Long Shot - Mike Lupica [25]
Pedro faked the pass, like he always had in the past.
Ned took a step toward the basket.
As soon as he did, Pedro threw the ball where he knew Ned was going to be, because he had always been there in the past.
Only Ned stopped, like a car jamming on the brakes.
It was too late for Pedro to stop. He was fully committed by then, so he threw the ball over the defense, over everybody, out of bounds, feeling as if he’d thrown it all the way out of the gym.
Pedro looked over to the bench and saw Coach Cory shake his head. Then he looked at the clock right next to Coach at the scorers’ table and saw there were only twenty-five seconds left in the quarter.
So Pedro tried to set a new world’s record for hustling back on defense. As he did, he heard Sherrill’s coach call for one last shot.
Pedro had only one game plan then: Get up on his guy, get one stop, and get to the bench.
Sherrill worked the ball on the outside now until there were fifteen seconds left.
Then Pedro heard their coach yell, “Go!”
They had set up their own two-man game on the right side: Pedro’s guy and Ned’s guy, Dwan.
Pedro’s guy dribbled over to the wing. Pedro gave a quick look over his shoulder, saw that Dwan had stayed home for now. The Sonics had run this play a few times already. Dwan would make a move out of the corner as if coming out for a pick-and-roll. But then he’d plant and take off for the basket, like a classic back-door cut. If he wasn’t open for a layup, he’d come all the way around to the other side and somebody would pick for him over there, and he’d put up another one from the outside.
Plenty of time to do that now.
Pedro stayed focused on his guy, locked on him, ready to swarm him as soon as he gave up his dribble.
Only the kid kept his dribble, put the ball hard on the floor and started to drive, making it look as if he was going to try to blow past Pedro and get around the corner.
So Pedro thought, anyway.
He thought wrong.
This time they were running a pick-and-roll, Dwan coming at full speed out of the corner like a runaway truck. At least that’s the way Joe would describe the play for Pedro much later.
Pedro ran into Dwan’s pick, got blindsided, as if he’d run into the side of a house. No one had called it out in time to warn him. It was always the responsibility of whoever’s guy was setting the pick to warn his teammate. Ned had been on Dwan the whole game. He had to have seen it coming. Ned saw everything coming on the basketball court.
But Pedro saw none of this until it was too late, running hard in Dwan and getting absolutely smoked, his head hitting the floor as the buzzer sounded to end the quarter.
And, for Pedro, ending the game.
THIRTEEN
“I get it now,” Joe said.
Pedro took the ice pack away from his head. “What was your first clue?” Pedro said. “When I went down like a bowling pin?”
They were in the basement at Pedro’s house, Joe sitting on the floor playing video games, Pedro lying on the couch watching him.
Pedro put the ice pack back on his forehead.
“I’m just saying that I see what Ned’s been doing, is all,” Joe said.
“So let me get this straight,” Pedro said, smiling. “Me getting bonked on the head knocked some sense into you?”
Joe smiled back. “I hadn’t thought of it that way but, well, yeah.”
Bobby Murray’s mom was a doctor, and had been sitting with a lot of the other moms in the stands when Pedro’s head made a sound on the floor like a wood bat hitting a baseball in the big leagues. As soon as Pedro went down, she was on the court so fast it was as if Coach Cory had subbed her into the game.
They brought him into a locker room, and Dr. Murray got her medical