The last play of the first quarter. Twenty seconds remained on the clock. Maurice was dribbling the ball, marginalized in the corner and flanked by two defenders while he searched for any opening to pass through.
His breathing was heavy while his hand kept bouncing the ball—perhaps subconsciously or in an attempt to concentrate on the game.
Out of the corner of his eye, he witnessed what the coach had told him: the other corner was free, and that damn rookie was raising his hand, calling for the ball. This was something completely unacceptable to him, but remembering the coach's words, he decided to pass the ball, although not very well.
"Idiot," was the only thing Aaron could think when he saw Maurice effectively passing the ball in his direction, but it was a high pass, one he could barely catch by jumping.
Without wasting a second, Aaron did exactly that—he jumped as high as possible and managed to catch the ball. Seeing this, the Gaels' players immediately rushed toward him, taking advantage of the fact that Aaron was in the air with ten seconds remaining in the first quarter.
Once his feet touched the ground, Aaron crouched and put his elbows out to protect possession of the ball against the players who approached like hunting dogs on the prowl. One of them arrived first and positioned himself in front of him, blocking his path to the hoop.
"Not so fast," he said, stepping into a defensive stance with the objective of interfering and burning the remaining time.
Out of the corner of his eye, Aaron managed to see that there were five seconds left, so he quickly made a decision.
Approaching the player in front of him, he began pushing as much as possible, seeking contact and interfering with him. "What do you think you're doing?" the player in front of him asked, confused, while also pushing back, not letting himself be moved so easily.
After that, a look of surprise and incredulity crossed his face as he felt Aaron stop pushing, causing him to momentarily lose his balance and giving Aaron enough time to spin to the right and create space to jump and shoot.
"No," he thought quickly, jumping as fast as he could, but not fast enough. He watched with horror as the ball escaped Aaron's hands and headed straight toward the hoop, followed by the buzzer indicating the end of the first quarter.
In that moment, the eyes of everyone in the stadium were on the ball heading toward the rim; one half was anxious, while the other crossed their fingers, hoping the ball would miss.
For Aaron, it seemed as if the exterior noise didn't exist. He only had his eyes on the ball, which hit the rim and began to bounce slightly, generating anxiety and exasperation for everyone.
But sometimes destiny is cruel. Just when it seemed like the ball was going to go into the hoop, it changed its mind and spun out. The shot fell outside the rim, making the All Hallows students and parents sigh in relief, while the Christ the King fans put their hands on their heads.
"Ugh," Aaron said, lifting his head to look at the ceiling while keeping his hands on his waist, exasperated for having missed the shot. Then his gaze couldn't help but fix on the scoreboard.
18-15, Royals up by three.
They were winning, but by a minimal three-point lead. "If only I had made that basket, we would be up by..." were Aaron's thoughts as he reconsidered that last shot he took.
Shaking his head, he decided to concentrate on the game and the fact that there were still three more quarters to play. "Let's concentrate on the next play," he thought, then walked quickly to his side of the court to drink water and wipe off his sweat.
"Good job out there, boys," Coach Arbitello began while the players were drinking water and drying off, preparing for the next quarter. "Aaron," the coach said suddenly, making the mentioned player lift his head.
"Good shot at the end," the coach said with a smile, trying to prevent Aaron from agonizing over missing a shot that could have increased the team's lead.
"I'll do better next time," was the only response the coach received from Aaron, who had a firm and resolute gaze without any sign of guilt on his face. This was something that truly surprised the coach.
Generally, the problem with coaching high school players was adjusting their mentality, as most of the time players crumble in decisive or high-pressure moments—something Coach Arbitello had experience dealing with.
But with Aaron, it was different. He was mature for his age and had a mentality rarely seen in someone his age. Generally, a player's reaction to that would be to blame themselves or get depressed, but instead, he was already thinking about the next play.
Coming out of his thoughts, he regained his senses and grabbed his clipboard, ready to organize the strategy. "Alright boys, attention." Grabbing the marker, he began to draw lines on his board and then started his explanation.
"The Gaels are applying a man-to-man defense," he began, explaining what he had seen in the last eight minutes of the first quarter. "But when Maurice has the ball near the hoop, one leaves his mark and joins the other, forcing Maurice into a 2-on-1," he said while drawing on his board. "So we will use Maurice to draw a player in, and we will take advantage of that gap to pass the ball to the other corner," he finished saying, seeing the reactions of the players—some nodding while others had their brows furrowed.
"Aaron," Coach Arbitello suddenly addressed him, making everyone's gaze fall upon him. "We will take advantage of the fact that Maurice will capture the players' attention so that you can shoot as much as you can at the hoop," the coach sentenced, fixing his gaze on Aaron's. "Do you think you can do it?" He asked the question, waiting for Aaron's response, which didn't take long to arrive.
"I've got it," he said without taking his eyes off the coach, who gave him a smile before hearing the referee's whistle indicating the start of the second quarter.
"Let's go boys, bring the victory home," the coach finished encouraging them while the players stood up and entered the court again.
With the ball in the Gaels' possession, the player quickly took the ball out with the objective of scoring points before the Royals' team warmed up, but for better or worse, the ball fell to the player near Aaron.
"Bad luck, kid," the opposing point guard said, dribbling the ball hard, making the sound resonate throughout the gym.
Taking advantage of being shorter and therefore having a lower center of gravity, he quickly tried to cut to Aaron's right, but before he could even do it, he was cut off by Aaron, who used his long limbs to prevent him from advancing in that direction.
So, making a sharp change, he switched directions, followed instantly by Aaron, who didn't even let him breathe. "He's like glue," the point guard couldn't help but think as he kept trying to find any space or opportunity to make a pass. To his consternation, Aaron didn't give him enough time for that.
"It's over," Aaron said suddenly, making the opposing player furrow his brow, not understanding what he meant by that. "Look where you are," he said again so the player would look more closely and realize he was cornered near the corner of the court.
"Tscht," the point guard clicked his tongue in annoyance while desperately searching for some way to score or pass the ball quickly, as his gaze fell on the shot clock above the hoop.
Seeing that there was little time left and decided to try to score to reduce his team's disadvantage, he immediately attempted a penetration with all his strength, finally managing to get past Aaron. Then, with a confident smile, he jumped, ready to dunk against the hoop.
But his smile vanished the moment he saw a shadow looming over him—larger—and felt the ball in his hand slammed against the backboard before going out of bounds.
Silence was the only thing that could be observed in the gym at that moment, broken only by the murmurs from both stands at such a play.
"Did you see that?" a boy in an All Hallows blue jersey commented to the boy next to him. "I'm seeing it and I don't believe it," was the only response he got to such a block by the Royals' number 15.
"Who is that kid?" someone in the crowd couldn't help but ask, not being clear on who the boy was. "No idea," one replied, until the voice of the crowd dressed in red shirts gave them the answer.
"Let's go Aaron!!" a boy shouted among the crowd of red shirts, followed by the crowd's chant: "Aaron, Aaron, Aaron!" They chanted the name with adrenaline at its peak after such a block.
As soon as his feet planted on the ground, Aaron quickly headed toward the ball to pick it up and restart the game.
"Over here, rookie!" Maurice shouted, stretching out his hand, being quickly marked by an opposing player, making any pass to him risk being intercepted—something Aaron wouldn't take a risk on.
Scanning the whole court, he detected a gap where he could pass the ball without any problem. "Omar!" he shouted quickly to catch the shooting guard's attention, making him see how the ball was rapidly heading in his direction.
Without wasting a second, Omar ran quickly to catch the ball, dodged the player behind him, and ran directly toward the opposing team's hoop without any complications.
Once near the hoop, the pressure on him intensified as he saw himself surrounded by the Gaels' players, so he quickly decided to pass the ball to the first player in a red jersey who caught his eye, which turned out to be Dominykas. Holding the ball under the post, he was interfered with by the opposing team's center, and they began to struggle under the post.
"Move," Dominykas grunted, trying with all his strength to move the boy next to him, who only released a grunt in response while trying by all means to prevent Dominykas from turning and scoring.
"Here!" "Pass it to me!" Two voices were heard on the court, asking for the ball at the same time in two completely different situations. Aaron was in the left corner relatively uncovered.
Debating mentally what to do, Dominykas made a quick decision and passed the ball to the person he believed was the best option to score.
Once he had the ball in his hands, before the player marking him could even react, he saw him jump and rise again. Without wasting time, he jumped to interfere with the shot, but to his horror, he saw how in mid-air he leaned back, letting the ball leave his domain and throwing it in a classic fadeaway.
"Swish." The unique sound of the ball passing cleanly through the net was followed by the Royals' exclamation after the team scored again.
21-15, current score, Royals up by six.
Once he saw the shot go in, Aaron immediately ran with a smile on his face, starting to celebrate with Omar, who approached him quickly.
"Man, that was incredible," he said, shaking him by the shoulders while Aaron also laughed.
"Concentrate, this isn't over yet," Aaron said, finishing the celebration as he saw Maurice approach Dominykas and start talking to him in a low voice.
"Do you think he'll be okay?" Aaron asked, seeing how Dominykas lowered his head and clenched his fists.
"Dom? Don't worry about him. Maurice isn't idiot enough to pick a fight with someone who is half a head taller and weighs much more than him," he said, waving his hand and dismissing the matter.
While both returned to their positions ready for the restart, Aaron couldn't help but have his gaze rest briefly on Maurice, knowing it was a problem he would eventually have to face.
Authors thought's
What did you think of today's chapter?
How do you like the game writing so far?
Don't forget to subscribe to my Patreon to get more than 5 chapters in advance! https://www.patreon.com/c/merchant17