Chapter 17: Last Shot

The national final came down to the last four seconds, and the scoreboard said they were behind by one.

Raven had the ball at the top of the key with a navy defender on his hip, and the whole stadium was standing.

He could hear Coach screaming at him to call the play.

He could hear his mother, somewhere in the stands, and a banner flapping that said FOOTWEAR.

The league man in the blue blazer sat behind the press table with his folder shut.

Raven had told him "after the final," and Noah had told him "in writing."

The man had been watching Raven's hands ever since.

He looked at the sideline, where Noah stood in his cream sweater with the clipboard pressed to his chest.

Noah had written one thing on it, in marker, large enough to read from the floor.

NOT FINE?

Raven grinned, and made a T with his hands.

The ref blew the whistle.

"Timeout, Grandwell's," he said, and Coach nearly sat down on the floor.

The huddle was the shortest of Raven's life.

"I'm taking the last shot," he said. "Freshman, you screen. If they double me, you're open on the wing. Either way it goes in."

"What if it doesn't?" asked the freshman.

"Then I'm sorry we lost," said Raven. "And I'll still feel fine about it, for the first time."

They broke, and the horn went, and the ball came to him at the top of the key.

The defender stayed on his hip the whole way.

Raven dribbled left, stopped, crossed back, and rose.

The ball left his fingers with a soft backspin and dropped through the net as the buzzer sounded.

The stadium broke open.

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