by
Lesli
The air is freezing outside, but inside the gymnasium the air is warm, even hot, especially for the ten players running up and down the court. One objective: get that orange ball and put it through the hoop. It is the regional championships. One team, the Raiders, has been to this event four times in the last six years. The Eagles have never made it this far.
The fourteen- and fifteen-year-old boys run up and down the court, sweat dripping from their flushed faces. No one can keep the ball long enough to score. For now the score is tied,
Two groups of cheerleaders in sharp uniform cheer and yell for their team. Everyone, admires their hard-earned perfection, but everyone is absorbed in this one-time game.
Sitting on the bench with three other players is number Twenty-six. "Eagles" is printed in dark blue letters on the front of his jersey. He is, as far as looks are concerned, identical to the other players. Anyone who knows him, though, knows he is different. During the first two games of the season, so long ago, he played like lightning. The prize player of the regional group.
A car accident ended that. He walks with a painful limp. The coach told him he was gone for the season--probably for the rest of his highschool years. Twenty-six refuses to give up. He never misses a game--is always dressed in uniform, waiting for the coach to let him play again. The coach only shakes his head now.
Suddenly the monotonous game begins to warm up. A tall, broad young man from the Raiders steals the ball. He dribbles down court like a racehorse, breaking through the defense like it is only ten-year-old boys blocking him. The Raiders fans cheer. The Eagles fans groan in dismay. The boy jumps high and lets the ball fly. It slams into the backboard and into the hoop. The wooden bleachers shake as Raiders fans jump up and down. Two points click on the scoreboard.
The players begin again, the Raiders with new vigor, the Eagles with downcast hopes. Suddenly one player passes the ball. One of the Eagles jumps to catch it. Then the large boy who made the last point rams into the player. The boy hits the court with a loud thud. Cries go up from the croud.
The boy who fell painfully picks himself up. The referee explains that the Eagles get two fowl shots--their last link to the game.The boy stands at the fowl line. He lines up and shoots amid the distractions of the opposing team. The team watches as it sails straight and rings the goal. The cheers are short lived as he lines up for the last shot. He shoots. The ball hits the backboard and bounces off. No point. Players leap for the ball. One Eagles player rebounds it. Before he can shoot the buzzer sounds. The boys race for the dressing room and their water bottles. As the boys return with sopping heads from running them under the faucet, the boy who fell appeals to the coach.
"I can't keep it up, coach,"he pants."No way."
"Just sit down and cool off,"the coach replies. The coach surveys his last players.
Number Twenty-six speaks up,"Coach, give me a chance. Please, Coach!"
"Son, I just don't see that happening,"Coach replies."Jefferson, you're-" He begins speaking to another player.
"Coach,Please!" Twenty-six begs.
The coach looks at him and sighs."Alright. You want to play? Get out there."
Twenty-six stares in disbelief. Coach tosses him the ball."Take it out,"he commands.
Everyone silences as this veteran slowly limps to the edge of the court. He instinctivly finds his best pass and throws the ball. His teammate is ready; he catches the ball and heads to the opponents goal. Twenty-six awkwardly jogs after him. After a pass the ball is intercepted. As an opponent races downcourt, Twenty-six breaks into a perfect,even run. He pulls in, his hand shoots out and he owns the ball. He turns and races back to his goal. The crowd is utterly amazed. Even Raiders fans cheer as Twenty-six shoots a perfect shot.The game is over. The Eagles have won their first Championship. Twenty-six walks out of the dressing room in jeans and a sweatshirt with a bag at his side. He is limping. The coach walks up and puts an arm around his shoulder.
"I knew I could do it, Coach,"Twenty-six smiles."All I needed was a chance."
"I'll admit I'd have never believed it," Coach replies."How did you do it?'
"I don't know,Coach,"he answers."It just doesn't hurt when I run."
Twenty-six limps out of the building. The victory is his.
|
|
|
