Joe's bar was silent. "This is it," the announcer smiled to the camera.
"It has boiled down to two teams. The Cougars and Sooners are vying for
the top spot in the big twelve. The Cougars had a bit of a set back with
the early retirement of Head Coach Gerald Roberts. Roberts left the team
in the hands of Assistant Coach James Grath, whose tactics seem to be
working well for the team. The Oklahoma Sooners have been on fire this
season. Their captain, Michael Keenan, has been pushing his team harder
than ever in preparation for this game. Both teams are at their best. We
are promised a close scoring and exciting game."
The stadium was packed. There wasn't an empty seat in the house. Duncan, Adam, and Greg had bought seats right behind the Cougar's bench. There were a few die hard Cougars' fans between Duncan and Adam and Greg so they didn't have to pretend to get along. Although Greg did say "My boy's number 23. the captain, Richie Ryan" a little louder than necessary when talking to the man sitting beside him. The O'Neals were a few rows further back. Richie had pulled every string he could find to get them good seats for the sold out game.
The audience was a sea of purple and crimson separated by almost a perfect line down the center of the stadium. Cheers had already started up even though the players were still in the locker rooms.
The Cougars gathered in a small herd in the middle of the locker room. The room was silent. Players self consciously adjusted their uniforms and retied their shoes.
"Alright guys!" Richie said trying to sound calm and confident. "This is it. We busted our butts to get here. In a few hours it will all be over. We get one shot here so we have got to make it count. Remember what we've been practicing. We have a real shot at this. We deserve to win just as much as anyone else. But if we want this, we have to take it. It's not gonna be handed to us. OU wants this just as bad as we do. They're gonna give us a fight for it. We have to fight back and give them hell for it; give them everything we've got; give them a real run for their money. We can do this. We got this far; there isn't any reason to stop here. Until that last buzzer sounds, this isn't a game; this is our life. I have every confidence that we will walk out of here champions and you guys should, too. There is no reason for us to be number two when we have the ability to be number one. Anyone got anything to say before we go out there?"
"Kick some ass!"
"Bomb the Sooners!"
"Go Cougs!"
"Coach?" Richie offered Coach Grath the floor.
"You boys have some amazing talents. I haven't done anything to get you here. You did it yourselves. I'm proud of you boys and I know Coach Roberts is, too. Let's win it for him."
"YEAH!!!!" the team yelled.
The lights went out in the stadium as the teams lined up in the wings ready to run out onto the court. The players took turns running out onto the court as their name was announced. Fans cheered for their favorite team and players. Next came the good sportsmanship rituals. The captains and coaches shook hands.
"You're going down," Keenan said with a friendly smile.
"Best two out of three?" Richie offered.
"Good luck, man."
"You, too."
Then the game began. Players ran back and forth across the court, chasing the ball for all they were worth. Each team had scored over 50 points by the end of the first quarter. Richie's usually easily divertable attention was focused souly on the game. He only glanced at the stands once during the three-minute break between quarters.
The buzzer sounded and the second quarter began. The Cougars sporadically switched players and positions to throw off the Sooners' defense. Buy the end of the first half both teams were stuck just below 90.
As soon as the teams left the court, Duncan's cell phone rang. It was Joe and Amanda calling from the bar.
"Of course we saw it," Duncan said. "We're right here... okay. okay, I'll have him call you tonight. okay, Joe. Bye."
"Duncan?" a voice asked from the aisle.
Duncan looked up. "Heather! It's nice to see you again. How are you doing?" He stood up, as did Adam beside him.
"My parents have been dying to meet you, so I thought I'd bring them down. This is my father, Steven, and my stepmother, Melinda. Dad, Melinda, this is Duncan MacLeod and Adam Pierson."
They exchanged greetings. "Richie's quite the young man," Steven said smiling at Duncan. "And quite a ball player."
"He was playing basketball long before I got a hold of him," Duncan said. "I just had to let him go to the park every Sunday."
"He's a true gentlemen," Melinda added.
"I'll take credit for some of that. He really was pretty well raised by the time I got him. I just threw on the finishing touches."
"Richie speaks very highly of both of you," Steven said. "We've heard a lot about you."
"He's told us a lot about you, too," Adam piped up. "Apparently he's in love with your fried chicken," he told Melinda.
"That's the first thing he told us about when we saw him at Christmas his freshman year. He'd never had homemade fried anything before," Duncan added.
In the Cougar's locker room, the players had gathered silently in the Coach's office. Coach Grath dialed the phone and put it on speaker.
"Hello?" a woman answered.
"May I speak to Coach Roberts, please?" Coach Grath asked politely.
"One minute."
They could hear the phone exchange hands. "Roberts."
"COACH!" the team loudly answered.
"Hi, boys! I've been watching the game. I'm impressed."
"Why ain't ya here, Coach?" a player asked from somewhere amid the sweaty congregation.
"I'm afraid that wasn't an option. But I am watching. You boys are doing great." He rattled off a list of plays that he had been impressed by and a few that needed to be improved. "But you boys are doing great. You're going to win; I can feel it."
"Okay, boys; we need to get back to the game," Coach Grath announced. He took the phone to the door so each player had a chance to say something to Coach Roberts before they left the office. Richie was the last to leave.
"It's in the bag, Coach."
"I'm proud of you boys. They're in good hands with you, Ryan."
"Thanks, Coach."
The third quarter was fast paced and low scoring. The players were concentrating on keeping the other team from scoring. The third quarter ended in a tie: 97 to 97.
Coach Grath called a time out and the team huddled together. "Alright, boys, this is it. We need to keep possession of the ball as much as possible. They're seeing through our defense, which means we have to change it up. We're not putting players in by seniority; it all depends on how well they read you. I want Cooper and Lamb at the top of the key, Swim at center, Foster and Rowley at post. The rest of you boys will get your chance. I want you five on the court the rest of you sit down, catch your breath and keep your energy up. when I say you're in, you're in. When you're out, you're out. I want to get as many people on that court as possible so no arguing. Got it?" They nodded. "Okay hands in, on three. One, two three."
"COUGS!"
Cooper, Lamb, Swim, Foster and Rowley went on the court and the rest sat on the bench. There was no time for the benched players to carry on a conversation. Every minute or so, Grath would switch two players out. Richie patiently waited his turn. He did his best to ignore Greg's yells of "Why the hell is my boy out of the game? What's wrong Coach, you stupid?" Richie turned and looked for Duncan and Adam, spotted them, yelled to get their attention and waved. They smiled and waved back. Duncan had that same 'Proud Papa' look he had had when Richie announced to everyone that he was going to college and had made the basketball team. He was just about to look for the O'Neals when Grath yelled his name.
"Ryan, take Smith's place. Go!"
After a quick check in, Richie was on the court again with two minutes and twenty-six seconds on the clock. The score was tied 128 to 128 and the Sooners had the ball. They broke the Cougar's defense and scored.
It was now 130 to 128.
The ball was passed around the court so fast it was hard for even the players to keep up with where the ball was as they ran up and down the court in a small herd. Suddenly, Richie found himself at the top of the key with the ball in his hands. He took a chance and shot the ball and scored a three-pointer.
130 to 131.
A few seconds after that the Cougars scored again.
130 to 133.
The Sooners now had possession and ran the ball to their side of the court. They passed the ball around to kill time and then scored a three pointer.
133 to 133.
"Cougars have the ball," the TV announcer said. "Feingold passes to Ryan, Ryan to Allen, back to Feingold who shoots and. denied! The Sooners take the rebound and Lubbers takes it down the court, passes it to Douglas, Douglas sends it to Washington, Washington shoots and is fouled by Gonzales from Missouri. The players line up for the foul shots. Washington shoots. and misses. He prepares for his next shot and makes it!"
134 to 133.
"Cougars get the ball again with less than a minute remaining. Allen passes to Young, Young to. intercepted by Lubbers who shoots for the Sooners and misses! The Cougars take the rebound. Young takes it down the court, passes to Allen, Allen to Feingold, Ryan's open at the bottom of the key just waiting for the ball. Feingold pivots and sends it to Gonzales, Gonzales to Ryan. Ryan looks for his shot, but Jacobs is all over him, ten seconds to go. Ryan's looking. FOUL!!! Foul on Richie Ryan by Anthony Jacobs. If Ryan can make these two shot, the Cougars win the game. If not, they have five seconds to try again."
"Two shots, son," the ref told Richie handing him the ball. Richie nodded his understanding. "Whenever you're ready."
Richie held the ball for a second, and then bounced it a few times. He lined up his shot, took a minute to attempt to relax and took the shot.
134 to 134.
"This is it, Ladies and Gentlemen," the announcer said. "If Ryan makes this shot, it's all over."
The ref gave Richie the ball back. The stadium was silent as Richie bounced the ball. He took it in his hands, looked at the basket, closed his eyes, and took his shot. He heard the ball hit the rim and opened his eyes.. The ball bounced around taking its dear, sweet time, deciding on if it would go in or not. The players under the basket stiffened and Richie fell to his knees as the ball tipped off the basket and back into play.
The audience let out a collective groan that suddenly turned into cheers as the buzzer sounded. 'I lost it,' Richie thought. 'I let the whole team down. with a stupid free throw.' He was on the verge of letting himself cry out of frustration when people started screaming around him and slapping his back.
"We did it!" The Cougars yelled repeatedly.
Richie looked up at the scoreboard, 134 to 136. The Cougars had won. Richie took no time in letting himself get swept into the excitement and was soon bouncing around and screaming with his teammates. The center of the court turned into a mosh pit as the players collected around each other bouncing, screaming, hugging, swinging their jerseys over their heads and rough housing in celebration of their victory.
"Ladies and Gentlemen!" a voice said over the PA system "I give you the 1997 Big Twelve Champions the South Missouri University Cougars!"
The fans were screaming, the players were screaming.. The stadium was in an uproar. 'We Are the Champions' started playing. It took the Cougars a good five minutes to get off the court.
Reporters were lining the hall to the locker room yelling questions to the players as they passed. The players would stop periodically and answer one but most were intent on showering, getting through the press conference, and getting to the after party at the Stadium.
Richie got cornered by a news crew from New York. "How do you feel, Ryan?" the reporter asked.
"I'm elated, excited, stoked. I'm really proud of what we did. I admit, I kinda freaked there at the end, but we did it."
"What have you learned for the experience?"
"Never underestimate what can happen in five seconds."
"What are you going to do now?"
"Well, I'm smell pretty bad, so I guess I'll go take care of that," Richie said with a smile.
The reporter laughed. "Thank you and congratulations."
"Thanks."
Eventually the players made it to the locker room and got into the shower. Their excitement didn't wash away with their sweat. A loud chorus of 'Bomb the Sooners' could be heard clearly in the hallway.
Twenty minutes later, the press was assembled in the press room as the team filed in wearing suits and ties. Flashbulbs began going off the second they entered the room. The team clumped onto the small platform behind the podium. Coach Grath stood beside them; he had already told the reports Richie and the other players would be fielding the questions. Richie stepped up to the podium first.
"Ryan, how did it feel when you thought you blew the game?" a reporter asked.
Richie had to laugh at the bluntness of the question. "Um. I was about three seconds from crying. I felt horrible. and I feel even worse because it never occurred to me that we could still score if I missed."
"What was your plan going into the game?" another reporter asked.
"Coach Grath wanted to get everyone on the court. He wanted everyone to have a chance to score. Which we all thought was really cool. So our plan was to do as much as we could with as many as we could."
"Did you expect the game to play out as it did?"
Richie stepped back and let Feingold answer the question. "We were expecting to have to really fight to get what we wanted. We knew OU was going to be in top condition so we had to be, too. We worked hard and knew that if we played right, we'd win."
"How did working with a new Coach affect your game?"
John answered this one. "He had some great new ideas for us to try out. We had a bit of a self-coaching system. We divided into teams and played each other to try out new plays and their defenses."
"What do you have to say to the Sooners now that you won?"
Richie stepped up to the podium before anyone could answer. "They gave us everything we were expecting and then some. They played really well. We thank them for a great game."
"How did your team take the news of Coach Roberts' death?"
The team, who had been horsing around behind the podium, froze. Richie swallowed hard and looked behind him. His teammates looked as he knew he did. horrified and about to loose it on camera.
"This is how we take it," he said. "No one told us.. I think that's it for now." He and the team left the room in stunned silence.
The stadium was packed. There wasn't an empty seat in the house. Duncan, Adam, and Greg had bought seats right behind the Cougar's bench. There were a few die hard Cougars' fans between Duncan and Adam and Greg so they didn't have to pretend to get along. Although Greg did say "My boy's number 23. the captain, Richie Ryan" a little louder than necessary when talking to the man sitting beside him. The O'Neals were a few rows further back. Richie had pulled every string he could find to get them good seats for the sold out game.
The audience was a sea of purple and crimson separated by almost a perfect line down the center of the stadium. Cheers had already started up even though the players were still in the locker rooms.
The Cougars gathered in a small herd in the middle of the locker room. The room was silent. Players self consciously adjusted their uniforms and retied their shoes.
"Alright guys!" Richie said trying to sound calm and confident. "This is it. We busted our butts to get here. In a few hours it will all be over. We get one shot here so we have got to make it count. Remember what we've been practicing. We have a real shot at this. We deserve to win just as much as anyone else. But if we want this, we have to take it. It's not gonna be handed to us. OU wants this just as bad as we do. They're gonna give us a fight for it. We have to fight back and give them hell for it; give them everything we've got; give them a real run for their money. We can do this. We got this far; there isn't any reason to stop here. Until that last buzzer sounds, this isn't a game; this is our life. I have every confidence that we will walk out of here champions and you guys should, too. There is no reason for us to be number two when we have the ability to be number one. Anyone got anything to say before we go out there?"
"Kick some ass!"
"Bomb the Sooners!"
"Go Cougs!"
"Coach?" Richie offered Coach Grath the floor.
"You boys have some amazing talents. I haven't done anything to get you here. You did it yourselves. I'm proud of you boys and I know Coach Roberts is, too. Let's win it for him."
"YEAH!!!!" the team yelled.
The lights went out in the stadium as the teams lined up in the wings ready to run out onto the court. The players took turns running out onto the court as their name was announced. Fans cheered for their favorite team and players. Next came the good sportsmanship rituals. The captains and coaches shook hands.
"You're going down," Keenan said with a friendly smile.
"Best two out of three?" Richie offered.
"Good luck, man."
"You, too."
Then the game began. Players ran back and forth across the court, chasing the ball for all they were worth. Each team had scored over 50 points by the end of the first quarter. Richie's usually easily divertable attention was focused souly on the game. He only glanced at the stands once during the three-minute break between quarters.
The buzzer sounded and the second quarter began. The Cougars sporadically switched players and positions to throw off the Sooners' defense. Buy the end of the first half both teams were stuck just below 90.
As soon as the teams left the court, Duncan's cell phone rang. It was Joe and Amanda calling from the bar.
"Of course we saw it," Duncan said. "We're right here... okay. okay, I'll have him call you tonight. okay, Joe. Bye."
"Duncan?" a voice asked from the aisle.
Duncan looked up. "Heather! It's nice to see you again. How are you doing?" He stood up, as did Adam beside him.
"My parents have been dying to meet you, so I thought I'd bring them down. This is my father, Steven, and my stepmother, Melinda. Dad, Melinda, this is Duncan MacLeod and Adam Pierson."
They exchanged greetings. "Richie's quite the young man," Steven said smiling at Duncan. "And quite a ball player."
"He was playing basketball long before I got a hold of him," Duncan said. "I just had to let him go to the park every Sunday."
"He's a true gentlemen," Melinda added.
"I'll take credit for some of that. He really was pretty well raised by the time I got him. I just threw on the finishing touches."
"Richie speaks very highly of both of you," Steven said. "We've heard a lot about you."
"He's told us a lot about you, too," Adam piped up. "Apparently he's in love with your fried chicken," he told Melinda.
"That's the first thing he told us about when we saw him at Christmas his freshman year. He'd never had homemade fried anything before," Duncan added.
In the Cougar's locker room, the players had gathered silently in the Coach's office. Coach Grath dialed the phone and put it on speaker.
"Hello?" a woman answered.
"May I speak to Coach Roberts, please?" Coach Grath asked politely.
"One minute."
They could hear the phone exchange hands. "Roberts."
"COACH!" the team loudly answered.
"Hi, boys! I've been watching the game. I'm impressed."
"Why ain't ya here, Coach?" a player asked from somewhere amid the sweaty congregation.
"I'm afraid that wasn't an option. But I am watching. You boys are doing great." He rattled off a list of plays that he had been impressed by and a few that needed to be improved. "But you boys are doing great. You're going to win; I can feel it."
"Okay, boys; we need to get back to the game," Coach Grath announced. He took the phone to the door so each player had a chance to say something to Coach Roberts before they left the office. Richie was the last to leave.
"It's in the bag, Coach."
"I'm proud of you boys. They're in good hands with you, Ryan."
"Thanks, Coach."
The third quarter was fast paced and low scoring. The players were concentrating on keeping the other team from scoring. The third quarter ended in a tie: 97 to 97.
Coach Grath called a time out and the team huddled together. "Alright, boys, this is it. We need to keep possession of the ball as much as possible. They're seeing through our defense, which means we have to change it up. We're not putting players in by seniority; it all depends on how well they read you. I want Cooper and Lamb at the top of the key, Swim at center, Foster and Rowley at post. The rest of you boys will get your chance. I want you five on the court the rest of you sit down, catch your breath and keep your energy up. when I say you're in, you're in. When you're out, you're out. I want to get as many people on that court as possible so no arguing. Got it?" They nodded. "Okay hands in, on three. One, two three."
"COUGS!"
Cooper, Lamb, Swim, Foster and Rowley went on the court and the rest sat on the bench. There was no time for the benched players to carry on a conversation. Every minute or so, Grath would switch two players out. Richie patiently waited his turn. He did his best to ignore Greg's yells of "Why the hell is my boy out of the game? What's wrong Coach, you stupid?" Richie turned and looked for Duncan and Adam, spotted them, yelled to get their attention and waved. They smiled and waved back. Duncan had that same 'Proud Papa' look he had had when Richie announced to everyone that he was going to college and had made the basketball team. He was just about to look for the O'Neals when Grath yelled his name.
"Ryan, take Smith's place. Go!"
After a quick check in, Richie was on the court again with two minutes and twenty-six seconds on the clock. The score was tied 128 to 128 and the Sooners had the ball. They broke the Cougar's defense and scored.
It was now 130 to 128.
The ball was passed around the court so fast it was hard for even the players to keep up with where the ball was as they ran up and down the court in a small herd. Suddenly, Richie found himself at the top of the key with the ball in his hands. He took a chance and shot the ball and scored a three-pointer.
130 to 131.
A few seconds after that the Cougars scored again.
130 to 133.
The Sooners now had possession and ran the ball to their side of the court. They passed the ball around to kill time and then scored a three pointer.
133 to 133.
"Cougars have the ball," the TV announcer said. "Feingold passes to Ryan, Ryan to Allen, back to Feingold who shoots and. denied! The Sooners take the rebound and Lubbers takes it down the court, passes it to Douglas, Douglas sends it to Washington, Washington shoots and is fouled by Gonzales from Missouri. The players line up for the foul shots. Washington shoots. and misses. He prepares for his next shot and makes it!"
134 to 133.
"Cougars get the ball again with less than a minute remaining. Allen passes to Young, Young to. intercepted by Lubbers who shoots for the Sooners and misses! The Cougars take the rebound. Young takes it down the court, passes to Allen, Allen to Feingold, Ryan's open at the bottom of the key just waiting for the ball. Feingold pivots and sends it to Gonzales, Gonzales to Ryan. Ryan looks for his shot, but Jacobs is all over him, ten seconds to go. Ryan's looking. FOUL!!! Foul on Richie Ryan by Anthony Jacobs. If Ryan can make these two shot, the Cougars win the game. If not, they have five seconds to try again."
"Two shots, son," the ref told Richie handing him the ball. Richie nodded his understanding. "Whenever you're ready."
Richie held the ball for a second, and then bounced it a few times. He lined up his shot, took a minute to attempt to relax and took the shot.
134 to 134.
"This is it, Ladies and Gentlemen," the announcer said. "If Ryan makes this shot, it's all over."
The ref gave Richie the ball back. The stadium was silent as Richie bounced the ball. He took it in his hands, looked at the basket, closed his eyes, and took his shot. He heard the ball hit the rim and opened his eyes.. The ball bounced around taking its dear, sweet time, deciding on if it would go in or not. The players under the basket stiffened and Richie fell to his knees as the ball tipped off the basket and back into play.
The audience let out a collective groan that suddenly turned into cheers as the buzzer sounded. 'I lost it,' Richie thought. 'I let the whole team down. with a stupid free throw.' He was on the verge of letting himself cry out of frustration when people started screaming around him and slapping his back.
"We did it!" The Cougars yelled repeatedly.
Richie looked up at the scoreboard, 134 to 136. The Cougars had won. Richie took no time in letting himself get swept into the excitement and was soon bouncing around and screaming with his teammates. The center of the court turned into a mosh pit as the players collected around each other bouncing, screaming, hugging, swinging their jerseys over their heads and rough housing in celebration of their victory.
"Ladies and Gentlemen!" a voice said over the PA system "I give you the 1997 Big Twelve Champions the South Missouri University Cougars!"
The fans were screaming, the players were screaming.. The stadium was in an uproar. 'We Are the Champions' started playing. It took the Cougars a good five minutes to get off the court.
Reporters were lining the hall to the locker room yelling questions to the players as they passed. The players would stop periodically and answer one but most were intent on showering, getting through the press conference, and getting to the after party at the Stadium.
Richie got cornered by a news crew from New York. "How do you feel, Ryan?" the reporter asked.
"I'm elated, excited, stoked. I'm really proud of what we did. I admit, I kinda freaked there at the end, but we did it."
"What have you learned for the experience?"
"Never underestimate what can happen in five seconds."
"What are you going to do now?"
"Well, I'm smell pretty bad, so I guess I'll go take care of that," Richie said with a smile.
The reporter laughed. "Thank you and congratulations."
"Thanks."
Eventually the players made it to the locker room and got into the shower. Their excitement didn't wash away with their sweat. A loud chorus of 'Bomb the Sooners' could be heard clearly in the hallway.
Twenty minutes later, the press was assembled in the press room as the team filed in wearing suits and ties. Flashbulbs began going off the second they entered the room. The team clumped onto the small platform behind the podium. Coach Grath stood beside them; he had already told the reports Richie and the other players would be fielding the questions. Richie stepped up to the podium first.
"Ryan, how did it feel when you thought you blew the game?" a reporter asked.
Richie had to laugh at the bluntness of the question. "Um. I was about three seconds from crying. I felt horrible. and I feel even worse because it never occurred to me that we could still score if I missed."
"What was your plan going into the game?" another reporter asked.
"Coach Grath wanted to get everyone on the court. He wanted everyone to have a chance to score. Which we all thought was really cool. So our plan was to do as much as we could with as many as we could."
"Did you expect the game to play out as it did?"
Richie stepped back and let Feingold answer the question. "We were expecting to have to really fight to get what we wanted. We knew OU was going to be in top condition so we had to be, too. We worked hard and knew that if we played right, we'd win."
"How did working with a new Coach affect your game?"
John answered this one. "He had some great new ideas for us to try out. We had a bit of a self-coaching system. We divided into teams and played each other to try out new plays and their defenses."
"What do you have to say to the Sooners now that you won?"
Richie stepped up to the podium before anyone could answer. "They gave us everything we were expecting and then some. They played really well. We thank them for a great game."
"How did your team take the news of Coach Roberts' death?"
The team, who had been horsing around behind the podium, froze. Richie swallowed hard and looked behind him. His teammates looked as he knew he did. horrified and about to loose it on camera.
"This is how we take it," he said. "No one told us.. I think that's it for now." He and the team left the room in stunned silence.