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Friday, February 1
Patriot Stadium Practice Gym, Williamsburg, VA
"You sure you'll be all right, Vera?" Leonard Mack (fox, PF, WIL) asked. Vera La Tiérra (red vixen, PG, WIL) nodded, propping a basketball between her right hip and arm. She tried to reassure him with a smile.
"Sí, Lennie, I'll be fine... I promise you," she said.
"All right, Vera."
The black-haired fox leaned down and kissed her.
"I love you."
"Te amo también, zorro guapo."
Mack left the gymnasium, leaving the vixen alone. La Tiérra walked around, dribbling the rock on the hardwood. The sound of the bounces reverberated throughout the room.
Vera took the ball in her paws, looked up at the nearby hoop and net, and gingerly shot the ball.
Swish.
She sighed and left the basketball to bounce and settle on the court. The vixen took a seat on one of the cushy bench chairs and stared up at the rafters directly above her, her tail lightly twitching back and forth. The buzz of the lights was the only sound she heard.
Aside from the various memories in her head.
"Vera, you're our captain and we support you, no matter what," Teo Masalia said.
"Does Vera La Tiérra deserve to be captain of the Minutemen?" asked Stuart Spot (dalmatian) of FSPN.
"You suck, you overpaid slinger! Go back to Puerto Rico where you belong!" yelled some fan she never saw in Baltimore.
"The only way Vera can make anything better now is if she gives her salary to charity. The way she's playing, she doesn't deserve a penny," opined FSPN analyst Chip Rivermore (chipmunk), in concordence with Spot.
"Vera, don't listen to any of them. It shouldn't matter what they say," Leonard said.
She groaned and leaned forward, putting her head in her paws, trying not to sob. She was so confused.
"Vera?" asked a voice behind her.
The vixen looked up behind her, thankful that she wasn't crying. Looking back at her was a familiar orange tabby cat. The cat, just a little taller than her, was showing his age with his fading orange fur. He was dressed in khaki pants, brown shoes and a navy polo shirt with the Minutemen musket logo on the left breast.
Jake Masters (orange tabby cat, retired), looked down at Vera, his brown eyes showing concern.
"Is everything all right?" he asked. La Tiérra stood up and instinctively brushed aside her hair, trying to straighten it out a little bit.
"Sí, sí, Jake. Everything's fine," she said. That was obviously a lie, and the vixen felt quite cornered. Masters folded his arms across his chest.
"Are you sure?" he prodded.
The vixen frowned, then started to walk briskly to the locker rooms.
"Vera! Vera, wait!" Jake implored, jogging over to her. He quickly tried to grab her shoulder to stop her.
The vixen growled as she whipped around and swiped her paw at the older cat's arm.
"¡Sólo déjame en paz!" she hissed.
Masters looked at the vixen, anger in her eyes and a scowl on her face. But the scowl and rage faded after a few moments, as Jake watched her flatten her ears a little in shame.
"I just want to talk to you, Vera."
"Entrenador Roosevelt le envió, ¿verdad?" she asked quietly. Jake shook his head, understanding easily.
"It doesn't matter whether Morgan sent me or not. Please, just come with me to the A/V room. I want to show you something."
Vera sighed and followed Jake to the audio-video rooms. He had a few DVDs taken out from the team's collection and he held up a freshly-labelled case, imprinted with the Minutemen musket logo and Pittsburgh's black keystone logo. The label read: "WIL @ PIT, 1/31/2013". Their last game.
"Would you watch this with me for a little while?" he asked. The vixen let out an exasperated sigh and nodded. "Of course I will, Jake," she replied. It's not like she had a choice.
The cat inserted the video disc and the two watched the game, duplicated from Williamsburg’s regional TV network.
La Tiérra was intently watching the action, the Minutemen dressed in their red road uniforms while Pittsburgh donned their home whites. Jake knew she was going over every play in her head, observing what she saw.
She watched as Teo Masalia (black panther, SG, WIL) drained a trey from the top of the key. Dorian Black (black cat, SF, PIT) made a great inside pass to Kamakani Iona (red panda, PF, PIT) for the easy lay-in. Randy Catcher (bullfrog, PG, PIT) was controlling the boards out of the guard position, hopping up strongly to grab rebounds with his webbed hands.
Jake let her watch the game in silence until about the middle of the second quarter, when Nick Nwabudike (elephant, C, WIL) grabbed a miss by Vera with his long trunk and stuffed it back into the hoop.
"What do you see?" Jake finally asked. Vera's answer was immediate:
"I see myself missing a lot of shots and I couldn't stop Randy Catcher from getting a triple-double," she said.
"That's all you remember? Truly?"
Vera nodded curtly.
The cat nodded back and forwarded to the fourth quarter.
"You don't remember this?"
It was the middle of the fourth, with the Minutemen up by five points. For all Randy was doing, for all his shots and precise passes, including three crowd-pleasing alley-oops to Alan Murphy (kangaroo, SF, PIT), the Minutemen were able to stay one step ahead of them.
Vera took the ball down the court, Catcher coming out to defend against her. She didn't turn her back to him, but instead immediately cut once she saw Ain Iannizzi (cougar, SF, WIL) screening Murphy. She looked to the hoop, but then passed off to the left. Masalia was waiting there to accept the pass behind the arc, smoothly draining the three-pointer.
Minutemen coach Morgan Roosevelt (raccoon, HC, WIL) clapped his paws and ran down the sideline, yelling a scheme. Keystones coach Omar Randal (raccoon, HC, PIT) had his arms crossed, barking out orders himself.
Catcher dribbled the ball and La Tiérra went back to defend him. He dumped the ball off to Murphy, who in turn shuffled the ball to Crystal Davis (Cheetah, SG, PIT). The young cheetah cut past Nwabudike and quickly banked the ball off the glass and through the hoop. Masalia took the inbound pass and passed off to Vera as Pittsburgh went back to defend. She immediately drove then saw her opening as she moved behind Iona.
She saw Leonard. The vixen whipped the ball out to the big fox and he let fly with a high, arcing shot from behind the line. The ball found its mark, thunking into the hoop. Randal quickly called a timeout to attempt to stop the momentum.
Mack high-fived Vera and the two went back to the sideline together, their tails subtly brushing together, smiles on both their faces.
The vixen looked like she was watching that for the first time.
"You look happy there."
"I... yes, I was, but..."
"But you don't want to focus on that."
Vera growled. "I do, Jake! I was very happy for Leonard!"
"I don't doubt that."
He stood up and put his paws on her shoulders.
"But, Vera, it takes more than scoring to be the captain of a team. Do you know who Rick Walton is?"
The vixen nodded. "I do."
Jake sat back down. "He was the first captain of the Minutemen," he reminded her. "Red held the title for four years. Despite his issues with his knees, he gave everything he had. He was a great inspiration to everybody, even if we didn't win or get into the playoffs."
"Mmmm."
"In '87, Red said that was going to be his last season. People wondered for months whom he was going to pick as captain. Coach Roosevelt told us players that we decide whom is the captain of the team from the beginning.
"In April, he took me aside one practice and told me that he was going to pick me to inherit the title. 'Jake, you're the guy to lead this team. You have the emotion, the intensity to do it,' he said. Then the playoffs happened, and I cried after we lost to Hamilton.
"When it was revealed that I was named captain, the reaction was almost immediate: 'How in the world can that bawling kitten be captain?! He doesn't have the guts to do it. Wusses can't be captains!'
"You wouldn't believe how much I struggled inwardly in 1988, much like you are now. I know how much you're holding inside, Vera."
Vera stayed silent when she heard that.
Jake shook his head. "I called Rick one day in tears. I told him I didn't think I could lead. He told me to calm down, and then he said something I'll never forget: 'I wanted you to be captain, Jake, because you understand basketball is not about you.'
"It took me a little while to fully understand what he meant. I hope it takes you less time, Vera," Jake said with a knowing smile. He stopped the DVD and removed it from the player, putting it back in its case.
Vera stood up and brushed aside her hair, briefly taking in what he had told her. "Thanks for talking with me, Jake, I think I feel a little better now," she said.
"That's good. I have confidence in you, Vera. Everyone in this organization does."
"I know. I'll see joo tomorrow for the flight to Galveston."
"Have a good night, Vera."
The vixen left the office, changed in the locker room and left, her gym bag slung over her shoulder. Vera took out her oPhone and pressed a few buttons, putting the phone to her ear.
"... Hello, Eleanor. Would you be up to a bit of midnight basketball tonight?... great, let's go to the park near my house. It'll be good there."
* * *
Saturday, February 2
12:30 A.M., McDermott Park Basketball Courts
The court lights illuminated the asphalt court as Eleanor Rigby (Deer, PG, WIL) posted up against a shirtless lynx, who was wearing a red bandana and jeans. Shirts vs. furs. He tried reaching around here and she passed off the ball to a cutting Vera, who lost her bald eagle opponent. The vixen took the ball in both her paws and leaped, a crescendo of cheers from small group of furs. She got the ball above the hoop and jammed it home.
“WHOOOOOOOOOOAAAAA!!!” whooped most of the crowd. Vera grinned as she accepted high fives from the various furs in the group for the dunk, including her young opponents.
“You’re still awesome, Vera!”
“You gotta try that move in a game!”
“Come on, just try it again!” said the lynx, grinning. “Bet you can’t do it a second time, Vera!”
“Jou’re on!”
The vixen and doe spent another hour or so driving to the hoop, taking smooth shots, and an occasional jam. It was a joy to put on such an intimate show for the fans, and the two ladies signed several autographs afterwards.
* * *
Eleanor walked beside Vera at a leisurely pace as the teen and young adult furs continued to shoot hoops into the night. The doe finally spoke up when they reached Vera’s street.
“So that was fun,” she said. Vera nodded. “It was very fun, si. Nice to see so many passionate chicos about basketball.”
Eleanor nodded. “Totally. How did you fare, like, finding yourself in the gym?” she asked.
La Tiérra frowned at the question. “I might have gotten an answer, but I’m not truly sure,” she admitted, leaving out the specifics, thinking Rigby didn’t need to fully know what happened. The doe nodded.
“You could try, like, searching inside. Most of the answers we need are within us,” she said. Vera shook her head slowly.
“Eleanor, I... dun think that’s for me,” she said lightly. The vixen was definitely not into New Age meditation and the like. It worked for Eleanor, but, no, not her.
“How about prayer?” Rigby asked, looking at her friend. Vera was silent for a moment.
“Well... I haven’t in such a long time...”
“Doesn’t hurt to try. That could be, like, where you find your answers,” Eleanor said supportingly.
The two reached the vixen’s house and Vera wished Eleanor good night, thanking her for coming. Watching the doe drive away, Vera then went inside her home.
* * *
After showering, dressing in her red nightgown and brushing her teeth, Vera entered her bedroom. Walking in the dimly lit area, she headed idly to the far wall, turned and slumped against it, sinking to the floor.
She used to really believe. Raised Roman Catholic, she was taught she’d never be forsaken, that God would always be there. She used to hold Him so dear in her innocent heart.
How quickly things seemed to change.
Vera felt herself starting to cry. The vixen leaned forward to a kneeling position and crossed herself.
She prayed for the hope that she hadn’t been forsaken by the Lord.
She prayed for forgiveness for being so arrogant.
She prayed for strength to take on the responsibility of being the captain and leader for her team.
She prayed that she would continue to have the love of Leonard Mack.
That night, Vera slept hugging her extra pillow, wishing the big fox was there.
* * *
Sunday, February 3
The G. O. Moody House, Galveston, TX
The Minutemen were in complete control for three quarters the next game. Mack and Nwabudike controlled the paint, gathering up 25 rebounds between them. The two also teamed with Masalia to pace the scoring. Vera seemed more relaxed and in command, finding open passing lanes and getting the ball to her teammates for scores.
Galveston’s comeback was furious, but for the first time in a long time in this situation, Vera seemed calm. The team came out of the Minutemen timeout with the score 77-72; the Sand Dollars were on a 21-5 run. Sasha Ivanovich (lynx, PF, GAL) and Sarah Lancaster (cheetah, SG, GAL) were pacing the team on the offensive and defensive sides, with Sarah scoring 13 of those points during the run.
When Nick fouled out with three minutes to go, Teo patted him on the arm as he went to the bench.
“Vera’s got this, amigo,” he said. Nick nodded and sat on the bench as Eric Logan (elephant, C, WIL) came back into the game for him.
“I know she does,” he said as he watched her go over to Eric. He noted that she briefly talked to him and he nodded and she patted him on the arm before she left to her position.
The rest of the game was a tit-for-tat. When Georgette Hawyer (fennec fox, PG, GAL) made a basket, Logan made another. When Ivanovich corralled a Masalia miss, boxing out Mack, the big fox did the same with one from Bobby-Rae Brine (stingray, SF, GAL) on the other end, outmuscling the lynx for position.
The final seconds had the Minutemen frantically passing the ball around, not letting Galveston foul them to get to the free throw line. Mack drained a set shot from the left with 2.5 seconds to go for his 19th and 20th points and the Sand Dollars opted to just dribble, ending the game.
The Minutemen players talked excitedly as they gathered to listen to their coach in the locker room. Roosevelt came out of the offices and grinned. “That is exactly what I want to see. Working together, being efficient and bending but not breaking when your opponent has that inevitable run,” he praised. The raccoon then looked at Vera, seated at the front of the group, and put a paw on her shoulder.
“Vera, I’ve never been more proud of your performance than the way you played tonight,” he said. Vera smiled back, a little emotion welling inside of her.
“Aw, gracias, Morgan...” she said, a few tears trickling down her cheeks.
“Are you crying?” Morgan asked good-naturedly. Vera sniffled a little and rubbed her eyes.
“There, see? You’re becoming more like Jake already,” Will Handon (Black Panther, F/C, WIL) piped up. Laughter and applause rippled through the players, and Morgan chuckled.
“That’s the kind of veteran knowledge that only Black Magic can provide,” he jabbed. More laughter came from the group, especially Will and Vera.
La Tiérra never really had a father, and for one brief moment, she felt as if Coach Roosevelt acted like one. A proud father, happy that his daughter had succeeded.
Vera understood the responsibilities that night. There would be other nights where she would struggle with the burden once again. However, she understood perfectly what Jake was trying to tell her.
Basketball is not about her.
FBA, Leonard Mack, Eleanor Rigby ©
BuckHopper
Vera La Tiérra ©
JTigerclaw
Jake Masters, Morgan Roosevelt ©
Sam Gwosdz
Will Handon, Eleanor Rigby ©
GlenSkunk
Patriot Stadium Practice Gym, Williamsburg, VA
"You sure you'll be all right, Vera?" Leonard Mack (fox, PF, WIL) asked. Vera La Tiérra (red vixen, PG, WIL) nodded, propping a basketball between her right hip and arm. She tried to reassure him with a smile.
"Sí, Lennie, I'll be fine... I promise you," she said.
"All right, Vera."
The black-haired fox leaned down and kissed her.
"I love you."
"Te amo también, zorro guapo."
Mack left the gymnasium, leaving the vixen alone. La Tiérra walked around, dribbling the rock on the hardwood. The sound of the bounces reverberated throughout the room.
Vera took the ball in her paws, looked up at the nearby hoop and net, and gingerly shot the ball.
Swish.
She sighed and left the basketball to bounce and settle on the court. The vixen took a seat on one of the cushy bench chairs and stared up at the rafters directly above her, her tail lightly twitching back and forth. The buzz of the lights was the only sound she heard.
Aside from the various memories in her head.
"Vera, you're our captain and we support you, no matter what," Teo Masalia said.
"Does Vera La Tiérra deserve to be captain of the Minutemen?" asked Stuart Spot (dalmatian) of FSPN.
"You suck, you overpaid slinger! Go back to Puerto Rico where you belong!" yelled some fan she never saw in Baltimore.
"The only way Vera can make anything better now is if she gives her salary to charity. The way she's playing, she doesn't deserve a penny," opined FSPN analyst Chip Rivermore (chipmunk), in concordence with Spot.
"Vera, don't listen to any of them. It shouldn't matter what they say," Leonard said.
She groaned and leaned forward, putting her head in her paws, trying not to sob. She was so confused.
"Vera?" asked a voice behind her.
The vixen looked up behind her, thankful that she wasn't crying. Looking back at her was a familiar orange tabby cat. The cat, just a little taller than her, was showing his age with his fading orange fur. He was dressed in khaki pants, brown shoes and a navy polo shirt with the Minutemen musket logo on the left breast.
Jake Masters (orange tabby cat, retired), looked down at Vera, his brown eyes showing concern.
"Is everything all right?" he asked. La Tiérra stood up and instinctively brushed aside her hair, trying to straighten it out a little bit.
"Sí, sí, Jake. Everything's fine," she said. That was obviously a lie, and the vixen felt quite cornered. Masters folded his arms across his chest.
"Are you sure?" he prodded.
The vixen frowned, then started to walk briskly to the locker rooms.
"Vera! Vera, wait!" Jake implored, jogging over to her. He quickly tried to grab her shoulder to stop her.
The vixen growled as she whipped around and swiped her paw at the older cat's arm.
"¡Sólo déjame en paz!" she hissed.
Masters looked at the vixen, anger in her eyes and a scowl on her face. But the scowl and rage faded after a few moments, as Jake watched her flatten her ears a little in shame.
"I just want to talk to you, Vera."
"Entrenador Roosevelt le envió, ¿verdad?" she asked quietly. Jake shook his head, understanding easily.
"It doesn't matter whether Morgan sent me or not. Please, just come with me to the A/V room. I want to show you something."
Vera sighed and followed Jake to the audio-video rooms. He had a few DVDs taken out from the team's collection and he held up a freshly-labelled case, imprinted with the Minutemen musket logo and Pittsburgh's black keystone logo. The label read: "WIL @ PIT, 1/31/2013". Their last game.
"Would you watch this with me for a little while?" he asked. The vixen let out an exasperated sigh and nodded. "Of course I will, Jake," she replied. It's not like she had a choice.
The cat inserted the video disc and the two watched the game, duplicated from Williamsburg’s regional TV network.
La Tiérra was intently watching the action, the Minutemen dressed in their red road uniforms while Pittsburgh donned their home whites. Jake knew she was going over every play in her head, observing what she saw.
She watched as Teo Masalia (black panther, SG, WIL) drained a trey from the top of the key. Dorian Black (black cat, SF, PIT) made a great inside pass to Kamakani Iona (red panda, PF, PIT) for the easy lay-in. Randy Catcher (bullfrog, PG, PIT) was controlling the boards out of the guard position, hopping up strongly to grab rebounds with his webbed hands.
Jake let her watch the game in silence until about the middle of the second quarter, when Nick Nwabudike (elephant, C, WIL) grabbed a miss by Vera with his long trunk and stuffed it back into the hoop.
"What do you see?" Jake finally asked. Vera's answer was immediate:
"I see myself missing a lot of shots and I couldn't stop Randy Catcher from getting a triple-double," she said.
"That's all you remember? Truly?"
Vera nodded curtly.
The cat nodded back and forwarded to the fourth quarter.
"You don't remember this?"
It was the middle of the fourth, with the Minutemen up by five points. For all Randy was doing, for all his shots and precise passes, including three crowd-pleasing alley-oops to Alan Murphy (kangaroo, SF, PIT), the Minutemen were able to stay one step ahead of them.
Vera took the ball down the court, Catcher coming out to defend against her. She didn't turn her back to him, but instead immediately cut once she saw Ain Iannizzi (cougar, SF, WIL) screening Murphy. She looked to the hoop, but then passed off to the left. Masalia was waiting there to accept the pass behind the arc, smoothly draining the three-pointer.
Minutemen coach Morgan Roosevelt (raccoon, HC, WIL) clapped his paws and ran down the sideline, yelling a scheme. Keystones coach Omar Randal (raccoon, HC, PIT) had his arms crossed, barking out orders himself.
Catcher dribbled the ball and La Tiérra went back to defend him. He dumped the ball off to Murphy, who in turn shuffled the ball to Crystal Davis (Cheetah, SG, PIT). The young cheetah cut past Nwabudike and quickly banked the ball off the glass and through the hoop. Masalia took the inbound pass and passed off to Vera as Pittsburgh went back to defend. She immediately drove then saw her opening as she moved behind Iona.
She saw Leonard. The vixen whipped the ball out to the big fox and he let fly with a high, arcing shot from behind the line. The ball found its mark, thunking into the hoop. Randal quickly called a timeout to attempt to stop the momentum.
Mack high-fived Vera and the two went back to the sideline together, their tails subtly brushing together, smiles on both their faces.
The vixen looked like she was watching that for the first time.
"You look happy there."
"I... yes, I was, but..."
"But you don't want to focus on that."
Vera growled. "I do, Jake! I was very happy for Leonard!"
"I don't doubt that."
He stood up and put his paws on her shoulders.
"But, Vera, it takes more than scoring to be the captain of a team. Do you know who Rick Walton is?"
The vixen nodded. "I do."
Jake sat back down. "He was the first captain of the Minutemen," he reminded her. "Red held the title for four years. Despite his issues with his knees, he gave everything he had. He was a great inspiration to everybody, even if we didn't win or get into the playoffs."
"Mmmm."
"In '87, Red said that was going to be his last season. People wondered for months whom he was going to pick as captain. Coach Roosevelt told us players that we decide whom is the captain of the team from the beginning.
"In April, he took me aside one practice and told me that he was going to pick me to inherit the title. 'Jake, you're the guy to lead this team. You have the emotion, the intensity to do it,' he said. Then the playoffs happened, and I cried after we lost to Hamilton.
"When it was revealed that I was named captain, the reaction was almost immediate: 'How in the world can that bawling kitten be captain?! He doesn't have the guts to do it. Wusses can't be captains!'
"You wouldn't believe how much I struggled inwardly in 1988, much like you are now. I know how much you're holding inside, Vera."
Vera stayed silent when she heard that.
Jake shook his head. "I called Rick one day in tears. I told him I didn't think I could lead. He told me to calm down, and then he said something I'll never forget: 'I wanted you to be captain, Jake, because you understand basketball is not about you.'
"It took me a little while to fully understand what he meant. I hope it takes you less time, Vera," Jake said with a knowing smile. He stopped the DVD and removed it from the player, putting it back in its case.
Vera stood up and brushed aside her hair, briefly taking in what he had told her. "Thanks for talking with me, Jake, I think I feel a little better now," she said.
"That's good. I have confidence in you, Vera. Everyone in this organization does."
"I know. I'll see joo tomorrow for the flight to Galveston."
"Have a good night, Vera."
The vixen left the office, changed in the locker room and left, her gym bag slung over her shoulder. Vera took out her oPhone and pressed a few buttons, putting the phone to her ear.
"... Hello, Eleanor. Would you be up to a bit of midnight basketball tonight?... great, let's go to the park near my house. It'll be good there."
* * *
Saturday, February 2
12:30 A.M., McDermott Park Basketball Courts
The court lights illuminated the asphalt court as Eleanor Rigby (Deer, PG, WIL) posted up against a shirtless lynx, who was wearing a red bandana and jeans. Shirts vs. furs. He tried reaching around here and she passed off the ball to a cutting Vera, who lost her bald eagle opponent. The vixen took the ball in both her paws and leaped, a crescendo of cheers from small group of furs. She got the ball above the hoop and jammed it home.
“WHOOOOOOOOOOAAAAA!!!” whooped most of the crowd. Vera grinned as she accepted high fives from the various furs in the group for the dunk, including her young opponents.
“You’re still awesome, Vera!”
“You gotta try that move in a game!”
“Come on, just try it again!” said the lynx, grinning. “Bet you can’t do it a second time, Vera!”
“Jou’re on!”
The vixen and doe spent another hour or so driving to the hoop, taking smooth shots, and an occasional jam. It was a joy to put on such an intimate show for the fans, and the two ladies signed several autographs afterwards.
* * *
Eleanor walked beside Vera at a leisurely pace as the teen and young adult furs continued to shoot hoops into the night. The doe finally spoke up when they reached Vera’s street.
“So that was fun,” she said. Vera nodded. “It was very fun, si. Nice to see so many passionate chicos about basketball.”
Eleanor nodded. “Totally. How did you fare, like, finding yourself in the gym?” she asked.
La Tiérra frowned at the question. “I might have gotten an answer, but I’m not truly sure,” she admitted, leaving out the specifics, thinking Rigby didn’t need to fully know what happened. The doe nodded.
“You could try, like, searching inside. Most of the answers we need are within us,” she said. Vera shook her head slowly.
“Eleanor, I... dun think that’s for me,” she said lightly. The vixen was definitely not into New Age meditation and the like. It worked for Eleanor, but, no, not her.
“How about prayer?” Rigby asked, looking at her friend. Vera was silent for a moment.
“Well... I haven’t in such a long time...”
“Doesn’t hurt to try. That could be, like, where you find your answers,” Eleanor said supportingly.
The two reached the vixen’s house and Vera wished Eleanor good night, thanking her for coming. Watching the doe drive away, Vera then went inside her home.
* * *
After showering, dressing in her red nightgown and brushing her teeth, Vera entered her bedroom. Walking in the dimly lit area, she headed idly to the far wall, turned and slumped against it, sinking to the floor.
She used to really believe. Raised Roman Catholic, she was taught she’d never be forsaken, that God would always be there. She used to hold Him so dear in her innocent heart.
How quickly things seemed to change.
Vera felt herself starting to cry. The vixen leaned forward to a kneeling position and crossed herself.
She prayed for the hope that she hadn’t been forsaken by the Lord.
She prayed for forgiveness for being so arrogant.
She prayed for strength to take on the responsibility of being the captain and leader for her team.
She prayed that she would continue to have the love of Leonard Mack.
That night, Vera slept hugging her extra pillow, wishing the big fox was there.
* * *
Sunday, February 3
The G. O. Moody House, Galveston, TX
The Minutemen were in complete control for three quarters the next game. Mack and Nwabudike controlled the paint, gathering up 25 rebounds between them. The two also teamed with Masalia to pace the scoring. Vera seemed more relaxed and in command, finding open passing lanes and getting the ball to her teammates for scores.
Galveston’s comeback was furious, but for the first time in a long time in this situation, Vera seemed calm. The team came out of the Minutemen timeout with the score 77-72; the Sand Dollars were on a 21-5 run. Sasha Ivanovich (lynx, PF, GAL) and Sarah Lancaster (cheetah, SG, GAL) were pacing the team on the offensive and defensive sides, with Sarah scoring 13 of those points during the run.
When Nick fouled out with three minutes to go, Teo patted him on the arm as he went to the bench.
“Vera’s got this, amigo,” he said. Nick nodded and sat on the bench as Eric Logan (elephant, C, WIL) came back into the game for him.
“I know she does,” he said as he watched her go over to Eric. He noted that she briefly talked to him and he nodded and she patted him on the arm before she left to her position.
The rest of the game was a tit-for-tat. When Georgette Hawyer (fennec fox, PG, GAL) made a basket, Logan made another. When Ivanovich corralled a Masalia miss, boxing out Mack, the big fox did the same with one from Bobby-Rae Brine (stingray, SF, GAL) on the other end, outmuscling the lynx for position.
The final seconds had the Minutemen frantically passing the ball around, not letting Galveston foul them to get to the free throw line. Mack drained a set shot from the left with 2.5 seconds to go for his 19th and 20th points and the Sand Dollars opted to just dribble, ending the game.
The Minutemen players talked excitedly as they gathered to listen to their coach in the locker room. Roosevelt came out of the offices and grinned. “That is exactly what I want to see. Working together, being efficient and bending but not breaking when your opponent has that inevitable run,” he praised. The raccoon then looked at Vera, seated at the front of the group, and put a paw on her shoulder.
“Vera, I’ve never been more proud of your performance than the way you played tonight,” he said. Vera smiled back, a little emotion welling inside of her.
“Aw, gracias, Morgan...” she said, a few tears trickling down her cheeks.
“Are you crying?” Morgan asked good-naturedly. Vera sniffled a little and rubbed her eyes.
“There, see? You’re becoming more like Jake already,” Will Handon (Black Panther, F/C, WIL) piped up. Laughter and applause rippled through the players, and Morgan chuckled.
“That’s the kind of veteran knowledge that only Black Magic can provide,” he jabbed. More laughter came from the group, especially Will and Vera.
La Tiérra never really had a father, and for one brief moment, she felt as if Coach Roosevelt acted like one. A proud father, happy that his daughter had succeeded.
Vera understood the responsibilities that night. There would be other nights where she would struggle with the burden once again. However, she understood perfectly what Jake was trying to tell her.
Basketball is not about her.
FBA, Leonard Mack, Eleanor Rigby ©
BuckHopperVera La Tiérra ©
JTigerclawJake Masters, Morgan Roosevelt ©
Sam GwosdzWill Handon, Eleanor Rigby ©
GlenSkunk
Category Story / Miscellaneous
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 428 x 515px
File Size 44.2 kB
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