It was about a half-hour’s drive from Claremont to Oakdale. Lucas had heard his mom talking to Gramps on her phone after breakfast, telling him that they could all drive together.
But then he heard her say, “Are you sure? We’d love to have the company.”
Lucas heard her inviting him to dinner, then heard a slight pause.
“Okay,” she said. “But if you change your mind, you know it’s no problem for me to set an extra place.”
When Lucas walked into the kitchen she said, “I guess you heard?”
“I did.”
She shook her head. “The new normal.”
“It must be the normal he wants,” Lucas said.
“I don’t think any of us wants this,” she said.
The game against the Owls was a lot like their first game of the season: They dug a big hole for themselves early. They were playing solid defense, but not solid enough, as it turned out. The Owls just couldn’t miss. Most of the scoring damage was being done by their two guards, Gary Cullen and Len Shenfeld. They were both big, they could both shoot, they could both handle the ball. If you were just watching the game from the stands in the Oakdale Y, you would have had a hard time deciding which one was the point guard and which one was the shooting guard. It made Lucas remember something else Gramps liked to talk about when he got into his way-back machine:
They were both just guards. Not point guards. Not shooting guards.
Just guards.
During every time-out in the first half, as the Wolves couldn’t dent the Owls’ fourteen-point lead, Gramps would say the same thing:
“We’re fine.”
Lucas didn’t think they were. Their zone press hadn’t worked this time. Gary Cullen and Len Shenfeld were just too good with the ball. Even when the Wolves would have one of them trapped in the backcourt, they would find a way to make a pass over the top of the defense, and the Owls would end up with another easy basket.
They were the ones playing basketball the right way today.
A lot righter than us, Lucas thought.
Their lead was still twelve halfway through the third quarter. The Wolves were shooting a little better by then, the Owls shooting a little worse. But Lucas knew that if something didn’t change, and soon, the Wolves were about to lose their first game of the season.
Maybe it was just one of those days. Maybe the other team was just better today, no matter how much the Wolves tried to change things up.
Only Lucas just wasn’t ready to concede that.
At the end of a time-out the Owls had called, Lucas said to Gramps, “We should try what we worked on in practice the other night.”
“We worked on a lot of things,” Gramps said.
The other Wolves players in the game were already walking back on the court. It was just Lucas and Gramps. Talking basketball. Trying to figure it out.
For now, things were the way they used to be.
“How about we put Ryan in the backcourt?” Lucas said. “Let him bring the ball up. Make Len match up with him instead of trying to have Sharif and Neil match up with Len.”
Gramps nodded.
“Maybe I should have thought of that myself.”
“You did,” Lucas said.
“Think it will work?”
“All we’ve got to lose is the game,” Lucas said.
The ref blew his whistle.
“That’s a lot to lose,” Gramps said.
“I know,” Lucas said.
“Go make it happen.”
“I’ll try,” Lucas said.
“Everybody tries,” Gramps said.
Ryan took the ball from the ref, ready to inbound it to Lucas. Only Lucas took the ball, and quickly whispered the plan to his best friend.
“Trust me,” Lucas said.
“Always,” Ryan said.
“Let’s win the game,” Lucas said.
They didn’t run pick-and-rolls now. Instead the Wolves spread the court, giving Ryan plenty of room to operate. He wasn’t waiting for Lucas to throw him the ball now. He had the ball. First time down, he blew past the kid who had been guarding him, Juanell Robinson, for an easy layup. The Owls lead was ten. Gary missed an open shot. This time, as Ryan was bringing the ball up, Len switched over to guard him. Lucas took a step out on the wing, as if coming to the ball, but then stopped and broke for the basket. Ryan hit him with a pass. Lucas got a layup.
Now the lead was eight.
It hadn’t even taken a minute. But the Owls looked rattled now. Sometimes it didn’t take much. Ryan pressured Len as he brought the ball up, swallowing him up with all his length. Len got rid of the ball too quickly and Lucas was sitting on the crosscourt pass Len tried to throw to Gary. He picked it off cleanly, streaked down the court alone, laid the ball in.
Now it was 38–32, Owls.
Len missed now, forcing a shot. Billy got the rebound, snapped off an outlet pass to Ryan, who took the ball to the middle and led the fast break. Lucas was to his left. When Len came up on Ryan, trying to force him to pass, Ryan did pass, to Lucas, streaking again for the basket. He caught the pass in stride, confidently put the ball on the floor with his left hand—all the extra work he’d done with his left hand paying off—laid the ball off the backboard with his left hand, getting fouled by Gary in the process.
He went to the line. It wasn’t late in a game. It wasn’t the last minute. But he felt as if this was the first big free throw of the season for him, a chance to make it a one-possession game if the Wolves could get another stop and make a three-pointer.
Lucas went through his routine. Took a deep breath. Even visualized the ball going through the basket the way Gramps had taught him. Made the free throw.
They were down three.
Same two teams on the court. But it was a different game.
The Wolves and Owls were tied going into the fourth quarter. Gramps kept moving guys in and out. He gave Lucas a one-minute breather at the start of the fourth. He did the same with Ryan a minute after that, not wanting to have both of them out of the game at the same time, even for a few seconds.
With four minutes to go, it was the Wolves who were ahead by five points. They were the ones who couldn’t miss now. Lucas and Ryan were the ones handling the Owls’ press with ease.
Lucas remembered one time when Mike Breen, his favorite announcer in the NBA, said that when momentum changed in a game, it was like trying to turn an ocean liner around. That’s what happened at the Oakdale YMCA in the second half.
Different backcourt for the Wolves, different game.
Only one thing hadn’t changed for the Wolves by the time the horn sounded:
They were still undefeated.