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Chapter 7
LUCAS
"We are down to the last 10 seconds of this basketball game. 78-76, Ravens in the lead.", the commentator announced, in a very husky voice.
Let's go Tigers! Let's go! Let's go Tigers! Let's go!
The people in the gym were either in crimson or blue shirts, almost all of them were standing. They were roaring their hearts out and clapping their hands in a rhythm to show support for their teams.
Loud banging of the drums, as well, were all over the area. It kept reverberating caused by the high ceiling of our school's gym.
"Time out, Tigers."
"Come on, huddle up. Hustle up. Get over here.", Coach Morrison said, extending his hands on our shoulders.
"Alright, take deep breaths guys. Come on, deep breaths.", I added, totally exhausted.
"You tired boys?"
"No, Coach!"
"You guys, can still run while those boys are completely gassed out. We can make it until overtime. Stephen and Lucas are our first option. We go for a quick two. Push the ball. Go hard to the hole. Everybody, attack the boards, got that?"
"Yes, Coach!"
"Alright, Tigers on three. One, two, three."
"Tigers!!!", all of us growled wildly, putting our hands together in the middle of our huddle.
I could feel the pressure strongly pushing my ass.
Coach relied on me. The team put their trust on me.
I needed to step up this time. I wouldn't miss this shot. We would win this game. State Championship would be at stake.
The ref whistled, indicating that the game continued.
Max, sweat unstoppably poured on his face, was at the sideline for the inbound. He really played hell of a game, 100% in the freethrow line and was 4 out of 6 from the top of the key.
On the other hand, Ty was waving his arms, asking for the ball.
He was a very different person for today's game. He surpassed his career high 17 points. He bagged a couple of jumpers and three's last quarter, cutting the lead to just a possession.
Max saw his persistence and bounced the ball to him.
10.. 9.. 8..
Ty caught the ball with his left, dribbled it for a quick cross over. He couldn't escape his guard. The opponent's arms were stretched sideways, throwing up-down motion. He couldn't pass through him.
7.. 6.. 5..
Just five feet away, Ty spotted the free shooting guard Stephen and immediately released the ball tossing it like a meteor had fallen from the sky.
Stephen jumped before the guy in blue got the chance to steal it. He was able to safely seize the ball in his hand. He was open for a three. He leaped as he straightened his arms for a fade-away three pointer.
The ball smashed into the board, producing a loud thud. He missed it. It was obviously too strong.
I saw a glance of his negative reaction about his failed three-pointer. He was clearly disappointed with his shot.
The clock continued to move. 4.. 3..
I was on my favorite spot, in the paint.
The ball was up for grabs. With just a blink of an eye, my feet were in the air, my hands were reaching for that sphere and ready to place it in the hole just right in front of me.
2.. 1..
The perfect view was shadowed when a man in blue blocked my way to the hole. He intentionally swayed my arms, reason that I lost equilibrium.
The ball fell from my tight grip as I slowly descend, flipping my feet. My right foot had its own instinct that it buried itself on the wooden floor, while my left foot was nowhere to be found.
I twisted my right, the one that would at least save me from that fall, as it plunged heavily on the floor. It was an awful collision with the ground that I almost broke my leg. Gravity, indeed, had done its job.
The balance in my inside had deserted me just when I needed it to back me up. I felt I was betrayed by my own self.
Then, I heard this high toned shrilling sound.
Was it the buzzer? The game is over? Is it over? Did I miss the shot?
To the birds' dismay, the sound came out from the mouth of the referee. It was a total relief on my part. It's like tasting water once more, after a long period of draught.
"Foul, Blue, 18, 4th, Penalty.", the ref yelled, gesturing his hands to the committee table and pointed his index finger to the guy with the number 18 jersey.
"Two shots for Lucas, 'Luuu--ke Skyyy-waaaal--kerrr' Johnson!", the commentator exclaimed, emphasizing on the alias.
Almost all girls in the crowd were screaming like there was no tomorrow just as my name was vocalized through the deafening speakers all around the gym.
Even the ladies from the rival school were cheering for me. They were so loud. that I could barely hear what Max had said to me before I stepped into the free throw line.
"Luke Skywalker, marry me!"
"Please be mine, Lucas!"
"He's mine, whore!"
"Go Luuuuuke! You're so hot!"
Shaking her red bushy pompoms, Jessica was at the other side, together with the squad. She winked her electric blue eyes at me and I tried to smile back.
I blankly stared at the ring in front of me. I swayed my head to look for the score. We were behind by two points.
These were very important baskets. It would take us to overtime.
I could predict that there's a huge possibilty of winning.
Our opponents were completely catching deep breaths and almost on their knees as compared with Stephen, Max and Ty.
The whistle was blown, my signal to let go of the ball in my hand.
My right hand clutched on the ball as support, my knees slightly bent to give exact amount of force my left hand needed in order to push it to its target. I took the first shot.
I perfected this stance back when I was in middle school.
My Dad had been my personal coach since I was five years old. He taught me all his basketball skills and know-how's before he left me and Mom just last month. I didn't have the slightest thought why he went away.
Whoooosh.
The gang in red cried out in joy as the ball zoomed, forming a rainbow down to the round notch. A pot of gold for the whole team.
"Obi Wan really taught Luke Skywalker how to become a real jedi. He gets the first shot!", the bald man with the microphone shouted in a very enthusiastic tone, sounded as if he was C3PO.
We were just an inch away for the tie.
And we would be in overtime, additional five minutes of playing time. I couldn't wait to beat this bunch.
I repeated same and exact stance I was in just a few seconds ago. I stretched my arms in the air, again, and released the hoop of the century.
Most of the crowd were caught open mouthed. Some clasped their both hands to their faces leaving a slit so they could still see the breath-taking shot of the millennium.
The ball as if in slow motion arched its way to the rim of the ring, slowly trailing its circular path.
To everyone's surprise, it slipped outside the perimeter, like something had tipped it to the wrong course.
How in the world did I miss this free throw?
With a second left before the clock struck, I immediately soared my feet, rebounded and crashed the missed ball from the throw in to the circular opening.
1...
0...
Thunderous shouts and ecstatic applaud filled the jam-packed gymnasium. Every people in red were jumping, clapping their hands and shouting repeatedly, "Let's go Tigers! Let's go! Let's go Tigers! Let's go!"
The feeling was very surreal. I really couldn't explain it in words. I was damn thrilled with my conquering dunk.
My team mates hurriedly sprinted into me, as I was still hanging in the ring after the intense-buzzer-beater-dunk. I almost fell onto the wooden floor because I roughly lost my grip from the rim of the ring.
They were frenziedly giving me soft punches in my face and arms.
Ty, on the other hand, twisted his arms on my neck, and the others imitated him, that we all, toppled on the floor.
Unaware of what was happening around us, due to the joyous celebration of our victory, the referees were on the committee table with the whole Ravens' and our coaching staff. They seemed to be discussing on something but I couldn't hear exactly what they were talking about.
The voices coming from the commotion on the table, not far away from where we were, were very indistinct and fuzzy.
Also, I was also being molested by my team mates on the floor under the ring where I slammed the winning shot, that I couldn't understand what was going on.
I caught a glimpse of one referee slowly going out of the ruckus.
He immediately raised his two hands in the air, hastily waved it and yelled, "No basket!!!"
--
Oh my, sorry, I had to do that. They lost and it was Lucas' fault. :(
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