Hoops and Dreams

[31.2] Long Shot

Plan A is never going to work. That's just a fact.

There is no way our team of very inadequately prepared substitutes has a prayer against last season's semi-finalists. Unless they decide to break into an actual prayer on the basketball court. But unfortunately, that's frowned upon. They have to rely on their ability and my snap plays. Which don't stack up to any real plays Coach Carter has taught.

The underdogs always win trope does not apply to this particular situation.

There are only a few ways this can go and all of them end in various levels of soul-crushing defeat. Not the most motivational of outlooks but my dad didn't raise a blind optimist. A skilled procrastinator? Yes. A habitual liar? Maybe. And a sketchy friend? Sure. But not someone who can't see the state of the thing for what it really was.

And today's forecast was cloudy with a 100 percent chance of humiliating loss.

Which is why I have a plan B.

I prop my pc onto my lap as the ball is tossed into the air to signify the start of the game.

Shirts and skins. One of the most simultaneously disturbing and appealing variations of basketball. It's kind of hard to not stare at the sweaty male torsos on display. I don't have the discipline for that. Most annoying is the fact that the one person I'd actually want to see shirtless is still in his basketball jersey.

Perhaps it was for the best, I need all my concentration working in one direction right now.

I turn back to my laptop and plug the solid black router into one of the USB ports. Then I glance at the time flashing in the corner of the screen and promise to keep mental track of how long the game would run. I have less than 90 minutes.

I came into this knowing fully well that Marco would never hand us the security footage. Especially if-and more likely- when we lost to him. No amount of begging, pleading, or negotiating would force his hand. Instead of asking nicely, I would have to take it.

Around me, the game begins in earnest.

It starts slowly with the ball being passed at a relatively friendly pace. But after a few minutes, the first pointedly un-friendly activity shows up.

To his credit and I say this begrudgingly, James with his broken arm and clear parallel allegiances holds his own on defense. When the ball sweeps into his corner, he's able to mark Marco's offense effectively. It's because of him that Sam can cut off the Lizard's first attempt at a basket.

I look up just in time to see Sam do it. Apparently, he's not only the tall comic relief with great hair. He's vicious when it comes to blocking. And to think Coach Carters had him warming the bench this entire time.

I force my eyes back down to my laptop. I only have to wait for a few minutes before the router is powered up and operational. As operational as a device with a manufacturing date in the late 2000s can be that is. Which isn't great. It lights up and makes a whirring sound through its ancient fan. It's funny how a few years can render a device obsolete.

I'd spent a good chunk of my Spanish and Physics classes with my phone tucked into my sleeve at a precarious angle. Such that I could scroll through Reddit and look to the untrained eyes of my instructors like I was absorbed with copying notes in the two foreign languages they both taught. Which I wasn't.

A note to future self: Sundresses have suck-ish sleeves for covert operations. Come Tuesday I would be back to long-sleeved t-shirts and jeans. Anything else was impractical.

Anyway, I'd been deep in Reddit archives scrolling all the way back to 2015 looking for some advice on the very specific list of semi-legal tasks I needed completed.