Free Sea of Crises by Marty Steere Page A

boy bounced the ball a couple of times before lifting it up, taking aim and giving the same flick of the wrist. This time the flight of the ball carried it further, and, when it came down, it struck the base of the rim, bouncing up high. Nate had stepped into the lane with the motion of the shot and peered upward, willing the ball to miss. Behind him, Everest pushed, trying to get position for a rebound, but Nate braced himself and held his ground.
    The ball struck the front of the rim at an angle that sent it ricocheting toward the backboard. Nate tensed, ready to leap. But, to his chagrin, the ball bounced straight back and through the hoop.
    Again, the arena erupted.
    Nate wasted no time. As the ball cleared the net, he grabbed it and flipped it to one of the officials while stepping over the end line and preparing to inbound. The man immediately blew his whistle and tossed the ball back. Everest stepped in front of Nate and began hopping up and down, his long arms extended and waving, seeking to deny Nate the ability to make a clean pass. To Everest’s surprise, however, Nate suddenly dashed to his right along the baseline, an unusual, but legal, move after a made basket. Everest was caught in mid-jump, and was left behind.
    Looking down court, Nate saw that Matt, who’d started out under the far basket, was now sprinting in his direction. His defender - the other Evansville guard who had not been previously matched up against Matt and who had apparently not anticipated Matt’s quickness - had been left flat-footed. Nate planted himself near the end of the base line and, with one hand, heaved the ball in Matt’s direction as if it were a baseball. At a spot about thirty-five feet from the basket, Matt and the ball arrived at the same moment, Matt jumping up slightly and grabbing it out of the air. He came down and immediately pivoted on one foot, squaring himself with the basket. The Evansville guard was closing, but not quickly enough.
    Matt bent his knees, and, in one graceful motion, pushed himself upward and let the basketball fly.
    For Nate, time seemed to slow to a crawl. As the ball rose in a high arc, rotating slightly backwards, the clock at the far end of the court ticked down to zero, and the red light behind the backboard illuminated. The crowd’s roar morphed into a collective scream as the orb passed through its zenith and began its downward track. Nate thought it might strike the front of the rim. But instead it passed unscathed through the iron with a satisfying swish of the net.
    Jackson had won.
    This time there was no stopping the crowd from charging the court, and, for the next few minutes, it was a sea of happy bedlam. Several people slapped a somewhat dazed Nate on the back. A few grabbed him in exuberant embraces. Peter had helped Gamma down from the stands, and, when she reached him, she gave him a mighty hug.
    “I’m so happy for you Nate.”
    As the players eventually made their way to the locker room beneath the stands, Nate found himself walking next to Matt. His brother wore an expression of pure joy, and he gave Nate a friendly punch on the arm.
    “Nice pass.”
    Nate nodded in appreciation. But, as they turned into the long corridor leading to the visitor’s locker room, he gave Matt a serious look. “Why did you admit it?”
    Matt’s own face turned serious, and, for several seconds, the two brothers said nothing, the hoots and hollers from their teammates echoing off the concrete walls around them. When they reached the door to the locker room, Matt stepped to the side, and Nate did likewise, allowing the others to pass. Neither said anything. Finally, Matt shrugged. “If I hadn’t, it wouldn’t have been right. Would it?”
    Nate wasn’t sure what to say. He couldn’t help wondering whether, had he found himself in the same situation, he’d have been able to do the same thing.
    Then Matt’s grin returned. “And anyway, it’s better like this, right?”
    Nate considered