Page 61 of A Shot at Love
I reach in, and I don’t even know what I’m going for, the intentional foul or the steal. It doesn’t matter because my fingers graze the ball. Sabrina’s grasp on it loosens just a touch, her dribble unsteady, and I see my chance. Praying I don’t foul, I lunge for the ball, and I time it perfectly. The ball bounces right into my hands, without me even touching Sabrina.
I’m out in the free court, running towards our basket. The time must be close to expiring. Every step feels heavy; I’m slow.
Through the buzzing in my ears, I swear I hear, “RUN!” From Jadea, of course. The crowd is screaming. There’s a flash of Daniel saying to me in the locker room, “Lightning in a bottle.”
Sabrina is only a step behind me. She’s trying to run around me, to block my path cleanly. She wants me to shoot free throws, to not even get close to the basket. Islam into her, pain blossoming above my eyebrow. I just manage to toss the ball up.
We crash down together, huddled under the basket, a tangle of limbs. I watch my ill-timed shot hit high on the glass and rattle the front rim. Bounce to the back.
And then, swish right through. The clock buzzer roars.
0:00 seconds left.
The crowd is shouting, and there are whistles from the officials. Foul on Sabrina; she didn’t get set enough for a charge. She threw herself in front of me, thinking the shot would never go in. But it did.
I can’t believe it.
112–112. Tie game.
As Jadea helps me up, I notice she doesn’t look as happy as I expect. That’s when I notice my face is wet, and for once, it’s not tears. Blood, blood everywhere. Sabrina’s desperate attempt split the wound back open. I hurry over to the free throw line, before the blood gets out of control. I’m surprised they haven’t dragged me to the sideline already.
The ball feels perfect in my hands, despite my sticky face and sweat-soaked uniform. A very small part of me wishes it was Jadea up here, Jadea shooting the game-winning shot, Jadea taking the risk.
Then—she grins at me from across the lane. I look over at the sideline, and there’s Daniel, his competition face on. He looks aglow with victory, as though I’ve already won it. I glance up, and there are the moms,throwing their pom-poms and worriedly gesturing to my face.
I turn to the basket. Dribble. Dribble. Breathe.
It rattles, but it makes it. I make it.
113–112.
The explosion of love from the crowd is the best sound I’ve ever heard. My girls run over, jumping on me and screaming. I’m crying now too, tears mixing with the blood. Jadea whips off her jersey, presses it to my cut, proudly showing off her six-pack abs and sports bra.
“We did it.” I’m bawling and smiling at Jadea. “After everything.”
Jadea bares her teeth. “On to the next.”
It’s a stark reminder that this journey isn’t over. This was the first obstacle of many, and yet it feels important. It feels like I’m so close to being who I want to be. Sometimes a sidekick, sometimes a hero. That’s life.
When Holly Rowe sticks the microphone out to me, I’m crying and holding Jadea’s crumpled jersey to my forehead.
“That was incredible, Annie. How does it feel?” Holly gushes, and she seems genuinely excited to hear what I have to say.
I’m still not one for speeches, but I manage to gasp out, “This wouldn’t have been possible without all the incredible women in the league. Sabrina Ionescu challenging me. My teammates supporting me. Jadea boosting me up. My mom growing with me. And Daniel for loving me. I’m lucky. So lucky.”
The words are a broken mess, but Holly seems to understand. “And what about the scandal? You’ve finally opened up about it recently. Is there anything you’d like to add?”
I laugh a little. “Honestly, now isn’t the time. This is for St. Louis. For our fans!” The crowd cheers. “I want to put the scandal behind me, but before I can, I have one last thing to say. WatchOur World Through Sportsthis Sunday. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”
Afterwards, I turn and run into Daniel’s arms. I’m clutching his—actuallymy—jersey, and laughing into his neck as he swings me around and then worriedly cups my face. “You okay?” He lifts Jadea’s wadded jersey up a bit, glancing at the cut. “It’s definitely a bleeder. But it shouldn’t need more than a few stitches.”
He sounds relieved. I laugh again, giddy. “I can’t even feel it.” Too much adrenaline, too much joy.
Sabrina comes over, trying not to interrupt. She looks her usual fierce, MVP self, but also a bit nervous. It takes me a minute to remember that she accidentally caused my bleeder.
Before she can say anything, I blurt out, “That was the best game ever, don’t you think?”
It’s a ridiculous thing to say, because she lost. Her team lost. I try to backtrack and feel Daniel stifling a laugh behind me, but I’m surprised to see Sabrina crack a small smile. “Sorry about the elbow, Larger. I promise it wasn’t intentional.”
