My teammates all walked off the court, looking at the ground. I didn’t know if they were just angry because we lost our first game, or angry at me, but Tiago came across and said, ‘Your timing and focus were just a bit off, Patty. It’s okay, you will get better.’
Tyson was shaking his head and even Josie wouldn’t look me in the eye. I looked up into the crowd and saw my parents giving me encouraging smiles, but I knew I could have played much better.
Coach spoke to us. ‘It’s clear that you all have different talents and when you bring them together, you’ll be a great team.’
The others all walked off to their parents, but I stayed next to Coach Clarke. ‘I don’t think I have any talents to bring to the team,’ I said.
‘Patty, if you can play basketball half as well as you play other sports, you’ll be great. Like I said before, you’re just learning. We need you to make your best contribution for now, rather than trying to be the best player on the team.’
I nodded, and started to walk over to Mum and Dad. Coach called after me, ‘Just stick at it, Patty.’
THE NEXT MONDAY was dance practice with my group, Gerib Sik. I was looking forward to taking my mind off basketball for a while.
When we danced we wore a grass skirt over our shorts called a zazi, and bands made of fibre around our legs, called tetermus. Even though it was only practice, it was still very serious.
Uncle Noel sat on the stage with his drum, which we call a buru buru. Dad and the uncles in charge of the chanting sat next to him.
Uncle Noel started beating the buru buru and we moved into our positions, our legs pumping up and down to the beat of the drum and the chanting. We held our left arms out straight and our right arms bent at the elbow and to the side, and started to move like sharks gliding through the reef.
When I’m dancing it feels like the rest of the world disappears. I feel peaceful and in control. But when I first started learning the different dances and their steps I felt hesitant and uncoordinated. I needed to practise a lot before I became good at them.
After the boys’ first dance, Josie and the other Torres Strait girls walked on stage to move into position. Wanting to make sure the girls had their space to rehearse without interruption, I helped the younger boys settle down against the back wall of the rehearsal space, reminding them to be quiet and respectful. It was then that I realised I was a big part of the team with Gerib Sik. I knew that I could become a good member of my basketball team, too, if I put my mind to it.
On the drive home Mum said, ‘You have great timing and control when you dance, Patty. You’re aware of everyone around you, the beat of the music, and you move at exactly the right time.’
From the expression on her face, I could tell she knew what I was thinking. ‘You’re saying I can use that skill playing basketball, aren’t you?’ I said.
She just smiled at me and winked.
OUR SECOND GAME was being played at home. Stepping onto the court at my own school helped me feel a little less nervous. I looked up at the scoreboard and reminded myself to keep an eye on the time.
Coach Clarke called us in to the huddle a couple of minutes before the game. ‘This week I want Tyson, Patty, Manu, Tiago and Josie to start. Manu, you take the jump ball and Josie, I want you to be under the basket at both ends of the court for rebounds. Patty, I want you to bring the ball down with Tyson and pass it to one of our forwards as soon as they’re clear. Only shoot when you’re in the key.’
I didn’t even think about shooting but was happy to help Tyson bring the ball down, always looking up to see if my teammates were free.
The first move I made was when I noticed Josie standing clear near the three-point line and Tiago under the basket. I made it look like I was going to pass to Josie but lobbed a pass up for Tiago, and he scored easily.
Tiago patted me on the back when we ran back into defence.
My next play was driving towards the basket but, knowing Tyson was in the clear behind me, sneakily flicking the ball back to him to shoot.
‘Yes!’ I said when the ball dropped through.
‘Thanks, Patty, I owe you one,’ Tyson said.
Coach Clarke’s strategy worked well. We won forty points to twenty-five and Josie made six baskets, four of them from rebounds. Although I only scored two points from an easy layup, I was so happy that we’d won our first game and that I’d helped.
I was especially pleased that Manu stopped cursing me in Spanish.
OUR TEAM WAS constantly improving as we practised during recess and lunchtimes, after school, on weekends and at training. It all paid off when we played, and we won six out of the next seven games.
Our basketball season was coming to an end and we had made the semifinals against St Michael’s. The whole school was excited for us. Our class had even made a banner in the art room.
After dinner the night before the game, Dad said, ‘Why don’t we watch a game of basketball before bedtime?’
‘For sure,’ I answered.
Mum sat down with us, and Cupid jumped onto my lap and started purring. Dad put on Australia versus Russia at the Olympics. I had no idea who had won, but I badly wanted victory for Australia.
I could feel myself climbing up the back of the lounge chair in the last thirty seconds of the game. Australia was behind by only two points. I kept covering my eyes, worried that they were going to lose.
With only four seconds left, one of the Australian players passed the ball to the player waiting outside the three-point line. He jumped straight into the air as soon as he received the ball and shot. The ball swished through the basket and the three of us jumped out of our chairs in celebration. Cupid cried out a ferocious meow before darting out of the room. It was the best game of sport I’d ever seen. If the Australian player hadn’t passed to his teammate to shoot the three pointer, Australia would have lost. It made me understand why teamwork was so important, especially in basketball.
When we settled down, Mum and Dad gave me a hug. ‘Sleep well, Patty,’ Mum said.
‘You’ll be great tomorrow,’ said Dad. ‘Get some rest.’
BEFORE I TURNED OFF my bedside lamp I looked at my poster of Cathy Freeman. I thought about how nervous she must have been before she raced in the four hundred metres final at the 2000 Olympics in Sydney. Everyone in Australia was watching her, wanting her to win. My basketball game was nothing by comparison, but still, I would try to be like her – stay focused, and do my best. It was small-time games now, but you never knew where you might end up.
MY YEAR FIVE CLASS and the year sixes and sevens all came to watch our semifinal. Our parents were in the stands and so were the parents of the St Michael’s players.
‘Go St Mary’s!’ our parents called out as we warmed up.
Tyson nudged me in the shoulder. ‘Good luck, Patty,’ he said. ‘We can do this.’
Coach Clarke called us into the huddle minutes before the game started. ‘This is what we’ve been training for all season. I believe you can win this game if you try your very best and play as a team.’
We were all listening to him as though our lives depended on it. He continued. ‘For the first five minutes of the game, I want you to try and beat St Michael’s with speed. Tyson and Patty, bring the ball up quickly and don’t be afraid to cut straight through the traffic to score.’
He paused for a second and then asked, ‘Everyone feeling all right?’ We all sized up the St Michael’s players. They were the runners-up to our team the year before but they looked much bigger than us. They seemed cool and collected.
We all nodded. ‘No matter what happens today,’ Coach told us, ‘you’ve all played well this season. I’m very proud of you all. Now go get ’em.’
Josie, Tiago, Manu, Tyson and I ran onto the court as our schoolmates and parents cheered. Our teammates on the bench beat their feet on the floorboards. I could feel my heart pumping through my chest.
In the tip-off, the opposition got the ball. One of their play
ers bolted down the court, received the pass and made an easy layup even though Tiago was right on his heels.
That’s not a good start, I thought.
I passed the ball in to Tyson and he started sprinting down the court with it. I kept pace across from him. He passed back to me and I ran flat out for the basket, weaving through the defence, hurriedly making a shot. The ball fell through the hoop and the crowd went nuts.
‘Go Patty,’ they screamed, and I could see Dad and Mum jumping out of their seats.
But the opposition dug in. As fast and clever as we played, we didn’t seem to be able to keep up with St Michael’s. They kept us on the back foot with fake shots, and stole the ball at every opportunity.
St Michael’s’ score kept climbing, but the next time Tyson and I brought the ball down, with two opposition players pushing up on us, we passed the ball back and forth to give ourselves more room and finally Tyson was able to pass to Tiago, who shot and scored. ‘Yes!’ I said, and gave them both a pat on the back.
After St Michael’s scored their next basket, I was relieved when Coach Clarke called a timeout.
We drank from our water bottles as the coach addressed us.
‘Tyson, come off. Boris, you play point guard, Patty, you assist. Our strategy hasn’t worked so far but our last play was a lot better. This time when you bring the ball down, pass to each other much quicker.’
Boris and I tried to do exactly what Coach Clarke had recommended but Josie missed a shot and so did Boris. The ball was turned over and St Michael’s scored two easy baskets.
That’s when Coach Clarke subbed me off for Tyson. The score was fourteen to four and I was relieved to take a rest, but keen to get back out there and help turn the score around.
At half time St Michael’s were twenty points to our ten. I hated being so far behind. But Coach Clarke still believed in us. He walked us over to sit under the basket and said, ‘I don’t want you to think about the score or anything that happened in the first half. You have another half to play.’
I looked at Tyson, his face covered with sweat. He looked wild.
‘Come on, Tyson, you can turn this game around,’ I told him.
Tyson looked at us all. ‘We can do this,’ he said.
WHEN OUR TEAM stepped back onto the court, the crowd started yelling for us louder than ever. I was starting with Tyson, Josie, Manu and Boris.
Within a minute, Josie had scored. We all jumped up and I gave her a double high five.
‘Let’s push up on them, Patty and Manu,’ Tyson said when the ball went back to St Michael’s.
The two players trying to bring the ball down to their basket looked frustrated as we triple teamed them. Manu stole the ball and sprinted to our basket. He shot, and we scored again.
When there were only four minutes remaining in the game, we needed two points to draw.
‘Let’s just pass back and forth to each other and whoever can make a shot makes it, okay?’ Tyson told me.
‘Sounds good to me,’ I replied, and we started our move towards the basket. By the time we’d got to the key I was the one with the ball in my hands.
I spun around the player screening me and shot, just as one of their players pushed into me and I fell to the ground.
I didn’t even need to look up to know that I had scored. Our supporters were going off, yelling, ‘Patty, Patty, Patty,’ and they shouted even louder when the referee called a foul.
I stood at the free-throw line about to take the most important shot of the season. The shot that could put us in front by a point with only two minutes to go.
I closed my eyes and tried to slow down my breathing. I thought about Cathy Freeman gathering her nerve before the biggest race of her life. ‘All I can do is my best,’ I told myself. I bounced the ball twice, hard, into the court, gripped it and then sprung up onto my toes, pushing my arm straight into the air and letting the ball roll off my index finger.
It bounced off the backboard, hit the hoop, and fell through the basket. The score was twenty-two to twenty-three. We were up by a point! Tyson came and slapped me on the back before turning to the rest of the team. ‘Cool down now,’ he said. ‘We have to focus.’
St Michael’s were quick in their counterattack and within seconds they had scored. With just under a minute left on the clock, they were a point ahead of us once more.
Tyson sprinted towards our basket as if the two players pressing on him weren’t even there. Then he hurled himself into the air, holding the ball in one hand and making a long pass to our basket.
It was like watching a pack form in football. Then everyone was leaping for it. Somehow Josie got her fingertips on the ball and tipped it in the basket.
She scored. Everyone went crazy.
The St Michael’s players sprinted back to the end of the court. Copying Tyson’s move, they made a long pass – but I saw it coming and made a steal. I got my hands on the ball but it was quickly plucked from my grip and their shooter dribbled out beyond the three-point line, turned and shot.
The screaming of the St Michael’s supporters was deafening as the shot fell through the hoop.
I looked up at the scoreboard. There were only two seconds left on the clock.
Coach Clarke called timeout. What’s the point? I thought.
I looked at my teammates, who all appeared on the verge of tears. I felt the same way.
‘We’ve got two seconds left and one more play,’ Coach said. ‘But I just want to remind you that no matter what happens in the next two seconds, you’ve done yourselves, your team, me and the school proud. You can all hold your heads up high.’
I waited anxiously for Coach Clarke’s game plan. I had no idea how we could win.
‘Tyson, I want you to pass the ball to Tiago. Tiago, you have such a strong arm. As soon as you get the ball, shoot it from wherever you are on the court. Everyone else, get ready for the rebound. If you get one, try to tip it in.’
As soon as Tiago got the ball he took a shot. I positioned myself for the rebound but the ball bounced off the hoop and into the hands of one of the St Michael’s players.
And the siren sounded.
‘No!’ I yelled. Josie gave me a hug, but the smile on Coach Clarke’s face was the only thing that told me losing wasn’t the end of the world.
Heavy hearted, we shook the hands of the St Michael’s players and congratulated them.
Afterwards, I sat on the bench alone, looking up at the scoreboard and feeling like I’d let my team down.
Coach Clarke huddled us up. ‘We can’t change the outcome,’ he said. ‘We can only learn from it.’
‘If only I was better, if only I was as good as the rest of you, and taller,’ I said.
‘It’s not your fault we lost, Patty,’ Boris told me.
‘You played a great game, Patty. And you improved the whole way through the season.’
‘Yeah, you’ve become an awesome part of the team,’ Manu said.
DESPITE THEIR COMFORTING WORDS, for days all I could think about was losing our semifinal. I was so down that Dad almost had to drag me to dance practice. When I started dancing, though, I thought about how good it felt to be part of a team, all knowing the moves and working together, feeding off each other’s energy. And I remembered how hard we’d practised to get so good at our performance. I smiled to myself.
I couldn’t wait for the next basketball season to begin.
PATTY MILLS was born in Canberra. His father is from the Torres Strait Islands, and his mother is originally from the Kokatha people in South Australia. Patty plays with the San Antonio Spurs in the NBA and is a triple Olympian with the Australian Boomers (Beijing ’08, London ’12, Rio de Janeiro ’16).
JARED THOMAS is a Nukunu person of the Southern Flinders Ranges. His novels include Dallas Davis, the Scientist and the City Kids for children, and Sweet Guy, Calypso Summer and Songs that Sound Like Blood for young adults. Jared’s writing explores the power of belonging and culture.
Patty Hits the Court Page 4