Full Court Press by Eric Walters

second shot. I stopped at center court, covering the man there.
    The shot went up, hit the rim, spun around and then bounced free. A player with a red jersey came up with the ball. He looked up court and reared back, getting ready to toss the ball. I took a quick look over my shoulder — the man I was covering had moved away and was free under our net. I rushed back, tr ying to look back for the pass I knew was coming. I leaped up just in time to grab the ball, pulling it in. I had it! I planted both feet and then started away, dribbling it back up court. Suddenly I was swarmed by three of their players, just as I reached the half.
    I looked between the three of them and caught a glimpse of one of our players alone under their net. I heaved the ball over the outstretched fingers of the charging trio and it landed right where I’d aimed — and prayed — it would go. I lost sight of the player, but saw the ball go up and into the net!
    Then I could see him. It was Roy, and he had a smile on his face. That was even rarer than our team scoring a basket. I thought Idetected a slight nod of his head as he passed by me.
    The other team quickly came up. The guard came straight up and without looking left or right launched a long three-point shot. It was an air ball which Marcus corralled. He started to dribble and I broke up the side, angling to the corner. I raised my hand to signal I was open. No sooner had that happened than the ball flew through the air and I grabbed it. I started to dribble, driving the net. Out of nowhere my clear lane vanished and two of their players blocked me out. I caught sight of one of our players breaking free on the other side. I bounced a pass to him just as one of their men collided with me, sending me tumbling to the floor.
    I heard a cheer go up and scrambled to my feet in time to see Marcus giving Roy a high five. I’d fed Roy another pass and he’d scored again! We were making a run!
    I started back up the court, but then spun around quickly as I expected the in-bounds pass to come in. It was going to a man just over from me and I lunged out and grabbed the ball just before it reached him. Without hesitation I drove back toward their basket. Itwould be an easy two points.
    And then I felt a hard shove to my back and tried to put up my hands to block the rapidly approaching wall and…
    * * *
    â€œNick can you hear me?”
    I felt my head spinning. Who was calling me?
    â€œNick… can you hear me?”
    It was Mr. Roberts. “Sure… yeah,” I muttered.
    â€œWonderful… great… and do you know where you are?”
    What sort of stupid question was that? Of course I knew where I… I looked around. Where was I? It looked like the little room beside the office… how did I get here? I remembered being in the gym and going up for a lay-up and then hitting the wall… and looking up and seeing one of their players standing over top of me — scowling.
    â€œDid I make it?” I asked.
    â€œMake what?” Mr. Roberts asked. He sounded really worried.
    â€œThe shot,” I mumbled. “Did I score?”
    â€œYes, you got it!” Kia exclaimed. “AndMarcus took the foul shot and we got the ball back and —”
    â€œBut the important thing is that you’re okay,” Mr. Roberts said, cutting her off.
    â€œDid we win?” I asked.
    â€œWe lost,” Kia said. “By a lot.”
    â€œThe only thing that’s important is that you’re fine. Your mother should be here soon,” Mr. Roberts said.
    â€œMy mother? Why is my mother coming?”
    â€œWe called her. We were very worried, and we want her to take you to see the doctor.”
    â€œWhy do I have to go and see a doctor?”
    â€œIt’s just a precaution. We need you to be checked out. You took a very nasty blow to the head.”
    â€œI’m fine,” I protested.
    â€œI’m sure you are,” Mr. Roberts