Page 72 of The Transfer
Before I know it, my feet are moving, and my mouth is opening.
“Yeah, we’ll see,” I say it with a tone that hopefully makes him realize he is not wanted here.
“Hart. Good to see you. I hear you aren’t entering the NBA draft. Probably smart considering… Enjoy the next few games, you never know which one might be your last.” He’s baiting me, but I’m not taking it. Not from him.
“I have plenty of games left. Natty isn’t until April.” My teammates have my back, hollering and cheering at that.
“Right. I do believe Durham is going for a back-to-back this year, and it’s been how many years since CTU brought one home?” He laughs, turning on his heels to walk out the door. Before he does, he hugs Reagan, which she quickly gets out of, looking uncomfortable at best. Then he’s gone.
“I hate that guy,” Williams says. We all burst out laughing as his statement defuses all the tension in the room.
I take a chance to look over at Reagan, but she’s already walking off toward Coach, not sparing me or anyone else a glance.
It’s now Sunday afternoon,and we have made it to the championship game of the conference tournament. In a shocking upset, Durham was beaten in the semi-finals, so we won’t be playing them again.Thank goodness. Drew is eating his words, and I’m so glad we don’t have to deal with him, unless we meet in the NCAA tournament.
The team we are currently in a dog fight with is the same team that beat us this season, giving us our only conference loss. We are extramotivated to vindicate that loss and get the conference title for the first time since Everett Mills played at CTU.
Speaking of the Mills, Jordan is struggling in this game. He has been constantly double-teamed and had to pass out of it most times. If it weren’t for free throws, he wouldn’t have any points. It’s messing with him a little, but the other guys have stepped up big time. Williams has been a beast on the boards, and Carter is on fire from the 3-point line. This other team, though, they can’t miss. It’s been tied or a 2–3-point lead for either team most of the game.
Thankfully, I seem to have found my rhythm again. Not practicing ten hours a day has given me more energy, and my focus is clearer. I don’t know what I was thinking, trying to push myself that hard. No, I know what it was. It was denial and a poor attempt at distraction from the grief of losing my dad and Reagan.
Coach Hart calls a time-out when ten minutes are left on the clock. Unlike most coaches, who overuse swearing and yelling, Jake Hart remains cool, calm, and collected. He loves us, and we play hard for him. He is more concerned with coaching us to be good men than winning games. It just so happens that he gets to have both a lot of the time.
“Alright, men. This is it. Dig deep and remember how it felt the last time we played this team. We are better than them. They know it, and we know it. Let’s go out and prove it!” That has us refocused, and I can see a fire has been lit in everyone’s eyes.
The rest of the game plays out how we’d hoped it would. Jordan finds separation and starts scoring baskets, freeing up other shots for the rest of the guys. We end up with a ten-point victory and the first conference championship for CTU in twenty years.
I see Jordan and Everett embrace, and it brings tears to my eyes to see them have a moment together. I miss my dad so much right now, and I wish I could share this with him.
Coach approaches me midcourt as I stand there, alone. He pulls me into a hug, and I let my tears flow.
“Thank you, Jake, for taking a chance on me this year and letting me be a part of this team. But more importantly, for being here for me these last few months.” I get the words out, barely.
Pulling back, Jake puts his hands on my shoulders. “Riggs, it has been an honor to coach you this year. You are an essential part of our team, and your leadership on and off the court has been admirable. As for the rest, I love you, nephew. I will always be here for you. If my brother were standing here, he would tell you how proud he is of you. I’m so incredibly proud, too.”
With one more hug, he walks off to find Aunt Lane, I’m sure.
I see my mom and run to her, picking her up and twirling her around. She laughs while swatting at me to put her down.
“Riggs Hart! You put me down this instant. For heaven’s sake, I am too old to be whirling around like that. Now give me a proper hug! I am so proud of you, my boy!”
I give her a hug that lasts longer than I can count, as she whispers how proud she is of me and that my dad is watching me play and rooting for me, too. We both shed a few tears, and it’s a moment I will look back on with fondness for the rest of my life.
When all the parents are off the court and the temporary stage is being constructed, I see Reagan out of the corner of my eye. We make eye contact briefly before she looks down at her feet, like they’re the most important thing in the world.
My legs move of their own volition and carry me to her. I’m just as surprised as she looks when we are close enough to touch.
“Hi, Sunshine.” The words I’ve said to her countless times come freely, but she looks surprised. Hopefully in a good way.
“Hi, Point Guard.” She hasn’t called me that in weeks, and a ghost of a smile plays at my lips when I hear those words.
I don’t say anything else, but this brave and beautiful girl does. “Youplayed an incredible game. Congratulations on the championship. I know your dad is proud of you right now. I’m proud of you, too.”
Then she reaches up on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek gently before walking off the court.
I don’t know what just happened, but it gives me hope that maybe, just maybe, I can really have it all.
KINGS OF THE COURT
