Page 47 of One on One
Ben is not inspiring this reaction. Being close to any reasonably attractive man would do it. Lufton isn’t terrible-looking, so he could probably get my pulse racing right now.
Okay, definitely not. But only because that’s a bad example.
The players board the bus single file. “What do you think that’s about?” I ask, turning to look at Ben.
He’s closer than I realized, even. His lips are parted slightly. “I don’t know,” he says in a quiet, hypnotizing voice.
Eric sits down in front of me, snapping me out of my daze. I lean forward and tap him on the shoulder. “Why are they all in good moods?” I whisper.
He tilts his head to whisper back. “I’m not sure. JGEkicked all the coaches out of the locker room before they came out. The players were in there for twenty minutes. I’m guessing he gave them a pep talk.”
Jamar Gregg-Edwards plays a background role on the court, but he’s not striving for a career in professional basketball. He might be the smartest person I’ve ever met. Engineering major, president of the Black Student Union. Next year he’s off to England for a prestigious fellowship to study water treatment. He’s this team’s rock.
When we get back to campus, I set up a meeting with Keith Wesley for later in the week. He’s gracious and open and spends an hour in front of the camera, talking about adversity and self-doubt and his baby granddaughter.
I begin the video with a soundbite from a twentieth-century philosopher, because nothing sends the message that something serious is coming quite like the authoritative voice of an old British man. “There is no chemical element on this planet as sturdy as the mettle of mankind,” he says, over the clip of Keith Wesley’s missed shot.
Then I show Keith Wesley now, grayer and softer, thumbing through yellowed newspaper clippings, running his hands over old trophies, and studying the “Ardwyn Basketball: 1987 Sweet Sixteen” banner hanging in the arena lobby.
“I failed in the most significant moment of my basketball career,” he says. “We lost the biggest game I’d ever played in. Do I wish we won? Of course. I’m an athlete. But I learned a lot from that game, and I’m grateful for that. I learned how supportive my teammates and friends and family were. I learned that life went on, and so did basketball, and so could I.”
I try to get Quincy to tell me about JGE’s speech in thelocker room, hoping to work some of the themes into the video, but despite my wheedling, he refuses to say a word. No one knows what he said, and the players seem to have sworn themselves to secrecy. Regardless, whatever JGE said, it works. We win the next three games, even without Quincy playing. And then we win the next four after he returns.
The fans can feel the momentum shift. It’s obvious in the sellout crowds, in the comment section, in the follower counts. My video about losing gets more views than anything I’ve ever made. I wake up the morning after it’s posted to a text from Cassie, the earliest of early risers:LEBRON SHARED YOUR VIDEO!!!
“What do we do, after?” Keith Wesley says as the video ends on a shot of the players walking into the practice gym for an early workout while the sun rises over the building. “We show up.”
“Let’s run Tigerand then we’re done,” Coach Thomas calls out at practice, hands cupped around his mouth.
Gallimore swings around to look at him. “Already?”
“We’re wrapping up early today. Everyone needs a break.” What he means is: It’s Valentine’s Day. And on this one night, everyone with a partner needs to shower that person with love, affection, and assistance with household chores to compensate for the fact that they’ll be almost completely absent for the next four to seven weeks until the season is over.
Before I head back upstairs, Coach Williams flags me down.
“My son showed me Instagram last night,” he says, theunpracticed syllables of the wordInstagramcoming out of his mouth stilted, his dark eyes boring into me. “He said Jalen Austin left a comment on one of our videos.” Jalen Austin is a junior in high school, one of the top shooting guard prospects in the country.
I saw the comment too. “Beast mode, fire emoji,” I say, the corners of my mouth twitching as I fight to keep a straight face.
“Beast mode, fire emoji,” he repeats, with gravity. He nods, I nod back. It’s the closest he’s ever going to get to saying he was wrong about me. I won. Pride bursts inside me like a champagne spray. I don’t need his approval, but it still feels good.
Back in the office, the sounds of everything shutting down start before it’s even dark outside: the chorus of goodbyes, the flick of light switches, the loud metallicclickof the stairwell door.
Donna pauses in the hallway on her way out, hand on hip. “Plans tonight, Ben?”
“Nah,” Ben says. “Plenty to do here.”
“I’m not saying you need a girlfriend, but at minimum you need a life.”
I laugh to myself, and Donna whirls around. “I assume you have something exciting going on this evening?”
“I do.”
“Really?” She sounds skeptical.
“My dad’s old assistants are in town to see a big high school game. We’re meeting for dinner after.” I’ve been checking the clock, leg bouncing with anticipation. Paul and Big Ed are like uncles to me. When they told me they’d be inthe area, I jumped at the chance to see them. The game should be over around the time I finish work for the night, so they’re going to pick me up straight from campus.
Donna taps a long nail on her chin. “Cute, but that doesn’t count.”
