Season on the Brink
"Where's my captain?" Paige demanded loudly as her team shot around in the gym.
Jogging over to his new coach, dribbling casually, Nathan reported for duty. "Right here, Coach," he smiled from ear to ear. He had been waiting to be the captain of the Ravens since his freshman year, and it was an honor he wasn't taking lightly. Especially since Whitey had been the one to assign him the job.
But Paige just shook her ponytail and looked over Nathan's head. "I meant the other one." Leveling Nathan with a hard gaze, she sighed. "Where's your brother, Scott?"
As if on cue, the gym doors opened and Lucas jogged in, dressed in uniform and ready for practice. "Sorry I'm late, Coach," he heaved, trying to catch his breath. In an attempt to make up his late-night exit, he had taken Peyton to the park for a picnic, after which they had drifted into peaceful sleep. By the time he woke up, he was already five minutes late.
Paige responded by blowing her whistle. "Take a knee!" she called. The players finished their shots and a few dribbled in response to her demand. The sound of the whistle was shrill as she blew it again. "I SAID TAKE A MOTHERFUCKING KNEE!"
All sound stopped as twelve young men dropped to their knees. Paige walked among them, between them, her cherubic face looking anything but sweet. She was pissed, and they were about to feel her wrath. And it was scarier than anything Whitey had ever put them through.
"So, Scott," she finally said, stopping in front of Lucas with her hands on her hips. "Why don't you take a minute to tell your teammates what exactly was more important than showing up on time for practice."
He looked at the young woman in front of him. Surely she would find it romantic. "Um, I fell asleep in the park with my girlfriend."
But Paige wasn't impressed. "You don't have a girlfriend," she said.
"I don't?" Lucas asked, surprised by her statement.
She shook her head and looked at the team before her. High school boys thought they had the world figured out. And it was one of her greatest joys to let them know that they didn't. "No, you don't. When you step inside this gym, you don't have a girlfriend. None of you do." With her hands on her hips, she let her eyes drift from one player to another to another. "You don't have friends," she looked down at Nathan, "or anyone, really."
"You don't have parents. Parents coddle you, nurture you, and care whether or not you pass AP English. You have a coach. And don't get it twisted, boys. I'm not here to listen to your problems. I don't really care if you leave this year better men. My only concern is that you leave state champions." She took a breath and revelled in the stunned faces of her players. "Inside this gym, you don't have family at all.
"Families share secrets, and dinners, and way too much drama." The look that Lucas and Nathan shared did not go unnoticed by their coach. "But here, you have teammates. You share the ball, and scoring opportunities, and wins and losses." Shaking her head, she blew her whistle again. "You know what else you share?"
An oblivious voice from the back of the group spoke up. "Matching uniforms?"
There were a few chuckles, but Paige wasn't laughing. "No, Mr. Smith," she shook her head, motioning for them to stand. "You share the punishment for smartass remarks," she said pointedly. Looking at Lucas, she gave a small smirk. "And the dumbass actions of your captain."
A series of groans were heard as she instructed them to run suicides. During that first practice, none of them would take a shot. They wouldn't so much as dribble a basketball at all. They ran until their legs felt like jelly. They did push ups until their arms felt like spaghetti. And they did sit ups until they thought everything they had eaten for the last week would come back for an encore.
And they learned, in the span of two hours, that Paige Dixon was not interested in playing a simple game. They would be champions, even if it killed them.