Game Changers--A Benchwarmers Novel

by John Feinstein

  Jeff assumed he was talking about Arlow starting at the point and wanted to ask what in the world he was thinking, but said nothing.

  Coach C didn’t look like a genius in the first quarter. Chester Heights was every bit as good as Camden—especially when it came to shooting the ball. Their offense was pretty basic: The point guard, who was no taller than Jeff, would work off a high-ball screen at the top of the key and get into the lane, and whenever a defender closed on him, he would pitch the ball to the perimeter to an open shooter. If, by some chance, that shooter wasn’t open, he would quickly figure out who was open and get him the ball. It seemed as if everyone in a Chester Heights uniform could make a three.

  In fact, during the first six minutes, Chester Heights attempted exactly one two-point shot—an open layup set up by their center, rebounding a rare miss from outside and putting the ball back in the basket just as Mike Roth arrived in time to foul.

  The other eight shots taken by the visitors were all from outside the three-point line, and they made five of them. As the result, the score at the end of the first quarter was 18–8, Chester Heights.

  Jeff had started reading Sports Illustrated online at the age of eight. His father had told him that he had started reading the magazine at eight and that the highlight of his week was coming home from school on Thursday afternoon and finding the magazine waiting for him.

  Now the print magazine, which had been weekly for years, was only published twelve times a year. But there were online stories all the time. Jeff had read one recently on the evolution of the three-point shot, which had first come into existence on a permanent basis in high school and college basketball in 1986. The college line had recently been moved back to twenty-two feet, one and three-quarter inches, because it had become too easy a shot for too many players. But the high school line remained at nineteen feet, nine inches.

  Watching Chester Heights’s sixth graders shoot the ball, Jeff was convinced it was time to move the high school line back. Maybe the middle school line, too.

  Coach C subbed liberally at the start of the second quarter and Jeff found himself on the bench along with Arlow, who had turned the ball over three times in the first quarter. For once, Arlow had nothing to say. Midway through the quarter, Coach C walked over and pointed at the two of them: “Michaels, Arlow, get back in. Michaels, you take the point.”

  By then, the score was 25–10.

  On Merion’s first possession after he and Arlow had gotten back in the game, Jeff got a screen from Eric Billings, who then rolled to the basket when his man came up to deny Jeff an open shot. Jeff found him wide-open for an easy layup.

  As he backpedaled downcourt, Jeff heard Coach C yelling to get Arlow’s attention. “Ron!” he yelled. “Do you see how it’s done? That’s how it’s done!”

  If Arlow heard the coach, he didn’t act like it. Instead, he went for a steal on a pass to the wing, whiffed completely, and then scrambled back just in time to foul the open shooter as he drained yet another three.

  Jeff looked at the bench to see how Coach C would react to that. There was no way to tell because Coach C had turned his back on the play and walked to the far end of the bench, hands on hips. Jeff wondered if he was still convinced that he knew what he was doing.

  * * *

  Not surprisingly, things were going even worse for the girls at that moment.

  Andi and the other four players not in uniform sat on the end of the bench in their sweats. When the team came off the court to huddle with their coaches before the game started, the five of them stood to join the huddle.

  Coach Josephson was having no part of it. “If you’re not playing, you don’t need to hear what’s being said here,” she said. “Consider yourselves lucky I’m even letting you sit on the bench.”

  The five of them walked back and retook their seats at the end of the bench.

  “What are we going to do?” Lisa said. “This is completely out of hand.”

  “We could call Michael Barkann,” Maria said.

  “No!” Andi said quickly. “We’re not doing that. All that does is prove her right: When the going gets tough, I run to the media.”

  “But you didn’t run to the media on Tuesday,” Eleanor Dove said. “The media came to you.”

  “And I’ll bet they’ll hear about this one way or the other,” Lisa added. “Someone will drop a dime.”

  “Drop a dime?” the others said, looking at her quizzically.

  Lisa laughed, which earned her a sharp look from the two players in uniform who weren’t starting. The five starters were walking onto the court for the start of the game.

  Lisa ignored the glares. “It’s a phrase my dad always used about letting people know things that are going on. It’s back from when there were pay phones and a call cost a dime. If you wanted to tell someone something, you’d drop a dime.”

  “How old is your father, a hundred?” Debbie Lee said.

  Debbie was, without question, the quietest girl on the team. Andi had been surprised when she’d raised her hand to turn the benched four into the benched five prior to the game.

  Everyone cracked up, causing the two coaches to glare angrily at them. They quieted down as the game started.

  Not surprisingly, it was a rout from the beginning. Chester Heights was a well-coached team. Every time they had the ball on offense, they ran a play that almost always created an open shot. The Merion players looked baffled. Their center, who wasn’t that tall, played near the top of the key with her back to the basket and kept finding teammates for open layups or open threes.

  “They call it the Princeton offense,” Maria whispered to Andi. “Every play goes through the center. She’s not their tallest girl, but she’s definitely their best passer.”

  At the other end, Chester Heights pressed from the start. Andi was certain their coach had noticed only seven players warming up before the game and had decided to exploit Merion’s lack of depth. She had no reason to care why five Merion players weren’t playing.

  Every time Merion inbounded after a Chester Heights score, whoever caught the inbounds pass was double-teamed instantly. Sitting on the bench, Andi could see the panic in the faces of her teammates. “We never spent a second in practice working against a zone press,” she said quietly to the others in the benched five.

  It showed. Once, Jamie Bronson tried to dribble through a double-team and got stripped, leading to an easy layup. The next time the ball came inbounds to Jenny Mearns, who tried to throw a quick pass back to Bronson. The ball was deflected and went right to another Chester Heights player for yet another layup.

  The score was 10–0 and the game still wasn’t four minutes old.

  Coach Josephson quickly called time-out. For once, she was speechless.

  Coach Axelson stepped into the middle of the huddle with a clipboard. Even from where she was sitting, Andi could tell that she was calmly trying to show the players how to deal with the zone press.

  “You can’t hold onto the ball,” she said. “As soon as you catch it, the double-team is going to come.” She pointed at Bronson. “Jamie, as soon as that first pass comes inbounds, I want you breaking to the basket. Remember, when they double, someone’s always open.”

  The time-out and Axelson’s coaching seemed to calm things down a little. Sure enough, on the next inbounds play, Mearns threw the ball downcourt as soon as she caught it to a streaking Bronson for a layup. At least, Andi thought, that broke the shutout.

  But Chester Heights was simply too good for Merion. Occasionally, someone broke open against the press, but even when Merion did manage to score, Chester Heights had an answer. By Andi’s count, ten different players scored in the first half. It was 32–10 at halftime.

  “Thirty-two points in twelve minutes?” Coach Josephson said when they got to the locker room. “You call that playing defense? I’m embarrassed for you.”

  Andi almost laughed. If anyone should be embarrassed, it should be the coach, who clearly had
no clue how to attack a zone press. Maybe she could go out and buy a book on it over the weekend.

  “We could beat this team if we didn’t have a group that quit on us because their feelings got hurt,” the coach added.

  Andi didn’t think Merion would be winning if she and her teammates had all been playing, but there was no doubt the game would be more competitive. There was no doubt she and Maria would have a much better chance of breaking the press than anyone else in a Merion uniform. She felt a little bit guilty. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one.

  “Coach, I think we’d all be willing to play in the second half,” Maria said. “If our teammates want us to play.”

  “No,” Coach Josephson said. “You quit on these girls and…”

  “And those girls should be the ones who decide,” Coach Axelson said, interrupting.

  Andi was shocked. So too was Coach Josephson, who stared at her assistant as if she’d seen a ghost.

  Given the brief opening, Coach Axelson turned to Bronson. “Jamie, you’re the captain, what do you think?”

  Andi was certain Bronson would stick with Coach Josephson. To her surprise, she turned to the other players. “I think we give them another chance,” she said. “What do the rest of you think?”

  For a moment, nobody moved or said anything. Then Randi Eisen, one of the team neutrals, said, “I think we need all the help we can get.”

  Others nodded in agreement. But then, Jenny Mearns looked at Bronson and said: “They’re the reason we’re so far behind. I say, let ’em sit.”

  Bronson nodded. “Let’s vote on it,” she said. “All in favor of letting them play, raise your hands. Three hands went up right away: Eisen, Brooke Jensen, and Ronnie Bonilla—who, along with Debbie Lee, were the neutrals on the team. With Lee one of the benched five, that was going to leave them one vote short.

  Except to Andi’s surprise—again—a fourth hand went up: Bronson’s. The other three players, who hadn’t raised their hands, stared at their leader in surprise for a few seconds. Then, all of them raised their hands—Mearns last.

  Bronson turned to Coach Josephson.

  “Coach, it’s unanimous. We’d all like to have our whole team on the court for the second half.”

  For a moment, Josephson said nothing: standing with her hands on hips, staring, first at Bronson, then at Coach Axelson.

  “Okay then, if that’s the will of the team, I’ll go along with it.” She stood up straight and pointed a finger in the direction of those who hadn’t played the first half: “This isn’t over, though. Your pregame behavior was unacceptable.”

  Someone was knocking on the door. “Two minutes, Coach,” a voice said. “We need your team out here.”

  “Let’s go, girls,” Coach Axelson said, and headed for the door.

  Andi found herself next to Bronson as they all went up the steps from the locker room to the floor.

  “Thanks, Jamie,” she said.

  “Don’t think I did it because I like any of you,” Bronson said.

  “Never crossed my mind,” Andi answered.

  16

  The two Merion coaches didn’t make it out of the locker room until the buzzer sounded to clear the court for the start of the second half.

  As the players walked to the bench, the coaches were a step behind.

  “Okay,” Coach Josephson said as she stepped into the circle. “Let’s go with the five freshest players to start: Dove, Medley, Carmichael, Lee, and Carillo. Dove, you play away from the basket to give Lee some room inside.”

  Normally, Eleanor and Debbie wouldn’t play together, but the decision to start the five who hadn’t played in the first half would mean Eleanor needed to move away from the low post on offense. Andi was pretty sure she could handle it. She was probably the team’s third best ball handler behind Maria and Andi.

  As they came out of the huddle Andi noticed that Coach Axelson was smiling. She wondered if it had been her idea to start the previously benched five.

  Merion was a different team right from the start of the half. For one thing, Maria Medley completely blew up Chester Heights’s press. She was so quick that double-teaming her was a waste of time. She either raced past the double-team before it could get set up or she waited for two players to reach her and instantly found someone open.

  Merion opened the half on a 9–2 run, all four baskets coming after Maria broke the press leading to layups. On the fourth one, she went past the entire Chester Heights defense, banked in a layup, and was fouled as the shot went in.

  Chester Heights called time. When the game resumed, they weren’t pressing anymore. Their coach clearly didn’t want to mess with Maria. Andi giggled to herself, thinking about one of her favorite musicals, The Sound of Music. One of the songs in it has a famous line that asks, “How do you solve a problem like Maria?”

  The answer, when it came to basketball, was pretty clear: Don’t press her.

  Coach Josephson didn’t sub anyone during the third quarter. When it was over the score was 38–26, Chester Heights, Merion having outscored Chester Heights 16–6. The lead was still substantial, but the game was no longer hopelessly out of reach.

  Except it was.

  “Starters, back in,” Coach Josephson said during the break between quarters. She looked at Andi’s group. “Good job, girls. Take a break, I know you need it.”

  They didn’t need it. They were all flying on adrenaline. They felt as if Chester Heights was on its heels, even though the easy baskets had stopped when the home team had stopped pressing.

  Andi saw Coach Axelson start to say something, then stop. The starters went back in.

  Chester Heights’s coach clearly knew what she was doing. As soon as she saw Maria and Andi sitting on the bench, she ordered her team to begin pressing again. Ninety seconds into the final quarter, the lead was up to 44–26—a quick 6–0 run. After the last Chester Heights basket—on a clean steal from Jenny Mearns—Coach Axelson jumped off the bench and called time without so much as a glance at Coach Josephson.

  She then turned to Coach Josephson and whispered something in her ear. Coach Josephson shook her head. More whispering. Finally, a nod—barely—from Coach Josephson.

  “Medley, Carillo, Dove, Carmichael, Eisen—you’re back in.

  Eisen hadn’t played at all in the second half. Clearly Coach Josephson wasn’t going to go all the way back to the five who had started the half. Lee was the only player who had started the second half who didn’t go back in. Given their performance, it was hard for the starters to argue.

  As Andi and the others reported to the scorer’s table to check-in, Andi noticed the Chester Heights coach, arms folded, smiling in her direction. Then, she turned to her point guard and said, “Drop the press, Ashley.”

  This, Andi thought, was a coach who knew what she was doing.

  Andi’s group played well for the next four minutes but couldn’t get the margin into single digits. It was 51–37 when Chester Heights’s coach called time-out in order to get the players on the end of her bench into the game for the final thirty-four seconds. Josephson responded by pulling all five of her players. Only Bronson, among the starters, didn’t go back in the game.

  She was standing as Andi and the others came to the bench. So was Coach Axelson. Coach Josephson was very busy giving meaningless instructions to those going in the game.

  “You guys did well,” Bronson said.

  “You did,” Coach Axelson added. “I hope you understand how much we need you.”

  The game was over a few seconds later; the final score was 53–39.

  In the handshake line, the Chester Heights point guard, who was also their best player, introduced herself to Andi and Maria.

  “I don’t know why you guys and that tall girl”—she nodded at Eleanor—“didn’t play the first half, but I’m really glad you didn’t,” she said. “Tell your coach if she plays you guys all the time, you’ll win a lot of games.”

  That, Andi thought, would
be easier said than done.

  * * *

  At that same moment, the Merion boys were trying to pull off a miraculous comeback against the Chester Heights boys.

  Once Jeff took over at the point, the team functioned better at both ends of the court. The only time he wasn’t running the team was when Coach C gave him brief respites in the third and fourth quarters. Jeff didn’t feel tired, but Coach C believed in playing everybody and having his best five fresh for the final minutes.

  By the end of the third quarter, Merion had closed what had been a fifteen-point gap to six, trailing 43–37. They got the lead down to three when Arlow took a crisp pass from Jeff, made a nice ball-fake as if to throw it inside to Matthew, and drained a three to make it 51–48 with just under two minutes remaining.

  There was no shot clock, so Chester Heights began throwing the ball around, not even looking at the basket. With just over a minute to go, Coach C ordered his players to foul. “Anybody but the point guard!” he yelled, just as Jeff was grabbing the point guard.

  “My fault,” Coach C said.

  Jeff shook his head. It had been his fault. He should have known better. The kid, who his teammates called Billy, hadn’t missed a free throw all afternoon.

  He kept that record intact, making two shots.

  Coach C called time-out with fifty-eight seconds left.

  “Plenty of time,” he said. “No need to force a three here. Just take the first good shot available.” He looked at Jeff: “Unless they back off you completely, which I don’t think they will, get the ball in the lane and make something happen.”

  Jeff nodded, and seeing Billy playing up on him to deny a three-point shot, he drove past him. The center came to stop him, and Jeff slipped the ball to Washington, whose layup made it 53–50. Forty-three seconds to go.

  The ball came quickly inbounds to Billy and he brought it to the frontcourt.

  “Don’t foul him!” Coach C yelled.

  Jeff and Arlow double-teamed him and forced him to give up the ball. As soon as the other Chester Heights guard caught the pass, Danny Diskin fouled him.