Second-String Center (6 page)

“
That’s
what we need,” Coach yelled. “Keep working in there.”

And as always seemed to happen, Dunk immediately felt better when he made his first good move, whether it was a rebound, a blocked shot, a layup. He
did
belong out there after all.

Lincoln continued its accurate shooting and led 18-9 after one quarter. Dunk went to the bench and Louie took his place. Lamont subbed for Willie, making the Hornets’ lineup a bit taller.

Coach leaned forward on the bench as the second quarter got under way. “Stay alert,” he said, looking at Dunk. “You’ll be right back in there.”

And when Fiorelli got fouled a couple of minutes later, Coach sent Dunk back in for Louie. Lincoln was still ahead by nine.

Fiorelli made the free throws, and Willie made a nice steal in the backcourt, leading to Spencer’s layup. The momentum had shifted in a hurry. Suddenly the Lincoln players looked frustrated.

“Our gym!” Spencer called as the Hornets hustled back on defense. “This is our house.”

Hudson City eventually whittled the lead down to three, and the half-full bleachers came to life. “DE-
fense
!” came the cry. “DE-
fense
!”

Dunk was sweating heavily. He leaned into his opponent, keeping him away from the basket, as Spencer and Willie swarmed all over the Lincoln point guard.

The ball flew into the paint; Jared stepped up and blocked the center’s path. The shot went up, but Jared was all over it, swatting it out-of-bounds as the Hornet fans cheered.

But then came the whistle. Jared’s third foul.

“No!” Jared said, shaking his head in disgust and looking toward the ceiling. “I got all ball.”

But the referee had seen it differently. The Lincoln player made both free throws. Hudson City took another timeout.

Dunk looked at the scoreboard: 26-21. Still nearly three minutes until halftime.

“We’re switching to a zone,” Coach said as they gathered at the bench. “Jared, sit. You can’t afford a fourth foul this half. I want Dunk and Louie underneath; Spencer, Miguel, and Jason out front.”

Dunk caught Louie’s attention and raised his eyebrows slightly. A lot was depending on how the two backups held up under the pressure. Dunk had been playing well, but things would be different with Jared on the bench.

Lincoln did its best to take advantage, pounding the ball inside to the center and forwards.

Fiorelli hit a three-pointer, but Lincoln built the lead back to eight points, then ten.

Time was running out in the half as Spencer brought the ball up one last time. Dunk was panting and sweat was running down his face, but he was ready to expend every ounce of energy he had left.

As the clock wound down, Spencer found Miguel in the corner. The shot looked good, but it rolled around the rim and fell out. The Lincoln center grabbed it and turned, but Dunk swiped it away. He leaned back, jumped, and shot, getting hammered by a pair of Lincoln players as the ball bonked off the rim.

The whistle blew. There was just one second left in the half, but Dunk was going to the free-throw line.

He took a deep breath as the referee handed him the ball. He bent his knees, let out the breath, and calmly sank the first shot.

A cheer went up from the bleachers and the Hornets’ bench. Spencer clapped his hands.

Dunk made the second shot.

That was the half. Lincoln 34, Hudson City 26.

 

 

“You big guys have to really step up,” Spencer said in the locker room.

Coach Davis had already gone over the strategy and pointed out some errors from the first half. He always allowed the captains a few minutes to speak if they wanted to.

“Those guys are huge, and Jared’s in foul trouble,” Spencer continued. “Dunk and Louie, you heard Coach—you gotta come up big.”

Dunk looked down at his size-twelve sneakers. “Yep,” he said softly. He’d wanted a bigger role on this team, and the time was right now. He knew he’d be playing a lot in the second half.

The Hornets started Jared at center, Dunk and Fiorelli at forward, and Willie and Spencer at guard. Fiorelli continued to shoot well, hitting a couple of jumpers, but the Hornets couldn’t make a dent in the lead.

The pace was quick, and Dunk was out of breath as the Hornets raced back on defense midway through the quarter. Dunk’s man was out in front of him, streaking toward the basket with the ball. Only Jared stood between him and an easy layup.

The guy drove to the hoop as Jared darted over. He made a pump-fake in the air and flipped the ball to the player Jared had been covering. Jared was off balance, but he turned and tried to block the shot. The shot missed, but Jared had picked up his fourth foul. One more and he’d be gone.

The horn blew for a sub, and Lamont came running onto the court. Jared started to walk off, but Lamont shook his head and said, “Coach says you’re staying in.” He pointed to Dunk. “You’re out.”

“Quick breather,” Coach said, rising from the bench to pat Dunk on the shoulder.

“Jared’s got four fouls,” Dunk said.

“I know. But we need him out there.”

Dunk wiped his face with a towel and looked under the bench for his water bottle. His chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He’d been burned badly on the last fast break, and it had cost Jared another foul.

Dunk’s memory flashed back to the previous summer, when he’d been inserted at a crucial time during that tournament semifinal. Hudson City had been beating Camden—the best team in the state. Dunk went in on the theory that he’d get fouled and that would result in some automatic points down the stretch. But it hadn’t worked out that way. Dunk had missed three shots out of four while Camden made an amazing comeback.

But today might be different. Just as things were looking bad for the Hornets, the offense came to life. Jared scored on a put-back after Spencer’s miss, and Willie stole the inbounds pass and fed Lamont for a layup.

“Dunk!” Coach called. Dunk stuck his head forward and looked at Coach. “Report in for Jared. Cover their center. Let’s go!”

A little over a minute remained in the third quarter when Dunk finally got in, and Lincoln held a 47-41 lead. The Lincoln center was four inches taller than Dunk and had strong arms and shoulders. He nodded at Dunk and gave a half-smile as the two players set up under the Lincoln basket. “Get me the ball!” he called to the point guard as Lincoln got set to inbound.

Dunk felt a tap on his shoulder. Lamont was leaning toward him. “My guy can’t shoot,” he said softly. “I’ll be helping you out if the ball comes in.”

So Dunk knew he could overplay his man a bit on his right. The Lincoln guards passed the ball back and forth deliberately, looking for an opening.

Dunk clung close to the center, but the guy got loose and the ball came to him just outside the key. Dunk took the chance and blocked the right side. When the center pivoted toward the middle, Lamont was right in his face.

The center shifted back, but Dunk was in his path. He knocked the ball away and Spencer grabbed it. Dunk sprinted up the court.

“Last shot!” came a call from the bench.

Dunk glanced at the clock as it hit twenty seconds. No sense hurrying a shot and giving Lincoln another chance to score before the end of the quarter. Plenty of time to be patient.

But the Lincoln defenders were having none of it, scrambling to make a steal. Spencer’s deft ball-handling kept it safe, but he was still outside the arc with eight seconds remaining.

The ball went to Willie in the corner, but a defender was right on him. Willie stepped left then scooted along the baseline. The Lincoln center stepped out to stop him, leaving Dunk alone under the basket.

Willie passed, but the ball was deflected and Dunk had to lunge for it. He grabbed it with both hands, dribbled once, and got hacked as he took the shot.

Dunk stumbled forward and landed on his side under the basket. From that vantage point, he watched as the ball rolled off the rim and out. But he’d be going to the line again.

“Yeah, Dunk!” yelled Spencer.

Fiorelli ran over and gave Dunk a high five.

Dunk sucked in his breath and made both shots.
I’ll never choke again,
he told himself.

 

 

Though the crowd was small, it sounded like a full house as Hudson City battled its way through the fourth quarter. Each time Lincoln seemed poised to pull away, a Hornet player would make a crucial shot to keep them in it.

Dunk rotated in and out of the lineup with Louie and managed a three-point play when he got fouled shooting a layup. This time the shot went in, and he added his fifth straight free throw.

But he was on the bench when Hudson City’s worst fear came true. Looking to tie the game, Jared drove hard to the hoop and was called for an offensive foul. Less than two minutes remained. Lincoln had a two-point lead and the ball. Jared had fouled out.

Willie called timeout. Jared limped to the bench and sat with his head in his hands. Dunk reported in at center.

Spencer pushed his fist into Dunk’s chest. “We need some
stops
!” he said. “DE-
fense
, brother. Don’t let that man score.”

Dunk did his job the first time down court, sticking to the Lincoln center, who’d had a great game but was clearly tired. Lamont grabbed a rebound after a long miss from outside. He rifled an outlet pass to Fiorelli, who raced across midcourt.

The Hornets were on a three-on-two break, and a layup would tie the score. But Spencer took a pass at the top of the key, dribbled once, and shot. The three-pointer ripped through the net, and Hudson City had its first lead of the game.

Spencer leaped into the air with both fists raised. Willie and Fiorelli applied pressure in the backcourt; Lamont and Dunk held their ground on defense.

“I’m here,” Lamont said to Dunk. “If he gets the ball, I’m with you.”

“He” meant Lincoln’s center, the most likely target. He’d scored nearly twenty points this afternoon and was the primary reason Jared had fouled out. But he was Dunk’s responsibility now.

Lincoln was patient; all they needed was one score. They passed the ball around for most of a minute, then finally bounced it inside. The center took control, and Lamont stepped over to help out. The man remembered what had happened last time he got double-teamed, and he protected the ball as he pivoted and leaped.

Dunk held his spot, firmly planting his feet as the center charged into him. The collision knocked Dunk on his butt. The whistle blew. Offensive foul!

Lincoln was over the foul limit, so Dunk would be shooting free throws.

Lamont stuck out his hand and pulled him to his feet. “Ninety-nine percent!” Lamont said firmly. “You don’t ever miss.”

Dunk made both shots. He was seven-for-seven from the line today. More important than that, the Hornets had a three-point lead.

Time was moving quickly, and Lincoln needed a big shot to send the game into overtime. With Spencer in his face, the point guard sent a long, arcing shot toward the rim. It hit the back of the iron and bounced high into the air. Lamont slapped at it, and it rolled toward the corner. Willie scooped it up and immediately called timeout.

There were seven seconds on the clock. “Easy decision,” Coach said as the Hornets huddled up. “Spencer, pass the ball in. Dunk, get open. They have to foul whoever gets the ball. I want that man to be you.”

Lincoln put its center in front of Spencer at the sideline and the quicker forward on Dunk. As Spencer took the ball, Lamont looped around and set a screen, and Dunk stepped out for the ball.

He was immediately fouled as he grabbed it, but the play had been a success. All of Dunk’s teammates were standing and hollering. One free throw would seal this game. Dunk would be shooting two.

He’d been in this position before. He’d thought about it all summer and fall.

He shut his eyes quickly, exhaled hard, and made the first shot.

He made the second one, too. When the horn sounded a few seconds later to end the game, the Hornets mobbed him.

The second-string center had come through.

T
he rowdy locker room felt like a paradise to Dunk. The Hornets had scored a huge come-from-behind victory, and he’d been the fourth-quarter star.

“Thirteen points?” he said in surprise when he heard the statistics. He’d never scored ten before, even in a summer-league game.

“You were the man today,” Lamont said, punching him lightly on the arm.

“You, too,” Dunk said with a big smile. “Great help defending that big guy.”

“Total team effort,” Fiorelli was saying. “I mean, our boys come off the bench and knock heads with Lincoln’s best.
Totally
outstanding performance.”

“I’ve got something to say,” Spencer said loudly, climbing onto a bench and standing with his hands up. “This team is out of sight! Even when our starting center has another terrible game, somebody else steps up and dominates. That’s how you win championships. I can’t wait until we play Palisades again.”

Most of the players cheered. Dunk glanced over at Jared, who didn’t look happy. That “terrible” remark had to sting.

No one else seemed to notice that Jared dressed quickly and left the locker room. Dunk was bare-foot and still in his uniform shorts, but he pulled on his jacket and stepped outside.

He saw Jared at the edge of the outside basketball court, getting into his father’s car. Dunk called his name, but the door slammed shut and the car pulled away.

Dunk stood in the dark with his hands on his hips, his feet ice cold on the blacktop. He stood there for about two minutes, then went inside and got dressed. The rest of the team was still celebrating. Dunk got dressed and left for home.