Tonight at Westley Park the two of them had spent a fair amount of time working on the high pick-and-roll, which was so old school, Gramps joked he wasn’t even sure they had schools when teams started using the play. Lucas and Ryan had run it all last season, and Gramps said they were going to wear teams out running it again this season.

Gramps said the truth was that if you started your offense that way and ran it right, it didn’t matter whether the other team knew it was coming or not.

Gramps was playing the part of Ryan tonight. Over and over he’d limp up to the top of the key on his aching knees, wincing as he did. Those knees, Lucas knew, were the oldest things about his grandfather. Not his mind. Not his attitude. Not even his heart. Just the knees. He never begged off playing. He never complained about his knees, even though Lucas could see the pain on his face when he’d move around a lot like this.

As soon as Gramps called for the ball, Lucas tossed it to him.

“Switch!” Gramps yelled, passing the ball to Lucas as he moved to his right.

It meant the imaginary player guarding him was jumping out to guard Lucas.

Lucas didn’t hesitate as Gramps spun away from him and hobbled down the left side of the lane toward the basket. He lofted a pass over the smaller imaginary player who would have switched over to guard Gramps, hit Gramps perfectly in stride—if you could even call what his grandfather did striding—and Gramps put a left-handed layup off the backboard and gently through the net.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Sam Winston said.

“Did I get the pass away quickly enough?” Lucas asked.

Gramps hated it when you were late exploiting an opening the defense had presented to you. He who hesitates, Gramps liked to say, loses an easy bucket.

“Can’t even remember the ball touching your hands,” Gramps said.

Lucas ran and collected the ball so Gramps didn’t have to, dribbled back to the top of the key himself, giving his grandfather a low-five as he passed him.

“Let’s do it again,” Gramps said.

This time Gramps held the ball high over his head and told Lucas to make a sharp cut so close he could brush hips with Gramps on the way by. Lucas did that, streaking for the basket down the right side of the lane. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his grandfather turn, pivot to his right, and then hit Lucas with a perfect chest pass before Lucas laid the ball in.

“All night long,” Sam Winston said.

Fine with me, Lucas thought.