Jack walked back to the bench and sat down next to Hailey, knowing she was anxious for a report. “He’s gonna try to finish the game,” he said as he glanced up at the scoreboard, which announced in bright red numbers that Hope Hull trailed by six points. “But he says he’s not feeling too good.”
“Aww,” was all that Hailey could manage as she kept her eyes locked on Grant.
“Do you think I should take him out?” Jack asked.
“We’re down by six,” Hailey sighed. “You can’t take him out!”
Grant dribbled the ball down court feeling as though he couldn’t go another step but forcing himself to go on. He struggled through the fourth quarter, and with one minute left on the game clock, Hope Hull trailed by four.
“Come-on, Cohen!” Paul yelled from the bench. “You got this!”
“You can do it, Grant!” Hailey added, her hands clinched together so tightly she thought they may go numb.
“Give me all you’ve got for one more minute!” Jack clapped as Grant guarded the opposing point guard.
Grant eyed the ball intensely as it moved up and down, waited for the right moment, saw his opportunity, knocked the ball away and dribbled the length of the court, putting it in for two as he was fouled hard and knocked to the ground.
The small Hope Hull section of the crowd that had faithfully made the trip to Nashville cheered wildly as Nora and the girls gripped hands, waiting for Grant to get up.
“What?” Jack erupted like a bullhorn when no call was made. “Where is the call? That’s a flagrant foul if I’ve ever seen one!”
Two teammates helped Grant to his feet.
Jack was in the referee’s face, his face red, his feet stomping as he jumped up and down with his hands waving wildly.
“Cohen, you okay?” Paul called.
Seeing as how Jack had the referees otherwise occupied, Grant walked over to the bench and squirted a quick sip of water into his mouth. “I’m spent, man. I’ve never felt so out of shape in my life.”
“You’ve been amazing out there,” Hailey rubbed his arm.
All three kids watched as the referee emphatically announced Jack’s ejection from the game.
Jack, still fuming, walked over and put his hands on Grant’s shoulders.
“Coach, you’re out of here!” the referee screamed as he pointed Jack toward the locker room. “Go on now!”
“I can’t leave,” Jack ranted. “You’re gonna let them kill my best player and not even blow your whistle. How much did they pay you? I’ll beat it!”
The kids watched as Jack was escorted from the court. In the bleachers, both Jessica and Nora covered their eyes. Doc Mason and an overall-clad Donny Ray Harper voiced their disapproval of Jack’s coaching decisions as he was taken off. “Gonna bench my boy because of some party; I ain’t ever heard of such!” “Don’t yell at those kids, Jack Nelson…this one is all on you.” “You can’t expect to win with your best players sitting on the bench, Nelson!” John Jordan, dutifully playing town sheriff, beloved minister and school principal, quieted the spirited parents down, just as Judson Simmons started in on the referee! Rusty Cobb was cheering wildly, urging his alma matter on to victory! Barbra Harper was by his side, parroting everything he yelled and drawing the attention of onlookers. Misty wasn’t even watching the game at that point; her eyes were fixed on Barbra and Rusty, who was wearing the same grease stained shirt he always wore. Deb Mason had sewed the nametag on it herself some ten years earlier. Maybelle crossed her arms and flashed Misty an I told you so look before turning to whisper something to Donna Simmons.
Twenty-second later, as the buzzer sounded, Grant sat on the court, staring up at the scoreboard.
“Good game, Cohen,” Paul said extending his hand to help Grant to his feet.
“Good enough to send us home,” Grant grumbled, wrapping his arms around his knees and resting his head on them. “Not much of a thank you for not selling us out last night, huh?”
“Don’t beat yourself up,” Paul insisted. “You played the gutsiest game of basketball I’ve ever seen.”
“He’s right,” Hailey said, kneeling next to Grant.
Jack, who had managed to peek out the locker room door to catch the end of the game, walked out onto the court. “That was a heck of a game,” he nodded as he helped Grant to his feet. “I’m proud of you,” he said sincerely as he pulled Grant into a bear hug. Jack felt Grant go nearly limp in his arms, so weak he could barely stand. Looking toward the bleachers, Jack motioned for Doc Mason, waving him over. “Grant, we’re gonna go to the locker room,” Jack said as he steered Grant in that direction, “and Dr. Mason is going to come check you out, okay?”
Grant sat on a locker room bench being forced to take a lot of deep breaths and answer a round of questions from Paul’s father, who eventually declared that he was indeed just exhausted from his bout with the flu several days earlier.
“How do you feel?” Hailey asked as she sat down next to Grant.
“Just really tired and bummed about losing,” Grant nodded. “As soon as I get to the hotel and rest awhile, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
Because each of the players’ parents had traveled to the game, and Hope Hull was now eliminated from the single elimination tournament, Jack released the kids to their parents and drove Hailey and Grant back to the hotel in the team van, where Hailey, who just couldn’t take the guilt any longer, confessed to her sins from the night prior.
Nora and the girls were waiting in the hotel parking lot when they arrived. Jessica got out of Nora’s car holding two pizza boxes, and Emily emerged with a cake from the grocery store bakery.
“Celebrating our loss?” Hailey quipped as she and Grant gathered their things.
“I’ve got it,” Grant said, taking Hailey’s bag from her and strapping it across his chest, opposite of his.
“Sweetheart, I’m sure Hailey wouldn’t mind carrying her own bag, since you’re sick,” Nora intervened.
“No, not at all,” Hailey replied quickly.
Grant glanced over at his mother and laughed. “I can handle it.”
“You need to take care of yourself,” Nora scolded. “There is no reason you should not be over that cold…it’s because you won’t take long enough to get well…I told you that when you were running around out in the cold playing ball.”
“I’m well,” Grant scoffed. “Granny’s home remedy cured me, remember?”
