by Eva Luxe
There’s no reason to worry, I tell myself.
“He won’t do anything,” I tell Shannon, more for my own reassurance than hers. “He’d get kicked out of school if he tried anything.”
“Yeah, but this is for the championship. Maybe he takes one for the team and drops Tommy so they have a chance at winning.”
“Damn it, Shannon,” I groan. “Why’d you have to say that!?”
Shannon likes to keep it real. Real real, and is always there to keep my head out of the clouds. And now I’m worrying. What if this guy decides to try something with Tommy again? We already had one scare – we don’t need another.
The crowd keeps shouting, but Tommy doesn’t look fazed. There’s no way he’s letting Roy get to him. Nothing gets to Tommy when he’s on the court, when he’s focused, when he’s ready to win. Roy saddles up beside him, getting unnecessarily close, drawing a look from the ref. But Tommy just smiles and gets an inbound pass.
Roy guards Tommy harder than he should, with an arm up and just a little too much contact. He’s trying to intimidate him, but Tommy’s not playing that game. He just passes the ball off to Joey and stands lazily at the top of the key.
Obviously, New Hampshire’s coach has told Roy not to let Tommy out of arm’s reach, because he doesn’t head to the paint to double up on Joey. He just stands by Tommy’s side, doing nothing, while the rest of his team deals with the play.
Tommy casually tosses me a look and winks, with just the hint of a smile. He’s toying with Roy, and he’s not scared. We’re up already, there’s no need to get into it with him this early in the game. That’s what their coach wants. Preoccupy Tommy so the rest of the team can take over. But that’s not going to happen.
Brant dunks the ball and the buzzer sounds for the end of the first period. We’re up by nine and I’m feeling pretty good. Roy’s whispering something to Tommy, trying to get him fired up, but Tommy just laughs and walks to the bench.
That’s my man.
Nothing can stop him. Not New Hampshire. Not Roy, and not some pathetic trash talk.
We’re going to win.
Chapter 27 – Tommy
“How the fuck could this happen!?” I roar at the top of my lungs. We’re in the locker room and I’m fucking furious. “We’re down?”
The first half just ended and we’re down by eight. This is fucking impossible. I swear I am about to snap somebody’s neck. Everything was going fine. First period was no problem, even after they sent Roy’s bitch ass in to guard me. I guess their coach thought that would throw me off or something. What’s he think I am, twelve?
That pussy’s got nothing on me, and his trash talk is terrible.
“How’s the ankle?” He asked me. I had to laugh. “Little sore?”
What a bitch.
But then came the second period, and we made some major fuck-ups.
“How do we go from nine up to eight down?” I roar, turning my attention to Tim McGowan, our freshman point guard who looks like he thinks I’m about to step on him, and that’s not too far from the truth.
“How the fuck did you drop the ball like that, man?!” I ask, getting right in his face. He’s sitting on the bench below me and it’s taking everything in me not to tear his head off.
“I’m sorry, Tommy,” he says, his voice almost a whisper. He feels bad, and me yelling at him probably isn’t helping, so I calm down.
“All right, all right,” I say, waving my hand in the air. I give him a pat on the back. “It’s fine. They’re playing dirty and we all know it. We’ve all fucked up at times, don’t sweat it.”
I give him five to let him know we’re good and make sure he’s got his head in the game. I’ve been in since the tipoff and I’m feeling it. New Hampshire’s fouling us like crazy, throwing guys that play bench most of the season at us so they can swat us on the forearms, elbow us, foul us hard and then get back to the bench. It’s a dirty, despicable, cowardly strategy, but it’s working.
“Listen,” Coach says, stepping into the center of the room. “There are only so many bodies they can throw at us before they run out. We’ve just got to ride it out, and when they bring back their starting five, we crush them.”
“Hell yeah,” I growl.
“How you handling Roy?” He asks.
“Psssh,” I snarl dismissively. “Little bastard wishes he could guard me.”
“Well, you be careful,” Coach says with a warning tone. “He could try something again with you. Keep your wits about you.”
“No sweat.”
“All right, bring it in,” Coach says. Everybody stands and forms a circle at the middle of the room, hands in. “On three. Champions. One, two, three!”
“Champions!” We all roar, tossing our hands above our heads. Then it’s out of the locker room, down the hall and back onto the court. I take my position, with Brant, Joey, Tim and Charlie, the other forward.
It’s our possession and I can feels Grace’s eyes on my back. Her gaze is like fuel for my desire to win. Her presence urges my feet forward and my hands to shoot with utter precision. Just knowing she’s here to support me gives me more fire than any speech or any amount of money or trophies could ever give.
I get the pass and hand it over to Tim. He brings it up court and I take my place by the three-point line. Roy’s on me, playing cute by tugging on my jersey. I turn my back to him and take a step, bodying him out of the way. The ref isn’t paying attention, so I give him a nudge with my shoulder, knocking him back a step.
“Fuck off me,” I say, just loud enough that he can hear me.
Tim fakes left, then shoots me a no-look pass. I catch it and pivot, face to face with Roy, who’s looking at me hard. He’s sweating already. Obviously the game is taking a bigger physical toll on him, which is to be expected. I played the entire first half and I’m still in better condition than he is. Of course, it’s a guy like this that has to resort to dirty tricks to win.
“Guard me,” I taunt him. “Come on.”
I fake right just to mess with him, but keep my foot planted. He leaps back, then stumbles forward to get back on me. I grin and fake left. This time he doesn’t fall for it, but I didn’t want him to. It’s time for some humiliation.
I look left like I’m going to head that way, but bounce the ball with my right hand, straight between his legs. The crowd roars as I slip around him and catch my own pass, threading a line straight to the basket.
Two defenders double me, but I pivot on my left foot and go up for the layup. Right off the glass and in. The stadium goes insane. I head back up the court and point to Roy with a grin. He looks like he could kill me. As I pass the bench though, I hear coach scream at me.
“What are you doing, Tommy? Quit screwing around!”
He doesn’t want me provoking him, but I just can’t help myself. When I win, I want to win, and that means crushing the other team, and when it comes to Roy, I want to utterly destroy him. That son of a bitch almost ended my career, or at least tried to, and now it’s payback time. But I’m not going to stoop that low. I’m just going to embarrass him, blow his whole team away and walk off with the championship. Like a real man.
I flash a smile to Grace, who’s looking at me with a mixture of disapproval and awe. For half a second I feel guilty, but it’s washed away when I turn back to the court and see Roy heading this way.
Come on, you bastard. Let’s do this.
***
Fourth period. One minute left on the clock and we’re down one. One fucking point!
I dug us out of our nine-point hole and Brant went on fire down in the paint, dunked it twice and took a foul. But Brant can’t shoot a free throw for shit, and the rest of the team is getting tired. It’s been a rough game. New Hampshire’s been playing dirty and we’re all going to have bruises tomorrow from elbows and knees.
But the good news is, I’ve been handing Roy his ass over and over. Every time he comes at me, I’ve got something new for him. After I humiliate
d him with that between-the-legs pass to myself, he’s had it in for me, but he’s just outclassed and he knows it. It’s only a matter of time before he tries to pull some dirty shit on me again, only this time, I’m going to be ready for it.
We’ve got possession and Joey inbounds it to Tim and heads straight for the paint. Roy’s got his hands all over me, but I juke him and head for the outside of the three-point line.
The crowd is on its feet. I can feel the tension in the air. I can feel Grace’s eyes on me. I know her heart is in her throat. She wants this as much as I do. But I can’t think about anything right now besides the game. My hands, my feet, my body have to be in perfect sync with my mind. I have to pull out all the stops and carry my team to victory.
Tim takes the ball to the top of the key and sends a bounce pass to Joey. I cut left around Roy in case he sends me a pass, but he’s going for it. He busts out a sick crossover and blows by his defender. He’s heading for the basket and the stadium’s on its feet. This could be the one to put us in the lead.
But as he goes up, two players from New Hampshire double team him, and one of them hits him hard, swats the ball right out of his hand. It’s an obvious foul, but the ref doesn’t call it. The crowd goes wild, booing as one of New Hampshire’s guards scoops the ball up and starts to take it down court.
“What the fuck?!” I shout in the ref’s direction. He shoots me a stern look, letting me know to watch my mouth or I’ll be the one getting the whistle blown at me. This is bullshit. I’m fuming. That asshole’s gonna cost us the game!
But I’ve come way too far this year to let this happen. There’s no way we’re losing, not after what I went through with my ankle, and not after what I went through with Grace. The whole stadium has its eyes on me – the whole world – but it’s only Grace’s eyes I am thinking about right now as I race toward the ball.
He sees me coming and passes it off, but Joey’s right behind me and we streak toward him like a pair of thugs. We double team the guy. He tries to pump fake, but it doesn’t work, and when he tries to give Joey the crossover – I swat the ball away.
It’s loose!
The crowd lets go and starts screaming as I scoop up the ball and push down court. My entire team is sprinting behind me, but the court’s open and I’m going for it. It’s clear. New Hampshire’s five guys are behind me, but my lead’s too long. There’s no way they’re catching me.
But out of the corner of my eye, I see Roy closing in on me.
As soon as I see him, I know what’s on his mind. He’s going to pull some shit on me again and save the game for his team. Dirty son of a bitch can’t beat me fair and square so he’s going to cheat. We’re down by one, and if he knocks me over and gets the ball, he could save the game and take home the championship.
Last time this ended with disaster, but this time, things have changed.
“No fucking way,” I mutter under my breath. I can see him in my peripheral, closing in, hungry like a coyote. He’s close. I can hear his breath. Panting like a wild animal. He wants this bad, but not as bad as me. I can feel him closing in. My hand pumps the ball and my legs push me forward. Forward down the court, and further to victory.
I glance behind me, and that’s when I see the little bastard make his move.
He lunges forward like he’s playing soccer, kicking his leg out to slide tackle me. But this time I’m aware. This time I see it coming, and I’m ready.
I leap forward, picking both of my legs high up into the air, and Roy’s dumbass slides right by me. His foot hits the court hard and sticks, causing his body to buckle and sending him sprawling head over heels into the stands.
The crowd goes nuts, laughing, shouting, booing as I head for the hoop. This is it! I’m about to win the game. After the season I’ve had, I deserve this. My ankle is strong beneath me, the eyes of my girl are on my back, urging me forward to victory. I reach the paint, slam my foot down and go up, the ball high above my head.
Here it is!
The winning shot!
I flick the ball off the tips of my fingers, against the glass, straight for the hoop—
Epilogue
Four years later
“Tommy Mason. This year’s MVP for New York. Is he really going to live up to the hype, Frank? Or do you think this will be another case of too much talk too soon?”
The sports commentators on Afternoon Hoops are talking about Tommy Mason, my husband. Ever since he was drafted by New York, he’s been the talk of every major sports show out there, and I couldn’t be more proud.
His first year in the league he won Rookie of the Year, and the hype has been unbelievable. People are saying he could be the next big thing, one of the greats. But Tommy’s ignoring it.
“Gotta keep my head on straight,” he says. “Stay focused. You get too big a head, you fall over.”
He’s a different man than the one I met at UCONN, but still very much the same. There cockiness is still there, but it’s morphed into an unbreakable confidence that just oozes out of him in a way that lets everyone know he’s the alpha male, and even being one of the newest players on the team, he’s already taking a leadership position.
After UCONN beat New Hampshire for the championship, Tommy’s confidence shot through the roof – or maybe a better way to put it would be, completely destroyed the roof and shot into space. Roy Meyers was dropped from the team next season and ended up moving home and working at a used sports equipment store. That made Tommy grin like a schoolboy.
He carried UCONN to two more championships the following years and was a first round draft pick to New York after that. Everyone knew he was going pro, but I can still picture his face when they announced his name, and every time I think about it, I feel warm inside.
It’s incredible to see someone you love succeed when you know it’s what they’re destined to do. To watch him go from the despair of his ankle injury, to his triumphant smile when he was signed with the pros, was the sweetest, most satisfying thing in the world.
Well, besides the day I discovered I was pregnant.
Tommy and I decided to wait until I was done with school to commit to having a child. We wanted to be ready – secure. . Somehow I didn’t get pregnant the first time we had sex, and until I got on birth control, we used…various methods of safe sex.
It was hard my last year when Tommy went away, but we talked every day, voice call, video call, and he traveled back to visit me whenever he could. He got me an apartment off campus with Shannon so he wouldn’t have to sleep in a tiny bunk bed in the dorms with me. And the most surprising thing ever, at least to me, is that Joey and Shannon started dating.
I couldn’t believe it. It took over a year, but after spending some time with Tommy and me, and Joey tagging along for a lot of it, she started to warm up to him. I was actually surprised at how much of a gentlemen Joey ended up being. He was such a crass, woman crazed, beer drinking douchebag – a loveable douchebag, but a douchebag none the less.
But I think seeing Tommy with me, and happy, really made him think about what he was doing, and after the season was over, and the post-victory celebrations started to cool down, he really slowed down on the partying and started to get his eye on Shannon.
And she actually got her eye on him too. She kept pretending it wasn’t true, but she’s the world’s worst liar and after rooming with her for one semester, I could read her like a book.
“I don’t like him, Grace. God!” She protested when I first asked her.
“Shannon,” I said with a laugh. “Just admit it. It’s me!”
“Look,” she replied, her voice snippy like a little girl. “Okay, maybe he’s cute, okay? That doesn’t mean I like him!”
But then one night, Tommy took me out to a really nice restaurant in Bethel, and Joey actually manned up and asked her to come with us on a double date.
“Come on, girl,” he said, unable to fully drop his bravado. “It’s not like I’m the worst guy in the world. It won
’t kill ya.”
Shannon twisted her lips and looked at me, but I wasn’t going to help her out. I thought it was a great idea. My best friend, dating Tommy’s best friend? What could be better?
The car ride over was slightly awkward as they shared the back seat, but Joey actually got dressed up and he cleaned up nicely. It was weird not seeing him in sport shorts and a tank top. The place we were going to was really high class, and the food was amazing. I had a lobster risotto and Tommy had an amazing steak. Joey had some sort of pork and Shannon had a salad and some sort of noodle dish I’d never heard of before and still can’t remember what it was. All I know was it was delicious.
But over dinner, they really clicked, and it wasn’t long before they started dating.
“I can’t believe it,” Shannon said to me after she came back from Joey’s room one night. “Here I was, the girl warning you off the basketball players, and now I’m dating one too!”
“It’s the new hotness,” I joked with her.
Joey didn’t end up going pro. He was being scouted by Los Angeles, but he knew he wasn’t going to be a star like Tommy and didn’t want to move across the country and leave Shannon for a career that he wasn’t sure he wanted.
So he ended up getting hired by UCONN to coach and he’s loving it. They got a house in town and moved in right after graduation. It’s gorgeous, with a huge back yard and a pond, and he’s doing some volunteer coaching work at an elementary school a few towns over where Shannon is teaching.
Tommy and I have two places, as pretentious as that sounds, but it’s a necessity. We have one place in New York and one in Connecticut near the college, and it allows us to go back and forth as we please. And that’s where I am now.
“Well, Bob,” the commentators continue. “I don’t think Tommy’s overrated, but he did fail to carry New York to this year’s championship.”
“That is true, Frank,” Bob says. “But is it fair to ask the rookie on the team to carry them to a victory? Even Jordan didn’t start to really dominate that early into his professional career.”