Twenty-two hours and sixteen minutes later …
“Let’s talk about the zone defense,” Coach Acevedo said at Friday’s practice, once Clifton United huddled up and after Red sank his beginning-of-practice foul shot. “How do we beat it?”
Red’s hand shot up. Coach Acevedo chin-nodded to him.
“To beat a zone defense, players on offense should stretch the defense,” Red said. “Players on offense should perform shot fakes and pass fakes. Shot fakes and pass fakes lead to opportunities.”
Coach Acevedo twirled his whistle. “Looks like someone did his homework.”
“Oh, yeah, Coach Acevedo,” Red said.
That big tournament packet Coach Acevedo had sent out on Monday included a section on attacking the zone.
“Players on offense should keep proper spacing,” Red went on. “Proper spacing spreads the defense and forces the defense to cover a lot of ground. Proper spacing leads to opportunities.”
“He makes his free throws and comes prepared.” Coach Acevedo snatched his whistle. “Let’s give this a whirl. Ladies, the five of you are on offense.”
Maya clapped her hands like cymbals. “Let’s show them how it’s done.”
“Speedy, you’re running the point,” Coach Acevedo said. “Go set your team.” He spun to me. “Rip, you’re leading the defense. Set up in a two-three zone.”
“Who’s in?” I asked.
“Your call.”
“Elbows, Mehdi.” I waved them over. “Red, Diego. Let’s do this.”
We huddled near midcourt.
“Could you have picked a smaller five?” Diego asked.
“I like small ball.” I bumped Diego’s shoulder. “You play down low in the middle since you’re our biggest player.”
“Diego Vasquez isn’t our biggest player,” Red said.
I reached to ruffle his hair, but Red ducked away.
“You’re too slow, Mason Irving,” he said, smiling and pointing.
Up until this year, I would never have tried ruffling Red’s hair. He would’ve freaked. But now he’s fine with it. He ruffles my hair, too.
“Time to show Coach Acevedo we’re committed to excellence,” I said. “Time to do a little dazzling.”
“Let’s show them this small-ball five gives Clifton United the best chance at winning.” Diego gave everyone double pounds. “We will rise to the occasion, which is life.”
We all laughed.
As we set up in our zone, my basketball brain revved:
• Watch the shot fakes. Watch the pass fakes.
• Don’t bite when they try to spread the floor. Don’t chase the ball. Play your space.
• Watch Mimi and Zoe going high post to low post. No open shots in the paint.
• Don’t let Speedy penetrate. Don’t let her create openings.
• Box out.
Tweet! Tweet!
Our zone was airtight!
The girls couldn’t get us to chase the ball. They couldn’t get the ball into the paint. They didn’t score a single basket. They didn’t get a single offensive rebound.
Lockdown!
“Nicely done, defense,” Coach Acevedo said after five straight stops. “That’s what we want to see.”
Tweet! Tweet!
“Let’s switch it right up!” Coach Acevedo said. “Defense, you’re on offense. Let’s go.”
Our small-ball five huddled at the top of the key.
“We move the ball around quickly,” I said. “No one stands still.” I pointed to Red and Elbows. “One of you is getting the open shot in a short corner.”
Diego smacked the floor with both palms. “Let’s do this, offense,” he said. “Let’s show the girls how it’s really done.”
We whipped the ball around the perimeter and looked for gaps, but the girls’ zone was in perfect sync.
So it was time for a little dazzling.
Elbows passed to me on the wing. I looked inside for an open teammate or for a gap in the zone. Nothing. But instead of sending the ball to Hudson up top or back to Elbows in the corner, I fired an overhead skip pass across the court to Diego. He sent the ball to Red, wide open in the corner. Red squared to shoot, but his basketball eyes spotted Elbows sliding into the paint. Red fed him with a sweet pass. Elbows put up the shot.
Swish!
“Great look!” Diego pounded the floor with his fist. “That’s how it’s done.”
“It sure is,” Coach Acevedo said, clapping. “Way to make the extra pass, Red. Beautiful play, offense. Beautiful!”
“Boo-yah!” I hammer-fisted the air.
“Bam!” Red cheered.
* * *
“Let’s learn a couple of those out-of-bounds plays you sent me,” Coach Acevedo said later at practice. “Zoe, Rip, Red, Speedy, Maya—thanks for the suggestions. They were exactly what I was looking for.”
Coach had messaged us last night:
I’d emailed Coach Acevedo my play suggestion as soon as I got his note. I didn’t know Red had suggested one until right now.
“Speedy, we’re learning yours first.” Coach Acevedo tossed her the basketball.
“Sweet!” she said.
“We’re calling it Hawkeye.” He pointed the rest of us to the baseline. “Take it away. Teach your teammates.”
She ran the ball out to the foul line and power-dribbled once with both hands. “Hawkeye is an under-the-hoop out-of-bounds play,” she said. “When it works, you don’t just get the ball in, you score a basket.”
Speedy taught us the play. She ran to each spot on the floor and demonstrated the positioning and moves. Then she ran through the entire play by herself, showing us all the passes, shots, and options.
“Everyone got all that?” Coach Acevedo asked. “Good,” he said, before anyone could answer. “We’ll be running it shortly.” He called for the ball and trapped Speedy’s pass under his heel. “Our other out-of-bounds play is a sideline play. We’re calling this one Thor. Maya, you’re going to teach it to us.”
“This play is boss!” She banged her hands like cymbals. “It works every time.”
“But before you start,” Coach Acevedo said, “I have to acknowledge the most creative suggestion I received.” He fired a chest pass to Red. “If we ever need a desperation play at the end of a game, we’re running yours.”
“Thanks, Coach Acevedo.” Red squeezed the ball.
“You want to tell everyone a little about it?”
“Oh, yeah.” Red hopped from foot to foot. “The play is called Pacer. That’s what Valparaiso—”
“Valpa who?” Diego interrupted.
“Valparaiso University,” Red said. “On March 13, 1998, the Valparaiso University Crusaders won their first ever NCAA tournament game, defeating the University of Mississippi Rebels seventy to sixty-nine on a buzzer-beater three-point shot by Bryce Drew.”
“That’s the play you suggested?” Maya asked.
“That’s the play, Maya Wade.”
“Now that’s boss!”
“The Valparaiso University Crusaders were the number-thirteen seed in the 1998 NCAA tournament,” Red said, still hopping from foot to foot. “The University of Mississippi Rebels were the number-four seed in the 1998 NCAA tournament. The University of Mississippi Rebels were expected to advance to the second round, but—”
“I’m going to cut you off there, Red,” Coach Acevedo said. “You are going to teach us Pacer, just not right now. Definitely before we leave for the Showdown. And I’m putting you on notice. If and when the time comes we need a close-out play, you’re the man.”
“Thanks, Coach Acevedo.” Red hopped faster. “I’m your man.”
