“Always!” Ryan said. “You don’t even want to stop playing when it’s dark out.”

There was still a lot of sun when they got outside, even though it would be December soon. But the day had gotten a lot colder since they’d left Gus’s, so they did some running around before they started, just to get themselves as warm as possible.

Lucas let Ryan shoot first. He used to just stand outside and fire away, because his outside shot really was more pure than Lucas’s. Just not anymore. Lucas hadn’t only been working on his outside shot at practice, and with Gramps at the park, he’d been doing it on his own driveway basket. He knew that the more dangerous he became with his outside shot, the more dangerous he became as a point guard. If the guy guarding him was afraid to give him space, it made it easier for Lucas to drive past him and create a shot for himself or one of his teammates.

Ryan got ahead early. Lucas came back with a couple left-handed floaters, which he knew always annoyed Ryan, because being better with his left hand, his off hand, was about the only edge he had out here.

But when they were finally tied at H-O-R-S, it was Lucas who stepped back all the way to Ryan’s mailbox, and buried two straight shots. Ryan matched the first, but not the second. Because it was game point, he got one last chance.

He missed again.

Ryan said, “I don’t like to make excuses when I occasionally do lose to you.”

“That would be so unlike you,” Lucas said.

“But I think my shooting arm was tired after I made that absolute bomb at the end against the Bulls,” Ryan said.

“Well, now you can rest it,” Lucas said, “because of those two absolute bombs I just made.”

By the time Lucas walked up the street from Ryan’s house to his own, Gramps was waiting for him. It meant he was waiting to talk about the game they’d won. If practice was his favorite thing about coaching, breaking down a game after it had been played was his next favorite.

Then came actually coaching the game.

Lucas pointed that out to him while they ate turkey meatloaf and mashed potatoes and green beans.

“That press changed everything today,” Lucas said.

“Even I picked up on that,” Julia said. “The poor boys on the other team looked as if they’d been attacked by a swarm of bees.”

Gramps smiled. “Well, maybe that decision did tilt the game slightly toward us at that point,” he said.

“You think?” his grandson said.