They went to inbound the ball and Jo-Jo jumped at the guy taking the ball out and the ball came in wild. I got it and hit a short jumper. Then their guy got jumpy and stepped into the court when he was taking the ball out, and the ref turned it over to us on the violation. We scored again, and they called time-out.

“Come on, we got to tighten up,” Paul was saying.

I looked over to the scorer’s table, and they were bringing their first five back in. I looked over to our bench, and I saw Cal standing behind some other dudes. Okay, he wanted to know what we were made of, he’d find out.

Stealer John brought the ball down, and I kept my hand on him the whole time. He passed the ball off but called for it right back. I was right on him. I didn’t let him breathe for a minute. Finally he backed himself into a spot where Paul could double-team him. I saw it and figured he’d move the ball away from Paul and I’d have a chance for it. Paul came over, and I saw his man start a cut towards the basket. Maybe Stealer John would have passed the ball to the cutting man or maybe he would have forced the shot up, but he never got the chance. I had the ball and started down the court. I couldn’t hear anybody after me, but I put the ball on the backboard anyway for another deuce.

They called another time-out.

“You gonna pay for that, sucker!” Stealer John pointed at me as he went to his bench. It made me feel good that he was mad.

The rest of the game went down like death in an old folks’ home. Not a smile, not a moment everybody’s mind wasn’t in it. They were playing ball like they were professionals or something. But we came back slow but steady. People watching got real quiet, and the game was being played by everybody just the way it was supposed to be. When we got six points away, the buzzer went off. We lost.

We got in the locker room, and I was so tired I couldn’t even sit down straight. Cal was handing out towels. He gave us some Gatorade and salt tablets, too.

A guy who had been hanging around the gym came in and started congratulating everybody.

“You got a nice team, coach,” he said, handing Cal a card. “You got some real classy ballplayers. You don’t mind if I tell them how good I thought they were?”

“I mind!” Cal looked at the guy like he had said something about Cal’s mama or something. Then he threw the guy’s card on the floor.

The guy shrugged and walked out.

Paul picked up the guy’s card and looked at it and then handed it to Ox.

“Hey, coach.” Ox was holding the guy’s card. “That cat was a scout!”