Читать книгу Quicks - Kevin Waltman - Страница 16

9.

Here’s the thing you learn about hoops—you have to keep plugging. As a freshman and sophomore, you think the whole season hinges on every game, on every play at every practice. Now I know there’s always another game coming. Always one more play to make. The next shot’s always the most important one.

So we scrape along. Gibson eats some of my minutes. Murphy tries playing us together at times, which just means Gibson freezes me out and Reynolds sulks at losing his spot. Xavier alternates between being a young beast and looking like he’s never played organized ball before. But we win. We knock off White Station by getting some late stops. We come home for a win over a tough Cathedral squad. Then we follow it up with a smooth win over a struggling Michigan City team.

At 5-0, we should be feeling good. And some guys are. Xavier struts around the halls at school like he’s the second coming of DeMarcus Cousins. And Gibson acts like he’s the sole reason we’re undefeated. But when we were in Memphis, I saw what true excellence looks like—Evansville Harrison. Man, those guys had it humming. They won by sixteen over the best team in Tennessee. Cruised to it. They’re sitting at 7-0, and nobody’s come within single digits. And their point, Dexter Kernantz, has taken it to another level. If Gibson thinks he’s got quicks, he should take a look at Kernantz. The kid is dropping nine dimes a game. And he’s become a true stopper on the defensive end.

Every day at practice I try to tell guys this. “We’ve got to get better if we want to compete for the whole thing,” I say. But Xavier just smiles and shakes his head. Gibson smirks at me like I’m the one holding us back. Even Murphy’s riding too high. He keeps calling us his “undefeateds,” pumping up egos even more.

Maybe Coach Bolden rubbed off on me too much. Maybe I’ve come to think if a team’s having too good of a time then they’re doomed for disappointment.

And then, with a few minutes left in a Wednesday night practice, my man walks through the doors. Not Bolden. But my old teammate Moose Green, Xavier’s older brother. He pushes open double doors at the end of the gym and just stands there, waiting for everyone to notice him. It doesn’t take long. Kid breaks into a big smile and shouts, “There he is! The legend!”