Haley Stephens on another switch, everyone milling inside, screening, turning, heading out…
…ball in the hands of Latoya Peterson.
“Look for it, LaToya, look for the opening…”
…there it is.
Nina:
“Charge.”
Latoya barrels through the opening, top of key free throw line, fakes right then back…
TWEET!
“Foul!”
Pause.
“Number fifty-four! You’re blocking her!”
Howls from the Hattiesburg bench.
WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!
SHE WAS CHARGING!
Latoya at the line.
Clang.
Swish.
One of two.
Four to one.
Hattiesburg ball.
Cross court.
Ball inside STOLEN by Haley fast break, down court one on two…
“Slow it down,” whispers Nina.
Haley does.
Work it, work it, then the ball back in Haley’s hands, shot clock now at ten seconds, now at eight seconds, Maggie again…
Charge.
TWEET!
Foul! Number thirty-four, blue!”
“That’s all right.”
Hattiesburg’s ball. Missed shot, long rebound…
Take it slow, Mariners…
Weave, weave, watch for it…
Charge.
“Foul!”
ON WHO REF?
“Number fifty-one, you’re blocking her!”
OH FOR GODS SAKE REF!
Shots for LaToya.
Swish.
Swish.
Four to three.
But more important:
One foul on each of the McNulty sisters.
One each on Maggie and LaToya.
Nina looked at her bench: Patricia, Emily, Patty…
Her five reserves had twenty-five fouls to give. Her four starters had sixteen, and they would still be in the game.
Forty-one fouls.
“And you two,” she whispered at the McNulty girls, who were taking their place under the basket on defense, standing their ground, waiting for the next attack, “you two have eight left.”
Move the ball move the ball move the ball there’s the opening there’s the opening DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE FAKE LEFT MAKE HER SLAP AT YOU…
TWEET!
“Number fifty-two, you’re blocking!”
“Two on you, Nicki McNulty,” whispered Nina. “Three to go.”
Time out.
What are they going to do now?
They’re going to fall back into the middle.
Ok, let them try.
Nina in the circle, scribbling madly with chalk on the gym floor.
“Starters back in! Great job, Maggie and LaToya!”
Instructions given.
Ball thrown in.
Bring it on down…
Yep, there they are, all back, all knotted up under the basket.
Ok try that and see what it gets you.
Weave outside weave outside weave outside use the clock use the clock use the clock then the ball back in Haley’s hands, shot clock now at ten seconds, now at eight seconds, back to Sonia for the long, arching…
SWISH!
THREE!
BLAAAAAHHHH DE BLAAAAH DEBLAAAAH.
CHEER CHEER FOR ST LUCY HIGH
BRING ON THE WHISKEY BRING ON THE RYE!
Steal.
Slow it down.
Weave outside weave outside weave outside use the clock use the clock use the clock then the ball back in Sonia’s hands, shot clock now at ten seconds, now at eight seconds, back to Amanda for the long, arching…
SWISH!
THREE!
And Nina whispering:
“You just stay sucked up inside there. See what it gets you.”
Time out.
Hattiesburg fans bellowing at the referee.
Is that the same referee who threw Nina out?
Yep.
But now Nina is standing stock still, staring straight in front of her.
Ball in play.
Hattiesburg in a normal defense.
“Okay, Patricia, Emily, you both know what to do.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Go get ‘em!”
Subs in.
Hattiesburg brings the ball up.
Nicki McNulty up for an easy two.
“That’s ok, that’s ok…”
Haley off to Alyssha over Emily…
“Charge.”
Emily explodes into the paint hurtles at one of the blonde bodies in front of her fakes right fakes left comes up under SLAP ball blocked away…
TWEET!
OH COME ON REF!
“Number sixteen you’re charging her!
YES!
NOW YOU’RE CALLING THE GAME REF!
That’s ok. One on Patricia, one on LaToya, one on Maggie…
Three on the McNultys.
Twelve minutes left in the half.
Nick McNulty spin shot.
Clang.
“You getting tired of playing defense, Nicki McNulty?”
Bay St. Lucy ball.
Weave weave weave weave…
Charge!
TWEET!
“Blocking on number fifty-one!
YOU IDIOT YOU IDIOT
Paper cups raining down on the court.
The battle progresses.
Eleven minutes to go in the half.
Hattiesburg twenty three, Bay St. Lucy twelve.
Patricia: three fouls
Emily: three fouls
Latoya: two fouls
Patty: three fouls.
Hattiesburg in the bonus.
“Can you hit free throws?”
Clang.
Clang.
No. Okay for you then.
Weave weave weave..
“Charge.”
TWEET!
“Number fifty-one you’re blocking her!”
More howls, more cups.
Nina whispers:
“That’s number three, Nicki. And your sister has three also.”
Steal!
Shot by Bay St. Lucy!
Swish!
Three!
Up and down the court, up and down the court…
Use the whole army.
“Patty, in for Samantha!”
Amanda over to Sonia, in to Patty…
Charge.
Patty hurling herself again at the basket, whap, sprawled on the floor ball batted away…
TWEET!
“Blocking, number 51.”
“And that,” Nina whispers, “is number four on you.”
Coach in the face of the referee, bellowing, screaming:
“THEY’RE TARGETING OUR GIRLS! THEY’RE TARGETING OUR GIRLS!”
Referee approaching Nina.
Nina standing stock still, simply staring across the court.
“Coach…”
“Yes, Ref?”
“He says you’re targeting his players!”
Nina looks at the referee.
“Yes, we are.”
And the ref smiles.
“Well. That’s your prerogative.”
“Yes, it is.”
Game on again.
Back and forth, back and forth.
Five minutes left in the half.
Hattiesburg thirty seven, Bay St. Lucy twenty one.
Charge.
Charge.
Charge.
TWEET!
“Number fifty-one, you’re blocking her.”
Four fouls.
Four.
“So what are you going to do now, Coach?” Nina whispers. “She has four. You want to take her out?”
Time out.
Nicki McNulty out of the game.
And Nina shaking her head.
“That’s a big mistake.”
Her players circle around her.
“You know who to take it to
now.”
“YEAAH!”
Game on.
Weave weave weave weave…
Maggie St. Clair launches herself like a missile at Theresa McNulty.
Foul on Maggie.
Next possession.
LaToya attacks.
Foul on LaToya.
Next possession.
Emily attacks.
And feints left.
Foul…
…on Theresa McNulty.
Four on her.
Up and back, up and back…
Blaaaarrrr!
Halftime horn.
Hattiesburg forty three, Bay St. Lucy twenty nine.
The McNulty girls have four fouls apiece.
They are on the bench as the second half begins.
Weave weave weave Samantha for three:
SWISH!
Next time down…
Weave weave weave Alyssha drives the middle!
Layup.
Nobody there to stop them.
“Infantry, infantry,” whispers Nina. “Hancock’s middle softening up.”
FAST BREAK BAY ST. LUCY!
TWO!
Forty five to thirty one.
BLAAAAH DE BLAAAAAH DE BLAAAAH!
Rest rest
BLAAAAH DE BLAAAH DE BLAAAHH!
Alyssha all alone inside.
Layup.
Forty one to thirty three.
Time out.
“Okay Coach. What are you going to do? Put them both back in? Or just one?”
Both McNulty girls back in the game.
And the Bay St. Lucy bench staring at them.
Nina to her team:
“I see you stand like greyhounds in the slip! Once more into the breach, dear subs!”
Blaaarr!
Horn sounds.
“Ok, girls. Go get ‘em.”
Five minutes into the second half, the first McNulty girl fouls out.
Forty four to thirty three.
Patricia, Emily, Maggie, and LaToya are gone.
Two more minutes and Patty drives.
TWEET!
“Number fifty-one, you’re…”
REF YOU IDIOT! YOU IDIOT!
Paper cups everywhere.
The second McNulty girl, incensed, shouting, red-faced, stalks to the bench.
Both McNulty girls are gone.
And Nina, always standing in one place, turns her head, stares straight into the Hattiesburg bench, and whispers:
“Now how tough are you?”
“Father said clocks slay time.”
––William Faulkner, The Sound and the Fury
Eleven minutes to go.
Nina is now moving from cone to cone, shouting at the top of her lungs:
“Front her, Sonya! No, closer! Atta girl! Move in behind, Alyssha! NO! NO! MOVE AMANDA! That’s right; that’s…Now…now get into the press now DOUBLE TEAM DOUBLE TEAM DOUBLE TEAM…
“GAME CHANGE!”
“THAT’S RIGHT TAKE IT FROM HER TAKE IT FROM HER TAKE IT FROM HER! YES YES YES YES …TWO! TWO! TWO! TWO!”
On you Mare ners On you Mare ners
FAT FAT FAT FAT FAAAAAT!
“Get back get back double down double down on her KEEP PRESSINGKEEPPRESSING…
“GAME CHANGE!”
“WATCH THAT BASELINE DO NOT LET HER TAKE YOU DEEP HAYLEY STAY IN FRONT OF HER!”
“MOVE HER DOWN MOVE HER DOWN WATCH THE PICK WATCH THE PICK OK OK NICE PASS NOW SCREEN AND ROLL SCREEN AND ROLL SHOT SHOT SHOT! TWO TWO TWO ATTAGIRL ATTAGIRL!
Cheer cheer for St. Luuucy Hiiiigh!
Bring on the whiskey bring on the rye!
Ever loyal to those mare ners
Fighting for victory!
Six and a half minutes to go.
Fifty four to forty eight.
Baddadadadadda…
“NO DON’T LET HER SLIP BACK DOOR ON YOU BABY FRONT HER POST HER UP POST HER…OH!”
“GAME CHANGE! GAME CHANGE!”
“YES! YES, WAY TO PICK IT UP YOU MARINERS! NOW THREE QUARTER WATCH CENTER COURT WATCH THE SNOWBIRD WATCH THE SNOWBIRD THAT’S GOOD ALYSSHA HAWK HER HAWK HER PRESS PRESS PRESS PRESS…”
“GAME CHANGE!”
Foul.
Haley at the line.
Swish.
Swish.
“ATTAGIRL NOW STAY AGGRESSIVE STAY AGGRESSIVE! MAN DEFENSE NOW SLIP INTO NUMBER TWO ATTACK NUMBER TWO WAY TO MOVE SONIA TAKE IT TAKE IT TAKE IT YES YES YES NOW…”
“GAME CHANGE!”
“GREAT STEAL SHE’S OPEN DOWN COURT HIT HER HIT HER NICE PASS LAYUP YES!”
“GAME CHANGE”
“NOW DOUBLE DOWN POST HER UP POST HER UP POST HER UP!…”
Three and a half minutes left.
Fifty eight to fifty four.
“Front her, Sonya! No, closer! Atta girl! Move in behind, Alyssha!
NO! NO! MOVE AMANDA! That’s right that’s…. Now…now get into the press now DOUBLE TEAM DOUBLE TEAM DOUBLE TEAM…
“GAME CHANGE!”
“THAT’S RIGHT TAKE IT FROM HER TAKE IT FROM HER TAKE IT FROM HER! YES YES YES YES …TWO! TWO! TWO! TWO!”
“GAME CHANGE!”
Two minutes left.
One minute left.
Thirty seconds.
Sixty to fifty eight.
Foul.
Alyssha at the line.
Swish.
Clang.
Sixty to fifty nine.
Hattiesburg ball.
Time out, Bay St. Lucy.
The players come to the bench.
Nina kneels in the circle and looks up at them:
“Twenty eight seconds left. The shot clock is off. They have a one point lead. All they have to do is hold onto the ball. If we foul them, they get two shots. They make those and we’re down by three. We could tie with a three. Or we could just go take the ball away from them! What do you want to do?’
Ten faces staring down at her.
All of them grinning as one.
And all shouting:
“PICKETT’S CHARGE!”
And Nina responding:
“OKAY! GO TAKE THAT WALL!”
Hattiesburg inbounds.
“Front her, Sonya! No, closer! Atta girl! Move in behind, Alyssha! NO! NO!
Clock winding down.
Twenty seconds.
Fourteen seconds.
Eight seconds.
“MOVE AMANDA! That’s right that’s…. Now…now get into the press now DOUBLE TEAM DOUBLE TEAM DOUBLE TEAM…
And the ball is knocked away at the free throw line on the Hattiesburg end of the court.
Four players fighting for it.
Slap and the ball rolling toward mid court.
Four seconds, three…
Alyssha Bennett running fast as she can scoops up the ball dribbles once dribbles again crosses half court…
One second…
SHOOT!
…and the ball arches upward, soaring toward the rafters, Alyssha falling and sliding forward as the horn sounds.
The ball is flying.
Time stops.
“For every southerner there is the instant when it’s still not yet two o’clock on that July afternoon in 1863, the brigades are in position behind the rail fence, the guns are laid and ready in the woods and the furled flags are already loosened to break out… and that moment we all think This time. Maybe this time with all this much to lose and all this much to gain… to crown with desperate and unbelievable victory the desperate gamble, the cast made so many years ago....” ––Faulkner, Intruder in the Dust
SWISH.
An instant’s pause.
Then:
OHMYGODOHBYGODOHMYGOD!
And the gym is chaos.
Nina could remember taking two steps out on the court, remember the clacking of her high heels, remember the people flooding beside her, all moving in the same direction; then she was caught up in it, and for some reason the stream came to mind, the kayak, the rush of it all and the imposs
ible mixture of sounds.
WE’RE GOING TO STATE WE’RE GOING TO STATE WE’RE GOING TO STATE!
OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD
Now she was off the ground.
Going up, going up, carried, flat on her back, the thick, light blue, diamond-shaped rafters of the gym ceiling above her.
The whole huge yellow hot-dogged pulsing quivering shouting irrational one-being crowd was chanting:
NINA! NINA! NINA! NINA!
And:
ALYSSHA! ALYSSHA! ALYSSHA!
They were carrying her.
The town was carrying her!
But players all over the court were being carried!
Sonya, screaming deliriously as she, also flat on her back and floating in the waves that were people’s arms, piston-pumped her fists YEAH YEAH YEAH heavenward…
…as if heaven were anywhere other than here right now…
NINA! NINA! NINA!
ALYSSHA! ALLYSHA! ALYSSHA!
SONIA! SONIA! SONIA!
HAYLEY! HAYLEY! HALEY!
AMANDA! AMANDA! AMANDA!
It swirled around and around and around and around and the band blared…
BLAAAAH DE BLAAAH DE BLAAAAH!
Rest rest
BLAAAHH DE BLAAAH DE BLAAAH!
And the people blared:
WE’RE GOING TO STATE WE’RE GOING TO STATE WE’RE…
And the sea looked in from out where it was and laughed.
And the moon looked down from up where it was and laughed.
And the universe looked everywhere from the everywhere it was and laughed.
And things were right in Bay St. Lucy.
The crowd poured out of the gym and onto the streets, finding that everyone else was there also. It was Mardi Gras in Mississippi. Players, coaches, parents, grandparents, loved ones, neighbors, stray dogs, raccoons, and novelists careened through the town, which, being a seaside resort, lived its existence continually in a kind of mild buzz but seldom if ever got completely drunk.
This all changed on the night of the Hattiesburg victory.
Everyone loved one another. Everyone grouped together in little caramel-clusters of humanity and careened from street to street, forming streams of jubilation and singing and hugging and yelling out cheers to other groups of people, who were going in the opposite directions.
“Everyone’s meeting on the town square!”
“Come on come on come on come on!”
Nina Bannister was ultimately put down but she was never exactly let go.
Mobs of people continued to embrace her; the players cried in her arms, and she soon found that her voice, which had been screaming something or other for an indeterminate amount of time, had gone from Lauren Bacall to Woody Woodpecker.
Somewhere—she had lost track of the streets—she found herself encircled by reporters, flash bulbs exploding no more than a foot or so in front of her.
Game Change: A Nina Bannister Mystery (The Nina Bannister Mysteries Book 3) Page 23