The game had entered halftime with both teams returning to their respective locker rooms along with their coaches, while on the other hand, the court began to be cleaned by the cleaning staff to remove the sweat that was on the hardwood and avoid slips and falls.
"Phew," Aaron transpired once he was inside the locker room, flopping onto a random bench, catching his breath along with the rest of his teammates who were in the same or worse shape than him.
"I'm dead, man," said Omar, throwing himself right next to where Aaron was sitting, without strength and with his mouth open, transpiring noisily.
At that, a twisted idea formed on Aaron's face while he stretched his arm in the direction of the cooler that was in the corner and grabbed one of the ice-cold water bottles that were inside without alerting Omar.
With the bottle in hand, Aaron slowly brought it close enough to place it on Omar's neck. "Ugh!" Omar shouted, jumping up suddenly at the aggressive change in temperature on his neck. "That's not cool, man," Omar said, glaring at Aaron, who was laughing along with the rest of the team at Omar's exaggerated reaction.
"At least now you're cooler, friend," Aaron said through laughter, passing the water bottle to Omar and grabbing another for himself.
As soon as the cold water passed through his throat, a refreshing sensation ran through his entire body, setting aside for a moment the physical exhaustion he was in in the middle of the basketball game.
In all this time, Aaron's statistics are as follows:
Aaron Reed (C)
Points: 18
Rebounds: 3
Blocks: 2
Assists: 4
Steals: 0
His block and rebound statistics had decreased compared to before because the coach had strictly forbidden him from physical confrontation in the game, fearful that his wrist sprain would worsen.
But even so, Aaron, thanks to his excellent vision and prediction, could foresee where the ball would bounce, taking possession of the ball before the rest of the players.
Where Aaron could have the advantage was in points, being almost equal to Jerry, who had 20.
The score so far being 35-37, with Aaron and Jerry being the main powerhouses of fire in their respective teams.
The game was practically a performance by both players scoring triples and shots from mid-court, with Aaron going 5/8 in field goals, meaning an efficiency of 63%, while on the other hand, Jerry was 6/10 because as soon as Aaron entered, he managed to interfere with Jerry's shooting form, causing his misses.
While the Royals players were resting and rehydrating as much as they could, the door opened again, letting in Coach Arbitello along with Archie and the team doctor, who wasted no time and immediately approached Aaron. "Wrist," the doctor said gruffly, making Aaron show it to him to let him examine it.
"It's only slightly inflamed but nothing serious," the doctor finished saying, to then open his bag and take out an anti-inflammatory spray and spray it over Aaron's wrist.
"Ahh," Aaron couldn't help but hiss at the burning the spray caused on his wrist. "If it burns, it's because it's taking effect," the doctor told him with a cordial smile on his face, while a laugh was heard from the side of both of them.
"What's so funny?" Aaron asked in Omar's direction, who wouldn't stop mocking his friend. "Nothing, nothing, I just love karma," Omar responded through laughter, seeing the glaring look he received from Aaron.
Some claps drew the attention of all the players, who immediately fixed their gaze on the person who was in the center of the locker room and began to speak once he realized he had everyone's attention. "Very well, boys, attention," Coach Arbitello said at that moment.
"First of all, congratulations to all of you for getting this far; we are at the doorstep of being tournament champions." Once he pronounced those words, he began to clap, being followed by all the players and people inside the locker room in a clear sign of celebration.
"However," he said now, removing the smile from his face and in a grave tone, making the players look at him with attention and expectant of his next words.
"This is also the most critical stage of the game," Coach Arbitello began. "We are only minutes away from grasping glory or losing it." Taking steps around the locker room, Coach Arbitello gave a significant look to each player he passed, with his hands behind his back like a drill sergeant addressing his recruits.
"So keep playing like you are doing; I want you to fight for every rebound, every point. I want us to go out there and destroy the Kangaroos!!" he shouted passionately, raising the competitive spirit of all his players, who had excited looks on their faces at those words.
Finishing with his speech, Coach Arbitello extended his hand toward the center, while the players, understanding what he wanted, little by little stood up and placed their hands over Coach Arbitello's.
"Royals on 3," Coach Arbitello told all his players while they moved their hands up and down.
"1, 2, 3, ROYALS!!!" each and every one of the people inside the locker room shouted, with their spirits through the clouds and unable to wait to go back out onto the court.
"Rest for the last remaining minutes," Archie said quickly, seeing that only 5 minutes of halftime remained before they had to return to the court.
"Friend, we're going to destroy them," Omar said, still excited after the coach's speech.
"You said it, friend," Aaron said, extending his fist for a fist bump, being quickly bumped by Omar's fist while both began to talk among themselves.
Kangaroos Locker Room
If the Royals' atmosphere was relaxed and without many worries, the atmosphere in the Kangaroos' locker room could be described with a single word: "Tense."
None of the players spoke among themselves or directed a gaze that wasn't hostile to each other, causing even the slightest sound to be heard clearly.
"Why didn't you block number 15 for me?" a question broke the silence in which the locker room had been plunged, directed toward a player who was sitting in the corner.
The question had been asked by Jerry toward Ralph Colon, who upon hearing the question made a grimace of disgust. "I'm doing my best," was Ralph's curt response, hoping that the matter would be settled there, something it seems Jerry was not willing to do.
"Your best," Jerry said ironically, repeating the words Ralph had said. "Well, that's not enough!!" he shouted immediately after, standing up and approaching Ralph.
"Your only job on the court is to prevent number 15 from stopping me from shooting, understand?" Jerry said slowly, getting closer and closer to Ralph, whose brow furrowed more and more upon hearing Jerry's words.
"Well, if you think defending that slippery guy is so easy, I want to see you try it," Ralph replied, also standing up, facing Jerry without any fear, who also furrowed his brow.
"That's your job!!" Jerry shouted at him. "If you don't block him and give me coverage, how do you expect me to take 3-point shots, huh?" he said now at that moment, poking Ralph's chest with his index finger, who with a slap brushed his hand away.
"Well, maybe if you shot faster you wouldn't have so many problems, don't you think?" Ralph responded, not letting himself be intimidated. "Because in case you haven't noticed, the other kid can shoot almost as well as you," Ralph said with venom, making the fury inside Jerry grow even more.
"What did you say to me?" Jerry roared furiously, slightly pushing Ralph, who didn't back down and also pushed Jerry, causing the conflict to escalate.
"Hey, stop it, both of you," said one of their teammates, who had already had enough of seeing both of them argue, and seeing that they were about to use their hands, decided to intervene along with the rest of his teammates who set about separating both of them.
"Let go of me, I'm fine," Jerry said, freeing himself from his two teammates while he returned to his seat and prepared to continue drinking from his bottle.
While the conflict seemed to have finally come to an end, the door that led to the locker room was swung open with a dull thud, the Kangaroos' coach being the person who had burst in at that moment.
"May I know what you were doing out there?" the coach roared furiously at his players. "We were coming from a masterful lead in the first quarter, getting a lead of more than 5 points on the Royals, and now?" the coach inquired, passing his gaze around the entire room, causing the players to lower their gaze, unwilling to make eye contact with him.
"In the second half, I need you to come out with more energy." The coach, seeing that the mood of his players was not right, decided to encourage them. "I want you to fight for every possession as if it were the last," the coach said more energetically.
Heading quickly toward the corner of the locker room, the coach grabbed the large whiteboard that was inside while he placed his players' positions and grabbed one of the markers to begin explaining the new strategy.
"We cannot continue like this," the coach began to say, knowing that continuing with that battle of "you shoot and I shoot" would become something that his team could not withstand for long, especially now that they had Jerry completely neutralized, preventing him from being able to shoot with complete comfort.
"First of all, we will limit the 3-point shots." That first phrase provoked an especially strong reaction from Jerry.
"I don't agree!!" he shouted immediately, standing up and interrupting what the coach was about to say. "If it weren't for the 3-point shots I made, we wouldn't have made it this far," Jerry said quickly, replying and opposing the coach's strategy.
At that simple phrase, the reactions of the players were not long in coming, throwing daggers with their eyes toward Jerry, who believed he was the reason they had reached the final, forgetting that they had done all the dirty work allowing him to shoot with peace of mind.
"White!!" the coach shouted with a grave voice, causing Jerry to subconsciously tense and shrink. "I think you forget that the coach is me and therefore the one who decides the strategy will be me," the coach said curtly, cutting off any claim from the mentioned player.
"As I was saying before I was interrupted," upon saying that phrase the coach gave a significant look to Jerry. "This time I want the ball to be passed more quickly, focusing more on ball control and mid-range shots," the coach explained, tracing his plan on the whiteboard.
"Hobbs, in this case, your duty will be crucial since you must focus inside the paint," he said while making a circle of the entire Royals team's paint and placing the magnet representing Ralph in the center of it.
"Understood, coach," Ralph said quickly, excited to have more offensive responsibilities and at the same time finally being freed from the tedious task of defending [for] Jerry.
"I don't need to tell you what we are playing for in the second half of the game, so go out and win!!" the coach roared the last part, while some knocks on the door indicated that halftime had come to an end and it was time for them to return to the court.
As soon as the Kangaroos players came out of their locker room, they saw the Royals players on the other side, calm and without worries, something that only fueled their desire to defeat them.
"And here we are back with the second half of the match that will decide the champion of the national division," Logan said through the microphone, provoking cheers from the public in response.
"Don't even say it, Logan; the match so far has been very close, with both teams unwilling to throw in the towel yet," Jerry said quickly, generating more expectation for the spectators.
At that moment, the referee blew his whistle again, giving start to the 3rd quarter of the match in which both teams were playing for the championship trophy and the glory it would entail.
Authors thought's
What did you think of today's chapter? Give me your opinions and thoughts.
Sorry for the delay! I've been busy with my university midterms and some complications at work, so I didn't have time to write. But things are back to normal now!
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