locker room door, he almost jumped.

  Before they left the locker room, the Rockets gathered in a close circle, hand over hand.

  “Who’s gonna win!” yelled Jay.

  “We are!”

  “Who’s gonna lose!”

  “MacLeod!”

  “Who rules!”

  “Rockets rule!”

  Jay held the door open. He slapped each player on the back as they passed him. “Let’s win this one for Coach Willis!”

  When everyone was out of the locker room, he let the door close and jogged into the gym behind his team.

  ***

  At halftime, the Rockets were trailing MacLeod by three baskets with the score at 36 to 30. The plays were uneven, as if everyone on both teams couldn’t get into the game and make things work the way they were supposed to. Even the MacLeod fans were quiet.

  “I need your attention, boys. We only have a few minutes,” said Ms. Himmelman as the Rockets gathered in the boys’ locker room. “There are just six points between you and your win over MacLeod. I think you can handle that, no problem.”

  Jay didn’t see the same confidence on the faces of his teammates. They were probably thinking about Colin and all the great plays that had earned him the MVP honour. And about the suspension that kept him out of this game.

  “Tyler, you’re doing a fine job as point guard,” Ms. Himmelman continued, “calling plays and keeping your team focused. Now I want everyone to start feeding the ball to Cory. Kyung and Finn, you guys block MacLeod’s defence and keep a path open for Cory straight to their basket. Jay and Tyler will be there for the rebound if we don’t score. If you can close that six-point gap before the last quarter, you’ll shake up MacLeod and the game will be yours.”

  Brendan passed around oranges and refilled water bottles.

  “We’ll call Coach Willis as soon as this game has ended and tell him about your win!” said Ms. Himmelman enthusiastically. “Jay, anything to add as the captain of your team?”

  Jay wasn’t as sure the game would be theirs, though he wouldn’t say that out loud. He knew that one of the best ways to rally a team out of a slump at halftime was to keep things positive. “MacLeod’s luck is about to turn,” he said. “They’re getting rattled and we’re gonna keep it that way. A few fumbles in the first half cost us and gave them the edge. Let’s control this second half. Like Ms. Himmelman says, this game’s ours.”

  “Okay, guys. It’s time,” said Brendan.

  The players formed a circle, hands piled on hands, and cheered, “GO-O-O-O-O, Rockets!”

  Tyler led the first lineup onto the basketball court and stood at centre, ready to make the jump. The other four got into position. The players on the bench leaned forward to catch every move on the floor.

  Through the second half, the scoreboard numbers flashed and changed — time drained away and the score slid slowly upward, always in favour of MacLeod. Despite their best attempts, Richmond continued to trail behind.

  With three minutes and forty-one seconds left in the game, the score was 63–61 for MacLeod. The Rockets were getting tired and Jay knew it.

  Ms. Himmelman called a time out.

  “The three-point arc will save the Rockets,” said Kyung before she had a chance to speak.

  Everyone turned toward Kyung. “Randall can score from the three-point line,” he said. “He is reliable.”

  “But MacLeod’s defence is all over us,” said Jay. “They won’t risk losing their lead. If we’ve got the ball anywhere in the three-point arc, they’ll swarm our player.”

  “I have a strategy,” said Kyung.

  “Okay. Let’s hear it,” said Ms. Himmelman.

  “They see we are now feeding the ball to Cory. They will be watching Cory. We will feed the ball to Randall instead. But we will not let them force a long pass because we will lose the ball.”

  “So where am I?” asked Randall. “Top of the key?”

  “Not there. You will be inside the key like you will do a layup. But suddenly, you cut to the three-point line. They will not expect this strategy. We do not pass to Cory. We pass to you — a short pass — and you make the shot. Three points.”

  “What’s your take on this, Jay?” said Ms. Himmelman. “Think it’ll work?”

  In his mind, Jay slowly went over every detail of Kyung’s strategy. He couldn’t find any holes in it. “Let’s go with it. You up for this, Randall?”

  “Worth a try,” he said.

  “Okay, then. Finn, I’ll take you off and put Randall in,” said Ms. Himmelman. “Tyler, it’s your ball.”

  Tyler took the ball outside under the basket, studying everyone in front of him. Randall was closest, inside the key. His guard blocked him. Kyung led his guard on a wild goose chase across the top of the key and away from Randall. Tyler watched Jay for a couple of seconds, but his guard was on him like glue, and now Randall’s guard had moved over, ready to double-up on defence. Kyung shouted from the other side. Tyler made a quick bounce pass out to him and then ran up the centre of the key.

  Cory pivoted away from his guard and gave an exaggerated shout for the ball. Kyung faked a pass to Cory, but sent the ball back to Tyler. Before Cory’s guards could switch focus, Tyler pivoted and made the short pass to Randall, who was on the three-point line, his guard not quite back in position yet. Randall leaped, sending the ball into the air. Swish! The net trembled as the basketball fell cleanly through.

  The Rockets swarmed Randall, hugging and cheering. When they released him, he gave Kyung a solid high-five. “Way to go! It worked!”

  “We worked!” yelled Kyung.

  The referee’s whistle blew. “Time out, MacLeod.”

  The Rockets made a circle in front of their bench, still high with the thrill of that last play.

  “That was perfect,” said Jay. “Perfect!”

  “I got the whole thing right here!” said Brendan, holding the video camera above his head. “The whole thing!”

  “Post it on YouTube!” said Finn.

  “Right! Soon as I get home, I’ll do it! This’ll go viral!”

  Ms. Himmelman pulled everyone’s attention back to the job still to be done. “There’s one minute and twenty-two seconds left. You have to stall. It’s your only choice. They need to score. That’s what they’re talking about over there right now. Look for fakes. Look for long shots. Do what you have to and get the ball back. Then stall.”

  As the MacLeod players jogged onto the basketball court, Jay could see that every one of them was determined to give the home fans the victory they wanted. The bleachers were alive with green and gold banners, waving arms, and cheering voices: “Go, MacLeod, go! Go, MacLeod, go!”

  The long pass from outside was rock-solid and MacLeod was suddenly racing toward the Rockets’ basket. Tyler just as suddenly made a wall in front of the MacLeod forward, forcing him to pass the ball to the player behind him. Randall cut sharply and intercepted.

  Rockets’ ball.

  Jay glanced at the clock — fifty-seven seconds. But that glance cost them — he didn’t see Randall’s quick pass until it was too late. The ball ricocheted off Jay’s hand and rolled.

  Kyung threw himself on the basketball as if he was on a football field. A MacLeod player slid to the floor, claiming the ball at the same time.

  The referee blew the whistle. “Jump!”

  Jumps were definitely not one of Kyung’s strengths. His face clouded with worry.

  Jay walked over and gave his friend a reassuring pat on the back. “We got you covered,” he said.

  Kyung pushed his sweatband higher up on his forehead, ran his fingers down his fac
e, and wiped his hands on the back of his shorts. He took a couple of deep breaths. Without even glancing at the MacLeod centre, he positioned himself for the jump and concentrated on the ball held high in the ref’s hand.

  The referee made the toss.

  The MacLeod player tipped the ball, but the force sent it soaring above the players’ heads. It bounced across the sideline.

  The referee’s whistle blew again. “Rockets’ ball.”

  The time showed seventeen seconds remaining. The score: 63 Home, 64 Visitors.

  “You guys know what to do!” shouted Tyler.

  And everyone did. Stall, stall, stall.

  Kyung took the ball out of bounds. He spun it between his hands, then bounced it hard once.

  Cory and Randall criss-crossed the key, their guards staying right with them. Jay was open and easily received Kyung’s bounce pass from the sidelines.

  “Okay, slow it down,” yelled Tyler.

  Holding one arm wide to keep his guard away from the ball, Jay dribbled steadily, barely moving down the court. He didn’t chance looking at the clock.

  The MacLeod defence was tight. Jay knew they would’ve figured out the Rockets’ stalling tactic. With nothing to lose, they might make a grab for the ball, even if they risked a foul.

  Jay had barely formed this thought when his guard moved in and tipped the ball out of his hands. The guard pivoted and made a wild shot toward the Rockets’ basket. Jay lurched to block the shot. He was thrown off balance and fell against his guard. They both toppled.

  The whistle blew and the referee pointed at Jay. “Rockets’ foul, seventeen, charging.”

  Jay scrambled to his feet and helped the MacLeod player sprawled on the floor get back up. “Sorry about that,” he said.

  His opponent grinned. “No problem. Thanks for the chance to score a couple of foul shots.”

  He was right. Two free throws would clinch the game for MacLeod. Jay looked over at Tyler, who was trying to keep a neutral look on his face. The other players were already in position around the key. Ms. Himmelman was standing up beside the bench, one hand across her mouth.

  The clock showed six seconds. Useless. After MacLeod scored their free throws, the game would be over before the Rockets could execute a single pass.

  The MacLeod fans became very quiet.

  The referee tossed the ball to the MacLeod player at the top of the key.

  He set his feet in position, spread his fingers across the back of the ball, and lined up the ball with the basket. He jumped and made the shot. The ball swished against the bottom of the net and hit the back wall.

  A groan of disappointment came from the bleachers.

  “Take your time!” shouted the MacLeod coach.

  A tie was still possible. Jay could see that the MacLeod player was rattled.

  The player in green and gold held the ball against his chest and took a couple of deep breaths. Then he wiped his forehead and eyes with the back of his wrist. He bounced the ball five times — low, quick bounces. He caught it, then bounced once more. He went up for the shot. Before the basketball left his hands, his foot slipped over the free-throw line. Violation. The referee made the call.

  As the whistle blew, the ball tapped the backboard and slipped through the hoop. Some MacLeod fans weren’t paying attention and cheered. But the scoreboard didn’t change: 63 Home, 64 Visitors.

  Four seconds left.

  Jay took the ball out under the basket. He passed it quickly to Kyung, who made the return pass as Jay ran into the key. The ball was still in his hands when the buzzer ended the game. Pandemonium! The Rockets cheered and hugged and gave high-fives as though they’d just won the season championship.

  “Rockets rule!” Kyung yelled to Jay inside the crush of players.

  Ms. Himmelman was on her cell phone to Coach Willis in minutes. “We won 64 to 63! Yeah, yeah . . . a three-point basket with about a minute to go!” She covered one ear with her palm, trying to hear Coach Willis over the excitement bursting all around. “Randall scored with a pass from Tyler! Brendan got it all on video!” She waved Jay over. “Coach wants to talk to you!”

  Jay put the phone to his ear. “Hi, Coach.”

  “Sounds like you guys pulled off quite the finale in this game.”

  “Yeah, well, Randall did. And it was Kyung’s idea to go for the three-point basket. He planned the fake strategy, too. We switched focus from Cory to Randall, and MacLeod didn’t catch on in time to block us. Brendan’s gonna post the play on YouTube as soon as he gets home. You’ll be able to check it out.”

  “I know you started out with a disadvantage this afternoon,” he said.

  Jay knew he was avoiding saying Colin’s name. This wasn’t the time to talk about the suspension. “Yeah.”

  “You did a great job, Jay. We couldn’t have a better captain digging in there for the Rockets and making it happen.”

  “Thanks, Coach,” Jay said. It sure wasn’t the time to talk about giving up the job of team captain, either. “I better get back with the guys. Yeah . . . sure . . . okay, I’ll tell them. Here’s Ms. Himmelman. Bye, Coach.” He passed the cell phone back.

  “You missed an awesome basketball game, Ed!” said Ms. Himmelman into the phone. “Can’t say enough about your boys — they did our school proud!”

  As the Richmond boys watched the girls’ game from the bleachers, Jay felt the victory mood gradually fade. The girls team maintained a strong advantage over MacLeod throughout their game. And when the game ended, their win wasn’t because of a fluke. They could confidently move on to their next game and the next and the next, until they played in the regionals and maybe even brought home another basketball banner to hang in the Richmond gym — just like they did the year before.

  Jay knew that his Rockets couldn’t do the same unless they played every game together as a team. Unless they all played every game together as a team. Colin wouldn’t buy into that. And one negative player could infect the whole team.

  Unless Jay did something about this situation, there would not be a new boys’ basketball banner on the Richmond gym wall at the end of the season.

  9

  Winning Combination

  “I left today’s paper there on the table for you,” said Jay’s dad. “Thought you’d be interested in the cover story.”

  Jay popped his dinner into the microwave and walked over to the kitchen table.

  The photo on the front page of the newspaper showed a basketball player with his daughter, a pre-schooler, sitting on his shoulders. They were in a gym, each holding a basketball, though hers was a lot smaller than regulation size.

  Jay picked up the paper.

  “Remember that guy? He plays for the Halifax Rainmen,” said his dad. “Guess he did a complete one-eighty turnaround a couple seasons ago and saved his basketball career.” He filled the coffee grinder with beans, and then pressed the ON button. “This might be something you’d want your guys to see. Since you’re team captain. You know — as inspiration.”

  Jay started to read the article as he ate his warmed-up lasagna.

  The Rainmen’s power forward had been suspended from the team a few years before. He had been mouthing off at refs, ignoring his coach, and not much caring about what he did on or off the court. Near the bottom of the column was a quote from the basketball player: “It was me first and whoever second. I didn’t care about anybody but myself.”

  The story was beginning to sound familiar to Jay. With just a few changes in basic details, the article could’ve been about Colin. At least, about the kind of guy Colin had been lately.

  Jay read on. The player had been suspended for the season after mouthing off one-too-many times and having a major disagreement with the coach. Colin didn’t argue with Coach Willis, and his suspension was for one game, not a w
hole season — but the pattern was definitely there. Both guys were acting self-centred and negative.

  It was there the similarities stopped. The guy in the article had made a big turnaround — he became a true team player, even becoming co-captain for the Rainmen.

  The last paragraph of the article gave the owner and general manager of the Rainmen the final word: “He’s leading by example. He has matured as a person and we’re glad he’s still here.”

  “Nice human-interest story,” said Jay’s dad as he leaned against the kitchen counter, waiting for coffee to finish dripping into the pot. “A player comes into a team thinking he’s the number-one guy and not caring about anyone else. Till he gets a wake-up call. That player could’ve ended his basketball career before he was barely started.”

  “Why do you think he changed?”

  “Probably a lot of things contributed. But I’d say the manager’s attitude played a big part. When the coach suspended that player, the manager decided to offer him a second chance. Maybe people don’t always show it, but when they mess things up in their lives, I’m sure they’re aware of every depressing detail.”

  “It’s kind of like one day they look in a mirror and see what they’ve really been like,” said Jay.

  “You’ve got that right. Sometimes all it takes is an offer from someone who wants them to succeed. And, if they’re smart, they’ll take the offer and switch things up in their lives.”

  All of a sudden, one word from the newspaper article popped into Jay’s mind. Co-captain. And he knew he had the solution to the Rockets’ troubles. “Dad, I have to go over to Colin’s,” he said, taking a last gulp of milk.