“How about we put Ryan in the backcourt?” Lucas said. “Let him bring the ball up. Make Len match up with him instead of trying to have Sharif and Neil match up with Len.”

Gramps nodded.

“Maybe I should have thought of that myself.”

“You did,” Lucas said.

“Think it will work?”

“All we’ve got to lose is the game,” Lucas said.

The ref blew his whistle.

“That’s a lot to lose,” Gramps said.

“I know,” Lucas said.

“Go make it happen.”

“I’ll try,” Lucas said.

“Everybody tries,” Gramps said.

Ryan took the ball from the ref, ready to inbound it to Lucas. Only Lucas took the ball, and quickly whispered the plan to his best friend.

“Trust me,” Lucas said.

“Always,” Ryan said.

“Let’s win the game,” Lucas said.

They didn’t run pick-and-rolls now. Instead the Wolves spread the court, giving Ryan plenty of room to operate. He wasn’t waiting for Lucas to throw him the ball now. He had the ball. First time down, he blew past the kid who had been guarding him, Juanell Robinson, for an easy layup. The Owls lead was ten. Gary missed an open shot. This time, as Ryan was bringing the ball up, Len switched over to guard him. Lucas took a step out on the wing, as if coming to the ball, but then stopped and broke for the basket. Ryan hit him with a pass. Lucas got a layup.

Now the lead was eight.

It hadn’t even taken a minute. But the Owls looked rattled now. Sometimes it didn’t take much. Ryan pressured Len as he brought the ball up, swallowing him up with all his length. Len got rid of the ball too quickly and Lucas was sitting on the crosscourt pass Len tried to throw to Gary. He picked it off cleanly, streaked down the court alone, laid the ball in.

Now it was 38–32, Owls.

Len missed now, forcing a shot. Billy got the rebound, snapped off an outlet pass to Ryan, who took the ball to the middle and led the fast break. Lucas was to his left. When Len came up on Ryan, trying to force him to pass, Ryan did pass, to Lucas, streaking again for the basket. He caught the pass in stride, confidently put the ball on the floor with his left hand—all the extra work he’d done with his left hand paying off—laid the ball off the backboard with his left hand, getting fouled by Gary in the process.

He went to the line. It wasn’t late in a game. It wasn’t the last minute. But he felt as if this was the first big free throw of the season for him, a chance to make it a one-possession game if the Wolves could get another stop and make a three-pointer.