Page 60 of A Shot at Love
But she never misses.
The ball swishes through, and I swear the crowd is stomping their feet. 110–105 with 1:50 left in the game.
New York tries to push us around on offense, but we push back. I slow Sabrina at the top of the key, and she gives it away. Lynn jumps into the lane and steals the pass, running back down the court for an easy lay-up. The crowd loves the veteran presence, and Lynn raises her hands up, egging them on.
110–107.
1:34 left in the game.
New York isn’t a quitter and when they bring it back down, they run a multiple screen play under the basket. Our defense gets lost in the shuffle, and Jonquel Jones catches and shoots an easy two a few feet from the basket.
112–107.
1:17 left in the game.
Coach decides to put Taherah in with me, even though she’s typically my backup. It’s a wise choice, because her fresh legs and excellent form provide us with an easy three from the top of the key.
112–110.
0:50 left in the game.
Coach calls a timeout, and everything in me is buzzing. When I look at the beloved faces of my teammates, I know they feel the same way. This is our chance.
Our moment. We just have to take it.
Coach remains as grim-faced as usual. “Annie, you need to stay up on Ionescu, but if you foul her, you’re out. Be careful. Nothing sloppy, Arrows.”
I catch Coach Rembert’s eye. “We can do it, Coach. We can get you all the way to the Championship.” I don’t know why I say it, but Coach Rembert looks like she needs it. And I believe it, I really do.
The next two possessions, one for us and one for New York, are a bust. After a lot of passing, Allyson fumbles one, and it bounces out of bounds. New York goes back the other way but has a shot clock violation.
Still 112–110, New York with the lead.
0:19 seconds left.
We run a screen, trying to get Taherah open. She’s hot, and a three would be deadly to New York. Instead, she gets a bad look and the ball rebounds long off the rim. The able hands of Jonquel Jones grab it, passing it off to Sabrina.
My teammates and I race to get back on defense. We’re quick enough that Sabrina is forced to slow down, to hesitate at the top of the key. The clock is winding down. What should I do? If I foul her, she’ll shoot free throws, and we’ll really be dead in the water. But if I ease up, she might score anyway.
0:08 seconds left.
Thankfully, New York looks just as confused, and their coach, Sandy Brondello, calls a timeout.
Coach Rembert opens her mouth, but Jadea beats her to it. “Annie, you have to steal the ball.”
I rear back, surprised. “I haven’t stolen it off Ionescu all night.”
Jadea’s face is scary intense. “Don’t foul her, or you’ll foul out and she’ll make her free throws. You just need to steal the ball and go.”
Coach Rembert huffs. “Jadea, that’s a risky plan. We’ll intentionally foul Sabrina, and it makes sense for Annie to do it. There are only eight seconds left. We have to hope that Sabrina only makes one of her free throws and we’ll have a chance at a three-point shot.”
Coach is right. That’s the safe plan. But it also has a slim chance of success. We only have eight seconds left, and New York would happily whittle that away and win by two. They’ll know the intentional foul is coming. And Sabrina has been a flawless eight out of eight at the free throw line. She could waste five seconds and make both free throws, leaving us an impossible four points behind.
The whistle blows, and I stare at the eight seconds on the clock with growing dread. Safe or risky? What’s the right call?
Johannes stands on the sideline, preparing to throw in the ball. Ionescu is already looking at me suspiciously, ready to evade my intentional foul. Everything fades away as Johannes throws it in. Sabrina makes a sweeping arc, trying to run right into the pass and evade me on the way. She catches the ball, turning back to face the basket. I plant myself right in her way. She slows down, dribbling the ball back on her right hip.
The clock ticks and ticks behind me.
