Game

  At the end of the first quarter it was Baldwin 18 and Bryant 15. Boogie had six points, and I had four. It was only a three-point lead, but I was feeling all right.

  “You’re playing good,” House said to the team. “Keep the pressure on. You’re switching well. Keep the pressure on.”

  Bryant decided to up the pressure, too, and came out with a full-court press. We didn’t dig the press soon enough, and when Boogie stopped me, Ernie wasn’t looking and everybody else was downcourt. When Ruffy saw I was tied up, he came out and I tried a jump pass, but Boogie knocked it away to their other guard. He scooped it up and broke to the basket ahead of Ernie. I cut him off at the foul line, but he hit Boogie with a bounce pass for the deuce.

  A press is good if you can stop the ball most of the time. Bryant couldn’t. Sky and Tomas helped out bringing the ball down, and their men couldn’t stay with them as they got passes just inside the half-court line and dished off to either me or Ernie crisscrossing through the backcourt.

  Tomas’s man was big and was hacking him to death, but the ref wasn’t calling it. I kept thinking about how Tomas was playing and kept telling myself to worry about what I was doing. I got the ball in to Tomas low twice, and the first time he threw up a ball that bounced off the rim, only he got his own bound and pushed it up again—it looked goofy but it went in. The second time I threw it in to Tomas on a low roll, his man bumped him and we got the foul call.

  What that did was get Boogie’s attention to their inside game. He was running the team from the floor. He started pushing his defense deeper into the paint, but that opened up the outside. I hit a three-pointer from the side. We threw up a surprise full-court press, but Ruffy blew his coverage and left their center wide open under their basket. Their two guard got excited and threw the ball all the way downcourt, over their center’s head and out-of-bounds.

  “That’s the way I planned it,” Ruffy said.

  I looked over to where House was standing with his hands on his hips wondering what was going on.

  A few minutes later, when Sky was on the foul line, House put Colin in for me. Boogie switched to Ernie on defense, and the game suddenly got sloppy. Colin tried to put a move on his man and walked. They brought the ball down and their man stepped on the sideline.

  Colin was trying to get into the game but couldn’t pick up the rhythm. Ruffy threw up a hook that bounced off the rim. Sky grabbed the bound, almost got tied up in the paint, and then dribbled out. He handed the ball off to Colin, who went straight up for the jumper. Sky’s man switched, went up, and caught Colin’s shot in the air. It was a sweet move. They got the ball downcourt in a hurry and made an easy deuce.

  House put me back in, and I brought the ball down against Boogie. Boogie kept putting his hand on my waist and was squeezing hard, but it didn’t look like he was doing anything. The referee started a close-guarding count on me, and Ernie’s man came over to double-team me—a mistake—and I hit Ernie at the top of the key. He buried the trey and they called time-out. I saw their coach yelling at the two guard. The game started again, and we exchanged turnovers. Then Ruffy went to the line when he was fouled on a shot at the buzzer. He made the two shots, and I saw we had outscored Bryant 17–12 in the quarter to bring the halftime score to 35–27.

  Everybody in the locker room was saying the same thing—that the game wasn’t over and we had to stay focused. We were looking good and feeling good. House said that we could take the game away from them in the first few minutes of the second half.

  “They have to find their fire,” he said. “If they want to win, they have to come out and show it right away. If we come out the way we can, playing solid, aggressive ball, it’s our game.”

  Mr. Barker came to the locker room and said he was proud of us.

  I got some alone time and thought about the situation. If we got into the regionals, showed the world what we could do against top competition, I had a chance to cop all my dreams. Sixteen minutes to go and I was pushing onto some heavy reality.

  We hit the floor for the second half and I looked around the gym. Jocelyn was there, waving and holding up my number on a large piece of oak tag. Pop was sitting next to her, which surprised me. He pointed at me with both index fingers and grinned.

  A tall white woman stopped me on the sideline and asked my name. She was carrying a pad on a clipboard.

  “Lawson,” I said. “Andrew Lawson.”

  She looked me up and down as if she was thinking about buying me. “Six-five,” she announced, and wrote something down on her pad.

  We ran some layups, and House told us not to forget to hustle. We were about to go onto the floor when Fletch asked what the lady had said to me.

  “Nothing, really,” I said. “She just told me I was six-five, as if I didn’t know it, and wrote something down.”

  “She’s a freelance college scout,” Fletch said. “She goes around and makes reports and sells them to the colleges. Don’t worry about who’s watching you. Just keep your head in the game.”

  Bryant brought in a new guard, and he was holding me while Boogie was holding Ernie. They were playing a box and one with the one on me, which I didn’t understand because our team scoring was spread pretty good over all the starters. Then I found out they were really using a box and beat down. The sucker was hitting me every time I moved.

  One time I picked up a loose ball from under their basket and flew downcourt on a two-on-one with Sky. I came down on the beater, did a semispin move in the lane, and fed Sky a soft alley-oop. I put the ball up, then watched Sky fly through the air and slam it down with one hand just as I felt an elbow hit my ribs. I doubled over in pain, but I didn’t get a call.

  What I did get was pissed. I looked at the referee and he looked back, daring me to open my mouth. I cooled off and smiled.

  The next time I got the ball, I hit a three from the corner; then, when Ruffy slapped a pass away, I got the ball, did a give-and-go with Needham, who had just come in the game, and hit a reverse layup a half step in front of Boogie. They called time out and we sat. The cold water and lemon felt good going down.

  Both teams were playing team ball, giving everybody on both squads a touch, but we were doing it better. The game was exciting, and at the end of the third quarter the count was 54–41.

  We scored the first six points of the fourth quarter to go up 60–41. They called another time-out, and I saw some of the kids from Bryant headed for the doors. That made me feel good.

  After the time-out, Boogie brought the ball down. He spread the team out to go one-on-one with me. I was ready for him. He came in hard to my left side and put a spin move back to the center of the court, then a shoulder fake that got me flat on my feet as he went up for a short jumper. The ball didn’t touch anything but net. I looked at Boogie to see if he was smiling. He wasn’t.

  We got the ball, moved up the floor, and got it inside, but Bryant took the ball from Tomas under our hoop. He was fouled but the refs didn’t call it. Bryant came down and Boogie buried a three. On our possession we got the ball in to Ruffy, and their center blocked his little jump hook. Boogie grabbed the ball and Ernie chased him, but it didn’t do any good. We turned it over on the inbounds play and they scored another deuce and got the foul shot.

  Boogie was all over me. He was taking me out of the game, and I felt like crap when Sky turned the ball over on a hesitation walk and their center threw up a shot from the paint that rolled in.

  We had started the half comfortable and soon we were looking at the clock, wondering why the quarter was taking so long. They were down by seven. Then they were down by four with a minute and three seconds left. House called a time-out.

  “Just hold on to the freaking ball!” he said. “It’s a two-possession lead. You hold on to the ball for twenty seconds and they’ll have to start fouling.”

  I passed the ball in to Ernie, who took it across the midcourt line.

  Ernie normally loves to handle the ball, but he saw that Sky was o
pen along the baseline and tried to hit him with it. Their whole team saw the pass coming and fought each other to snatch it. They were downcourt in a heartbeat, with Boogie blowing the short jumper but their center putting it back in over Ruffy.

  There were thirty-one seconds to go. Ernie picked the ball up to inbound it. He looked for me, saw Boogie coming over, and started to pass the ball to Sky just as he turned away, thinking the ball was coming to me. Ernie held on to the ball but stepped inbounds for a violation and they had the ball back with the same thirty-one seconds.

  We tightened our defense, and Boogie had to run out past the top of the key to get the inbounds pass. The moment he touched the ball, he had it on the floor and was driving to his right, running me into a pick set by Sky’s man. Sky switched off nicely and went after Boogie. Boogie went up and held the ball until Sky passed him, then threw it softly against the backboard. Meanwhile Ruffy came over and laid a big forearm on Boogie.

  The ball rolled in for the deuce and the ref blew the whistle. The score was tied and Boogie was on the line.

  There was a commotion near the door, and I looked and saw that all the Bryant people were coming back. When Boogie sank the free throw, the place went crazy. Bryant was up by a point. I looked up at the clock. There were twenty-six seconds left. House called a time-out.

  “We need two! We need two!” he called as we got over to the bench. He was dripping sweat. “Drew brings the ball up quick. When Drew gets to the three-point line, Ruffy comes out to the middle of the lane and Sky comes out to the foul line. Drew, you make a move left and then try to run somebody into a pick. If the pick doesn’t work, then Sky, you break out for the short jumper and Tomas and Ruffy get in position for the rebound. Ernie, if we miss and they get the rebound, you foul right away. Got it? Everybody knows what they’re supposed to do? It’s the three play with Ernie laying back. Everybody got that?”

  When we got back on the court, Boogie was in but they had switched the other guard to this tall skinny dude I had seen down at the projects. He was thin but he could leap. Ernie inbounded to me, and Boogie and the tall guy came after me. I passed the ball back to Ernie, and the tall guy went after him while Boogie stayed on my case.

  We got the ball downcourt and nobody moved into the right position. Tomas was standing on the right side with his mouth open and Sky had drifted out to the side of the foul line. Ernie saw the play wasn’t going to work so he threw the ball in to Ruffy, who shuffled his feet—he could have been called for walking—and then passed out to one side to Sky. Sky dribbled toward me, and Boogie faked as if he was going to double-team him and he passed the ball high to me. Boogie just missed picking it off. I didn’t know what the time was but I knew it was going to be close. Boogie had his arms up and I tried a stutter step left, then a full step, and then made a big move as close to his body as I could. I got the half step I wanted and saw their center coming. I went up as hard as I could and all I saw was Boogie’s uniform rising with me and Tomas getting some separation behind him. I pumped the ball, and Boogie was reaching for it when I brought it down and behind my back. I could feel Boogie’s body against mine, twisting in midair to stop the ball.

  Boogie’s hand came across my wrist as their center brought two huge hands toward my face. I felt myself falling backward, but I could see, through a forest of arms and hands and frantic fingers, Tomas higher than I had ever seen him and the ball ripping through the net. Ernie had dropped to his knees at the foul line and was screaming. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but the joy in his face told me everything. We had won!

  Tomas had made the basket; the final score was 70–69.

  House was slapping Tomas on the back. I got up off the floor and tried to get my breathing back to normal again as I walked toward the bench.

  Needham ran over and gave me a high five, and so did Abdul.

  “You’re a player, Lawson!” a voice next to me said. I looked down, and a short, round guy with curly hair was looking up at me. “You still living in Harlem?”

  “I know you?” I asked the guy.

  “You will,” he said, and walked away.

  Boogie came over and put his arm around me. “Sweet game, man,” he said. “Sweet game.”

  It was, too.

  Everybody plays everybody. Six games in all. If there are only four teams, it means there are six possible wins,” Jocelyn said. She was scribbling like crazy on a long yellow pad. “Three teams can win 2 and lose 1. Or two teams can win 2 and lose 1 and two teams can lose 2 and win 1. However, if one team wins 3 games, it’s all over because no other team can win more than 2 games. You want to see the math?”

  “No.”

  There were supposed to be five teams in the regionals, but Trinity dropped out at the last minute, leaving Our Lady of Mercy, Roosevelt Academy, Lane, and us. The whole school was going ape, and even dudes who didn’t play ball at all were walking around talking about the game.

  At practice in the afternoon the guys on the team were told that we would each get four tickets to every game, but we could get more if we wanted them. Sky said he needed at least ten for all his women. Abdul said that Sky could have his tickets because his family didn’t know a thing about basketball.

  House was trying to act cool, but he wasn’t. Only the top team was going on from the regionals to the state finals in Albany, and I knew he was already thinking about it. I was, too. The longer we played, the better chance I would have at getting a dynamite scholarship.

  I was looking for a Division I school because that was the way to the pros. You didn’t see guys from Division II schools being drafted.

  “You could be drafted from a Division II if the right scout or coach saw you play.” Fletch and I were sitting on the sidelines watching the team play horse after the workout. “They want more size from a Division II player, though.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they figure if you’re playing with a Division I school and you had any playing time, your stats will tell them if you can play or not. Stats don’t mean as much in Division II ball.”

  “They looking for white ballplayers?” I asked, watching Tomas dribble across the foul line, stop short, and throw up a jumper that bounced off the rim.

  “If it’s a predominantly white school, they are,” Fletch said. “If you were scouting for Duke or North Carolina or Kentucky, wouldn’t you be looking for white ballplayers?”

  “You think that’s right?”

  “You didn’t answer my question.” Fletch sniffed twice, then took his handkerchief out of his pocket and blew his nose. “So would you be looking for white players?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Hey, you’re finally learning the game,” Fletch said. “Next week I’ll teach you how to dribble.”

  House had us working on defense.

  “I want you to stop the ball as soon as you can,” he said. “We don’t want to let a man walk the ball upcourt, walk across the midcourt line, and set up plays as if he was playing a half-court game.”

  The way House wanted us playing it was that both guards worked at stopping the ball and then getting back into a loose zone. Ernie and I were the best at doing it, and we felt good with it.

  On the way out of the gym after practice I saw a bald-headed black man and a young white man talking to Tomas. I figured they were scouts. Maybe they weren’t, but I was checking out everything and letting my mind run wild.

  I could understand them looking for white ballplayers. I saw on television that some entire college teams, even the benchwarmers, were black.

  When I got home, I was really up. Pops was going through the newspaper and talking about buying a used car. I asked him if he was going to come out to Nassau Coliseum to see any of the games.

  “Yeah, I can see me out at the Coliseum,” he said. “Maybe you guys can warm up with a pro team.”

  I didn’t think that was going to happen, but I still let myself dream about some pro scouts digging my game.

  So i
t’s Saturday and we’re in the deeply righteous locker room at the Coliseum and House is explaining everything to us. “We win all our games, we move to the next level,” House said. “It’s as simple as that.”

  We had a game in the morning and a game in the afternoon. Then a game on Sunday either in the morning or afternoon, depending on what the other teams were doing.

  Our first game was against Our Lady of Mercy.

  Our Lady of Mercy was a big Catholic school on the northern edge of the Bronx. They must have had money’s mama, because they came in really fine blue-and-gray buses. We came in the yellow city school bus. When we got on the floor to warm up, we saw they had dynamite satin sweats. They had a bunch of white cheerleaders from a girls’ school, and they were looking generally correct.

  The game ball felt a little hard, but it bounced okay. It also had slightly raised sections so you could feel where the lines were.

  There were a quadrillion people in the stands and guys selling hot dogs and sodas. They had huge televisions above us, and every once in a while I could see myself as we warmed up. It was awesome.

  When the game started, it felt funny. We were playing okay and so were they, but somehow it didn’t seem real. It was almost as if we were just going through the motions. House and Fletch saw it, too, and started yelling at us.

  “You just come out here for the ride?” House asked. We were sitting on the bench during a time-out. “Because I don’t think you came to play.”

  I didn’t know if it was where we were playing or what. I knew the place was huge, and it made me feel smaller. It was as if the size of the place were taking away my strength. Ruffy wasn’t doing much at center and nobody was picking up the slack. There wasn’t any excitement in the game, no fire. After the time-out I could feel the team hustling more, but at halftime we were down by five, 39–34.

  The second half started with them hitting two treys in a row. One was by my man and House yanked me. I thought he was getting frustrated. Ricky and Ernie were in the backcourt. From the sideline I could see what was shaking. They were snatching the boards big-time over Tomas and Sky. Ruffy got a few boards, but he wasn’t getting enough to get us back into the game. Tomas was doing okay on offense, and I saw that his game looked tighter than I thought it had been.