It was bad, man. The uniform was huge. It looked like I was wearing a ball gown. I pulled the strings in my shorts like they were connected to those slatted blinds we had at the house, the ones that Dad always said he was going to clean but never did.
Speaking of Dad, he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His ankles were crossed too. He must’ve transported there using his Wizard powers—I hadn’t heard him. His already-thin voice was even thinner in the tiled bathroom. He said, in what may’ve been the dad comment of the century, “Looks a lil’ big.”
“Gee,” I said. “Ya think?”
It was now 11:30 a.m. Ninety minutes until game time. My new teammates were scattered around the locker room, going through their various pregame rituals. Glen Grant, the shortest member of the team, was hanging upside down in his locker like a bat. Ray “Junkman” Anderson appeared to be doing some variation of the Hokey Pokey. Abe “The Hammer” Gillman was tapping each of his toes with a xylophone mallet.
The exception was seven-foot-seven Alou Achebe, who was sitting in a fold-out lawn chair in front of his locker doing the New York Times crossword puzzle. Reading glasses were perched on the tip of his nose, giving him a professor-like look. Bare feet spread wide, toes curling into the carpet, he was staring down at the crossword, tapping the eraser of a number-two pencil against his teeth. “Six letters,” he said. “Third letter’s a u. Between the engine and the gearbox.”
“Clutch,” Dad said right away.
“Clutch,” Alou repeated. He filled in the letters, then finally looked up—the only time, of course, that Alou Achebe was ever looking up at me. He folded the newspaper and set it on his lap. He palmed his knees. “Nervous?”
“I feel like I’m wearing a costume,” I muttered. Talking to anyone else, I would’ve played it cool, but somehow I felt comfortable around Alou. Everyone did. He had that special something you can’t teach, like knowing where a rebound will come off or being able to catch a pass in traffic. But he had it for people. “How did you feel before your first game?” I asked.
He did me one better.
He went all the way back to his first day in America.
“First day,” he said, still palming his knees, head back, smiling. “I was eighteen. I flew from Khartoum to London, London to DC. I was five foot nine when I boarded the plane, honest. I fell asleep over the ocean. I dreamed I was a giant and woke up like this. My heart was racing.” He mimed a pounding heart, then a plane skidding across a runway. “I was here, man! Here! America! I raced up the tunnel and burst out, looking all around. The very first person I saw—I’m serious now—was a witch.” He said it like weech. “I mean, a witch witch. Pointy black hat, broomstick. No, I thought. No. No. No. I’m still dreaming. I’m flying. I’m over the ocean. I’m dreaming. I rubbed my eyes. Next person I saw was a clown. Rainbow-colored hair, white face, red nose. Beside him—there was Elvis! Marilyn Monroe! Now I was freaking out. I’m dreaming, I thought. I’m dreaming. I kept pinching myself. I found a police officer. I tapped him on the shoulder. ‘Officer,’ I said. ‘Officer, where am I? What’s going on?’ He turned around and his eyeball was hanging out of its socket! I ran. Everyone was staring like I was the freak. I stumbled outside, crashed into a taxi driver. ‘Whoa,’ he said. ‘Whoa, big man. Whoa.’ He laughed, then he said this word I’d never heard before: ‘Halloween. It’s Halloween, man. Halloween. Relax!’ ”
I knew what Alou was saying—this is all new to you, just relax, everything will be fine—but it was hard. I felt like the planet was spinning wildly out of control and I was the only one who noticed. I broke a sacred game-day rule and turned on my phone.
L: hey
T: who dis
L: ha ha
L: wish u were here
T: where?
L: um
L: in NEW YORK
L: remember????
T: ur in ny???
T: ha
T: i know, just playin’
T: im streamin’ it
T: break a leg!
L: first of all
L: u don’t say that to bball plyers
L: second
L: it doesn’t matter
T: ????
L: [. . .]
T: listen man
T: don’t overthink this
T: u got the role of a lifetime!
T: just PLAY it!
T:
T:
PHILADELPHIA V. NEW YORK
Paul Reagan—New York Head Coach
I’m not usually one to talk about “vibes” or “energy,” but there’s no other way to say it. There was a weird energy in the building that day. Weird vibes, man. I sensed it right when I walked in.
George Van Arden—New York Assistant Coach
We were all uptight before the game . . . but that was normal. It’s hard to explain if you haven’t coached. We were in first place. We’d already wrapped up the division. On paper, the game meant nothing . . . but that’s exactly why it was stressful. When you’re at that point, with the playoffs so close, you’re just trying to get through a game like that. You just want it to be over as quick as possible without anything freaky happening.
Harry Hawkins—Bells Guard
I remember [Trudeaux] on the bus that morning, sitting there with her dad. She didn’t say much. She just stared out the window with those big headphones on. Looking back, she didn’t seem overwhelmed, like you’d think. Or even happy. Or sad. Or anything. She just stared out the window, man. It was hard to get a read on her.
Doug Braman—Bells General Manager
Everyone thinks that I ordered Jimmy not to play her that first game. That’s not true. I don’t know where that came from. Did I suggest, casually, that maybe he should consider the implications of playing her? Yes. But I stand by that. This was huge. This was a pivotal moment in the history of the league, let alone the franchise, for many reasons. I recognized that in the moment. Some other people didn’t. Yet somehow I’m always the bad guy. I’m the villain. I was the one who signed her. People forget that.
Jimmy Mack—Bells Head Coach
Braman can say whatever he wants. He ordered me not to play her. Period. He said, “Jimmy, you put her in, so help me god I’ll come down and fire you in the middle of the . . .” It was like he woke up with a hangover—What’d I do? His plan was to pin it on the owner, Kurtz. Spin it like a gimmick to pluck a few bucks from a last-place team. I told him to kiss my old, wrinkled [butt]. “You pick the players,” I said, “I coach ’em. That’s how this works.” Funny thing is, I wasn’t plannin’ on playin’ her. I told her that before the game. I didn’t think she was ready, didn’t wanna rush it. I was worried about her. [Bites down on ring.]
Spud Larkin—Famous Movie Director/New York Fan
I almost missed the game, man. I was this close to missin’ it. I was sick. I had this bad head cold and a sore throat. My wife said, “You know you don’t have to go to every game, right?” That hadn’t occurred to me. I called around to see if anyone wanted the tickets. Everyone said, “Who they playin’? Who they playin’?” I said, “The Bells!” They said, “The Bells? Yeah. No thanks.” [Laughs.] So I’m sitting there with $500 paper in my hands. Finally, I just decided to suck it up and go. My wife made me promise I wouldn’t yell too much. I had to be on set the next week. I was just getting my voice back. I said, “Me? Yell?” She rolled her eyes.
Alou Achebe—Bells Center
I think it was something like 36–12 after the first quarter.
Harry Hawkins—Bells Guard
Man, Spud was running his mouth the whole game. They were up forty in the third, and he was killin’ us. “Your game got more holes than your mama’s drawers.” “Your daddy’s unicycle got more handles.” Stuff like that. He told me his, and I quote, “itchy-butthole-havin’ dog” dragged his butt up the sidewalk faster than I got up the court. It was rough, man. Funny, but rough.
Alou Achebe—Bells Center
As a player,
you’d try to tune him out . . . but it’s just impossible. Spud is Spud. He’s like a force of nature. You can’t shut him up.
Tim Ferguson—Head Referee
It got to that late-game stage where everyone was kind of on autopilot. Most of the fans had already left. I was standing there thinking about where I was going to eat after the game. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye I saw someone shoot up off the bench. I kind of did a double take.
George Van Arden—New York Assistant Coach
I thought she was a ball girl. You know, like she was picking up the jacket of someone who’d just checked in. Never in a million years did I think she was checking in. It didn’t register that she was wearing a jersey with her name on it. The jersey was, like, five sizes too big. She was swimming in it.
Emily Murray—Philadelphia Sports Columnist
She was wearing these filthy old sneakers with duct tape on them.
Paul Reagan—New York Head Coach
Jimmy walked out on the court and called a time-out. That pissed me off. I hate when he does that. Plus, there was about twelve seconds left, and we were up forty. That’s when I saw her. She was just kneeling there with her elbow on the scorer’s table. I turned to my assistant and said, “What the heck is going on?”
Edgar Patrick—New York Center
I was out of the game by then. It was a blowout. I was down the end of the bench, joking around with the guys. Someone nudged me and was like, “Yo, man, check this out.” I looked over and there was this girl coming on the court. I thought she was a fan. I thought that a fan had run onto the court. I always wondered why that didn’t happen more. I mean, the fans are right there. So the game stopped.
Jimmy Mack—Bells Head Coach
[Runs pink bubblegum cigar under nose.] One of the best moments of my life. Seein’ their faces.
Tim Ferguson—Head Referee
There was some confusion. I think there was, like, fourteen seconds left. I went over to Jimmy. I said, “Yo, Jimmy, what’s the deal?”
Jimmy Mack—Bells Head Coach
Ferguson came over. He says, “What’s up?” I says, “I’m sorry, Timmy, I’m gettin’ old, maybe I didn’t hear it.” “Hear what?” he says. “The horn. I didn’t hear it. Didn’t know the game was over.” He says, “It ain’t over.” I says, “Oh, well, good. Then I’m puttin’ my bleeping player in the game.” Just like that. Well, maybe it wasn’t that polite.
Tim Ferguson—Head Referee
Jimmy never made things easy. I went over and checked with the scorer. The rules are simple. All players have to be listed in the official scorebook to be eligible to play. The coaches have to initial the book before the game to approve it. It’s a technical foul if you try to sub in a player that’s not listed. Thing is—especially by that point of the season—sometimes you kind of cut corners. Nobody admits it, but it happens all the time. I just counted up the number of players on both sides before the game, circled that number at the bottom, and gave the book back. Happens all the time. I missed it. So now, thirteen seconds left, I look closer and, sure enough, her name is in the book. First time I ever saw it. Lizzy Trudeaux. Jimmy snuck it in there, just in case. Sneaky son of a . . . [Laughs.]
Paul Reagan—New York Head Coach
I don’t remember what I said, but I remember not being happy about it. I thought Mack was sticking his thumb in our eye. Like, I can’t beat you, so here, I’ll turn this into a circus. He would do that.
Toby Sykes—Trudeaux’s Best Friend
I was streaming the game at home on my phone. I was going crazy when they put her in. I kept yelling, “Oh my god, Lizzy’s on TV! Oh my god, Lizzy’s on TV!” Even though, you know, it was on my phone. The whole thing was surreal.
Edgar Patrick—New York Center
It was surreal, man.
Jack Steele—New York Guard
I don’t know how else to describe it except “surreal.”
Emily Murray—Philadelphia Sports Columnist
You know what’s funny? That famous moment when she first checked in? Almost everyone on press row missed it. There’s this tradition where you write your game story while the game is still happening so all you have to do is plug in the final score and you can make deadline. So a lot of us on press row weren’t even looking when it happened. [Laughs.] That’s about right.
@finkle_and_einhorn_finkle_and_einhorn—Philadelphia, PA
um, anyone watchin’ the bells game right now???
@quackerjacks_17—Wayne, PA
lol why would ANYONE b watching that crap
@finkle_and_einhorn_finkle_and_einhorn—Philadelphia, PA
put it on. trust me.
Tad Wexler—Bells TV Announcer
Oh yeah. We were caught off guard. That’s an understatement. The team had sent out a twelve-word press release overnight, but it got buried—it was a Sunday morning—and the people who did see it figured it was a prank. [Bells color commentator Ovid Green] and I looked at each other like, “Are we in the Twilight Zone?”
Ovid Green—Bells Color Commentator
If you rewatch the broadcast, there’s about a five-second pause when she came in when all you can hear is the rustling of papers. We were stunned, just stunned.
George Van Arden—New York Assistant Coach
If you knew what to look for, everything she would become was right there in that first moment. She had this, I don’t know, this presence about her. This intensity. It was like she’d imagined this moment so many times in her head it was almost normal.
Tim Ferguson—Head Referee
To her credit, she was totally calm. Like any sub, checking in the game. You could tell she felt at home on the basketball court, any basketball court. I waved her in. “Let’s go,” I said. “Let’s go. Let’s play this thing out. There’ll be time for answers later.”
Emily Murray—Philadelphia Sports Columnist
Oh, Spud lost it. [Laughs.] He couldn’t believe they were putting a girl in the game.
Spud Larkin—Famous Movie Director/New York Fan
Listen. I want to be clear about this. I’m an equal-opportunity hater. You’re wearing the other team’s jersey, you’re gonna get it. Period. I had nothing against the girl . . . except that she was wearing a Bells jersey. I was just having fun.
Harry Hawkins—Bells Guard
Spud started in on her right away. Nothing harsh, just stuff like, “This is your team, Philly? This is your team?”
Tad Wexler—Bells TV Announcer
There wasn’t enough time to process the magnitude of the moment. It was just happening. Achebe inbounded the ball to her. I was so flustered I said her name wrong. I was reading it off the back of her jersey. I said, “And they inbound the ball to . . . Trubedeaux?”
Edgar Patrick—New York Center
Nobody knew what to do. A thirteen-year-old girl had just checked into the game. It was crazy. We were all standing up. Everyone left in the building was standing.
Paul Reagan—New York Head Coach
Scootie Sanders was in the game for us. Kinda fitting—a Philly guy. He was the one supposed to be guarding her.
Scootie Sanders—New York Guard
Coach Reagan started hollering, “Back off! Back off!” So I backed off. We all sorta drifted over to the sideline. Got out of the way. The clock was running down.
Jimmy Mack—Bells Head Coach
Oh, man. She didn’t like that.
Alou Achebe—Bells Center
You could tell she didn’t like that.
Bill “Chalk” Rasner—Nationally Syndicated Sportswriter
She did not like that.
Scootie Sanders—New York Guard
So I’m drifting to the sideline, and here she comes, right for me. I didn’t know what to do. I just started running, like, the other way.
Joe Dugan—Bells Beat Writer
Maybe the first time in the history of basketball that the player with the ball was chasing the defender. [Laughs.]
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Spud Larkin—Famous Movie Director/New York Fan
It looked like Sanders had a little bee chasing him. He couldn’t shake her. I started running down the sideline, flipping out.
Toby Sykes—Trudeaux’s Best Friend
A lot of people didn’t get that—her chasing him—but I got it right away. Lizzy is—how to put this?—she’s super competitive. She hates losing, but someone letting her win? That’s even worse. It pissed her off that they weren’t guarding her.
Jimmy Mack—Bells Head Coach
I loved that. I’d a’ done the same thing. There’s time left on the clock, play the game.
Emily Murray—Philadelphia Sports Columnist
She finally picked up her dribble, and I thought—we all thought—okay, that’s it. Now the clock will run out. There were only seven seconds left.
Tad Wexler—Bells TV Announcer
She picked up her dribble, and everyone kind of relaxed, including Sanders. He exhaled and started to turn away. Then . . .
George Van Arden—New York Assistant Coach
Someone told me that YouTube clip has, like, forty million views. The one where it’s a close-up and you can see her mouthing something after she spikes the ball off his legs.
Edgar Patrick—New York Center
It looked like she was playin’ dodgeball.
Scootie Sanders—New York Guard
[Shaking head.] That hurt, man. The ball flew, like, ten rows up. And then, swear to god, she goes, “Guard me, punk.” I said, “Whaaaat?” She said: “You heard me.”
Lizzy Legend Page 8