Jump Shot (11 page)

The game began, and Tiki cheered from the bench as the Eagles put on a clinic in passing and defense. Almost every time down the court, everyone on the team touched the ball at least once. Tiki was sure that had never happened with Sugar at the point guard position.

On defense, the Eagles were all over the ball-carrier. Bobby was holding his own against a much bigger center for the Rockets. And Ronde kept finding Rory in the open, where he sank his first four shots in a row.

By the time Tiki got in the game, and Ronde sat down, the Eagles were up by six points, and the crowd in the North Side gym was beginning to get restless. Tiki started right in by stealing the inbounds pass, then chucking it upcourt to Rory, who laid it in for the score!

Quickly, Tiki got back on D. Just in time, too. The
Rockets' shooting guard nearly bowled him over, but Tiki had established position, and the ref called the other kid for a charging foul.

Tiki took the ball downcourt. He looked for Rory, but could see that he was gassed. Rory was breathing heavily, his hands on his hips. Instead, Tiki found Bobby under the basket, and he sank the shot with a foul on top of it.

Coach Jackson sent Ronde back in and called Rory to the bench. Tiki beamed. For the first time in any sport, he and his twin were in a game at the same time, on the same team! Tiki was now the shooting guard, with Ronde taking over at the point.

Each time up the court on offense, Tiki would put on one of the patented moves he'd perfected on the football field. Ronde, who knew him better than anyone, would pass the ball to him in stride, timing it perfectly so that Tiki could get the shot off cleanly. The Eagles went on another run, and by the time Tiki sat down again, they were up by twelve points!

“This is even better than in the driveway!” Tiki yelled to his brother after one play, and Ronde nodded back, laughing.

North Side called another time-out. Tiki high-fived the entire bench, including Rory, who said as he was going back in, “This is the best we've played all year—thanks to you two guys!”

Tiki was pleased, but a little embarrassed. He knew Sugar Morton was a much better basketball player than either him or Ronde. But sometimes, he knew, it mattered more how well your teammates played
around
you.

Today, they were playing with fire and passion, and the Rockets were in full panic mode. Oh, they'd be making it to the play-offs, whatever happened today, Tiki knew. Still, the shame of losing to a much weaker team was not pleasant, especially if you were in first place and thought of yourselves as the best in the league.

At halftime, the Eagles held an eight-point lead. Ronde and Tiki had tired at the same time, and there was no other substitute at guard. The Rockets had taken advantage with a little run of their own in the final two minutes, to make the score respectably close and give themselves a fighting chance in the second half.

In the locker room, Tiki urged the rest of the team to keep it up. “We've got to play the whole twenty minutes, not just fifteen or seventeen,” he told them. “That team over there is too good. If we let up the least little bit, they'll sense it, and knock us flat.”

“We're short one man,” Rory pointed out. “I was running on empty there at the end, and we had a small forward playing out of position to fill in.”

“Well, you've got to find your second wind,” Tiki said flatly. “Don't worry, it's in there somewhere. Just
keep telling yourself to
play proud
, and you'll find it.”

Rory nodded, his jaw set with determination.

“We are not going down today!” Ronde said, and they all cheered as they headed out for the second half.

At the beginning of the game, the Rockets had been ambushed by the Eagles' energy. By now, though, they knew what they were up against. They would be confident in themselves, and why not? They were used to winning. They could always dial it up a notch when they had to, and they knew it.

Winning this game was going to take some doing, Tiki realized. He took a few pretend shots, without the ball, just to visualize it properly in his head. And then the whistle blew, and the second half began.

Rory Mathis started out on fire. He sank three straight shots, one of them a three-pointer, to give the Eagles a comfortable lead again. Tiki saw how Ronde would look for Rory, finding him with the pass at just the right moment—a second after he'd made his move, creating the space for the drive to the basket or the open jump shot.

Tiki had been right about the Rockets, too, though. Soon, they got their game together, and started swarming Ronde and Rory. Unlike Sugar, neither of them was very good at maintaining possession in the face of a double-team. They coughed up the ball four straight times, and finally, Coach Jackson had to call a time-out.

He put Tiki in for Ronde. Rory had to stay in the game, even though he was clearly flagging. Coach Jackson had been short by two players for this game, and he'd replaced them both with only one—Tiki. He might have fresh legs and wind, but he couldn't replace two tired guards at once!

The Rockets knew it. They eased up on Rory and focused all their pressure on Tiki. However, unlike Ronde, Tiki was used to keeping hold of the ball while under pressure. He stayed with his dribble now, and managed to find Rory open.

If Rory hadn't been so tired, he surely would have made the open shot. Instead, he left the ten-footer short. It barely even grazed the rim before hitting Bobby in the head and bouncing right to the Rockets' point guard. He raced right past the startled Eagle defenders, including Tiki, who was caught flat-footed. The kid laid the ball in, and suddenly, the Eagles' lead was all the way back down to one.

Tiki was determined to turn things around, but Rory needed a break, and Ronde was still getting his. Tiki slowed things down, playing catch with Bobby Dominic—in toward the basket, back out toward the point—until the clock wound down to five seconds. Then, passing it to Bobby one last time, he yelled, “Shoot!”

Bobby wasn't a bad athlete. He even had a bit of shooting touch. But he had never in his life been ordered
to shoot. He stared at Tiki as he caught the ball, a look of utter confusion on his face.

“SHOOT!” Tiki screamed.

The buzzer went off with the ball still in Bobby's hands. Tiki wanted to react, to moan or throw his hands in the air. But he knew that would only discourage Bobby, and the Eagles needed all hands on deck. “Don't sweat it,” he told Bobby instead as they backed up on defense. “Go for it next time.”

Bobby nodded, his eyes regaining their focus. Next thing Tiki knew, Bobby had knocked the ball away from the Rockets' center. Tiki pounced on it, and a North Side player pounced on him. The whistle blew. “Foul!” yelled the referee.

Tiki went to the free-throw line with a one-on-one opportunity. If he sank the first shot, he got another. If he missed it . . . well, that was it.

He glanced at the sideline, and saw that Ronde was up and ready to come in between free throws. Tiki knew Rory was done. He was bent over, hands on his hips, staring at the floor. He'd been on the floor most of the first half, and hadn't had a break yet in the second. He'd been double-teamed the whole time.

Tiki knew he needed to sink this shot. He tossed it up. It clanged off the back of the rim. Tiki winced, and shouted, “No!” but it had no effect.

The Rockets dribbled back upcourt. Ronde remained
on the sideline. And Rory, gasping for breath, was way behind the play.

His man raced for the basket. The point guard threw an alley-oop. Rory's man grabbed it in mid-flight and laid it up and in. The Rockets had their first lead of the game!

By the time Ronde did manage to get back in the game, with ten minutes left to play, the Eagles were down by five.

Ronde was a great passer, but he needed Tiki to get free, and to sink his shots. Tiki knew the game depended on him now. If he could keep the Eagles close until Rory got his wind back, the Eagles would get a hugely needed boost.

Tiki regretted now that he'd ever bragged, to Ronde or anyone else, about his shooting prowess. It was one thing to sink a shot in your own driveway, or at the playground. It was another to sink one on the court against a first-place team, when
so much
was on the line.

He'd never been this nervous on the football field, and Tiki thought he knew why. His talents on the gridiron were so strong that he'd always had a certain inner confidence. No matter what, deep down in his core, he knew he could force his will on the game, and turn the outcome his team's way most of the time.

He had no such confidence on the basketball court.
On the other hand, he did know how to be a team player. Right now, that meant getting free and sinking shots. Tiki forced all other thoughts—all doubts, all fears, all distractions—out of his head. He focused entirely on his man, on the ball, and on the basket.

The Rockets were swarming Ronde now. They obviously didn't fear Tiki, leaving him guarded by only one man. Tiki put a double-deke move on him, then held his hands up for the ball.

It was there, as soon as he turned to look. Ronde had timed the pass perfectly! Turning to the basket, Tiki put the ball up off the backboard, right in stride. Two points!

“Come on! Defense!” Tiki yelled as they jogged backward up the court. And now, the rest of the team seemed to rise to the moment. Larry Budnick blocked a shot, with Jake Lewis grabbing the rebound and outlet passing it to Ronde.

Tiki trailed his twin at a run. Ronde launched a no-look pass to him over his right shoulder. Tiki grabbed it, planted his feet, and let go a jumper.
Swish!

Suddenly, there was an air of panic in the Rockets' home gym. The Rockets themselves seemed to share in the feeling. They were not used to being outplayed this late in a game. They launched two wild passes that resulted in turnovers.

Both times, Ronde managed to find the free man—Larry
once, and then Tiki again. When he put it through the hoop from long range, it gave the Eagles a four-point lead, with only six minutes left in the game.

There was a tension in the Rockets now, a wild look in their eyes. They seemed to stumble and lose their rhythm as a team. Tiki watched from the bench, out of breath, as a refreshed Rory reentered the fray, and proceeded to nail three straight jumpers.

The Rockets began fouling, a sure sign of desperation. And even though a lot of the Eagles missed their free throws, the Rockets couldn't convert on offense.

The Eagles defense was playing inspired ball. Everyone was helping everyone else whenever they needed it, and the mighty North Side Rockets just couldn't find a way to score.

In the end, the score was 71–58, Eagles. The team was back at .500, with one game left to play. They'd beaten the runaway league leaders convincingly, without their superstar! They could go forward with confidence now into their final game.

Except for one thing,
thought Tiki. In that final game, he would not be on the team. Dave Bassin would be back from his injury, presumably. And Sugar's suspension would be over. There would be no room for Tiki on the team he'd just helped lead to victory—and everyone in the visiting locker room knew it.

One by one, they all came up to Tiki and shook his
hand and hugged him. “Thanks,” they all said. “You played awesome ball.”

Tiki felt good that he'd played so well. Best of all was that he and Ronde together had led the team to this important victory.

Ronde would be back at substitute shooting guard for the final game. And Tiki would be back at Landzberg's, shuffling boxes between shelves.

He and Ronde exchanged their personal handshake and hugged each other. “That goes on our lifetime highlight reel, yo,” said Ronde with a wide grin.

“Yeah,” said Tiki, his feelings in turmoil.

“You were fantastic, Tiki. I've got to give it up to you. You said you could shoot, and you proved it. No doubt.”

“You got me the ball at the right time,” said Tiki modestly.

“I did, didn't I?” Ronde agreed with a big smile. “But you put the ball in the net. I could not have done that.”

“Well, you'd better practice between now and next game,” Tiki pointed out.

“Why? You think Sugar's gonna get me the ball? Come on.”

Tiki shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe he read my column and will change his mind.”

“Yeah,” said Ronde with a sad laugh. “And maybe I'll find a hundred-dollar bill in the street.”

•  •  •

Funny,
thought Tiki afterward,
how life turns out. Just when you think there's no way around an obstacle, something surprising happens, and there is the way, staring you in the face
.

He was late getting to the team bus—last one out of the locker room. As he crossed the empty North Side gym, he heard a familiar voice call out to him. “Barber!”

He stopped, looking up at the bleachers. There was Sugar Morton, coming down the rows toward him! He walked straight up to Tiki, looking right at him.

“What are you doing here?” Tiki asked.

“It's a free country, isn't it?” Sugar retorted. “I rode over on my bike.”

“That's what, three miles?” Tiki tried to guess. “Weren't you freezing?”

Sugar shrugged. “I wasn't going to miss this game.” He had a bitter look on his face. “No matter what anybody says, I
do
care about this team.”

“I know you do,” Tiki said. “Um, listen, they're all waiting for me on the bus. . . .”

“Yeah, anyway, what I wanted to say . . . I saw the whole game. You and Ronde did a great job running the team.”

“Huh?” Tiki was stunned. It was the last thing he'd expected Sugar to say.

“You got the whole team playing great. And they beat a great squad on their home court. When I get back, I'm
going to run the team just like you guys did . . . spread the ball around more. You really showed me something, man.”