Knowing that our firsts match against the Hoods would be the big finale, the organisers had switched the firsts and seconds around for the final round. The Ascot vs Scornly firsts game had finished and kids and adults crammed around the edges of our court, watching the final minutes of the game – the final minutes of the competition.

Mr T shouted for us to set up a zone defence. He didn’t want Rat isolated on the court. Wetherhood soaked up plenty of clock time bringing the ball down. We were inside two minutes now. A shot clock hadn’t been played all tournament. They could stay in possession for the rest of the game and win it.

‘Rat!’ I called. ‘We’ve got to do something.’

‘Full-court press!’ he cried. We raced out, each of us picking up a Hood player. They were now under pressure, but were still able to pass the ball around. The clock ticked on.

‘Draw the foul!’ Mr T called from the bench. I reached over Totem, the player I was marking, banging him on the arm. A whistle shrieked and the foul was called against me.

‘That’s seven team fouls!’ an official screamed over the noise of the crowd. I looked over at Mr T, who shook his head.

Totem lined up for his first throw. He looked across at Rat.

‘This one’s for you, traitor,’ he snarled.

‘You wish, loser,’ Fisk replied, with venom. They eyed each other. Totem threw the ball. It rimmed out. His next shot fell in. We were three points down.

24 – 21

Straight away, Chaz was fouled. Now it was our turn to go to the free-throw line. Chaz hit the first home, but missed the second.

24 – 22

There were 27 seconds left.

‘It’s got to be a clean steal!’ I shouted to the team. We hovered in front of our players looking for the opening. It came out of nowhere. Wetherhood had brought the ball down quickly, and Chaz had given their tall player a slight opening. He took the shot, but just as he let go of the ball, Fisk was up in front of him, slapping the ball away. It was a perfect intercept.

There was a scramble of arms and legs. Rat was on his hands and knees, scrapping for the loose ball. He hooked out a pass. I ran onto it, dribbled down court for a few metres, then spun into a 360-degree turn to get around the Hood player in front of me. I drove the ball in hard, suddenly realising as I started my drive to the basket that two points weren’t going to be enough.

Swivelling in mid-air, I managed to drag two Hoods players with me. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Rat hovering out on the three-point line beyond the top of the key. I hurled the ball at him as I crashed to the floor. Rat took one look at the hoop and snapped the ball out in a huge arc. The crowd was counting down the final seconds of the game.

On the count of three, the ball swished through the net. I caught it while still lying flat out. A Hood wrenched the ball out of my hand, but the buzzer went before he had time to get behind the back line to throw it into play. I lay still a moment longer. If I never played another game of basketball in my life, I wouldn’t mind, I thought to myself.

But our joy didn’t last long. We went back into a huddle. Mr T shouted instructions at us.

Mrs Cartwright still hadn’t appeared, I noticed.

Jack, Bubba, Luci and Becky were all trying to get my attention, but I was focused on Mr. T.

‘People, we’ve won a battle here, but we haven’t won the war,’ he said. ‘The officials have added up the scores across the four comps today, and it seems that Wetherhood and Sandhurst have tied.’ A few of us groaned.

‘There are two more things we have to do,’ he said. ‘This is how it’s going to be decided. Three from the first boys’ and three from the first girls’ teams will take a two-point throw from the foul line, and a three-point shot from anywhere you like outside the three-point line. Travis, Mitchell and Mia, put your heads together and work out who our shooters will be. I’ll decide who throws first.’

‘Mr T?’ Fisk asked. ‘What happened to Mrs Cartwright?’

‘No idea, Travis,’ he answered. ‘Come on now, minds on the job. It’s not over yet.’ We lined up for our throws. Mia, Cara and Luci would be joining Travis, Rat and I for the throws. Each team would take all their two-point shots, then watch the other team. It would be the same again for the three-point shots.

The Hoods won the toss and shot first.

All six of their players made the two-point throws. Rat, Mia and Cara made the two-point throws for us, which gave us only six points.

12 – 6.

Once again, we were in trouble – six points down going into the three-point round. The crowd was hushed. Even the Wetherhood fans were quiet as the players took their shots. No one had left the stadium. Ascot and Scornly people watched, too. The spectators edged the court as they watched the drama unfold.

As the first three-point shot for Wetherhood went in, the tension began to lift. I think most people believed that it would be impossible for Sandhurst to catch up.

The next three shots didn’t go as well. Totem nailed his three-pointer but the last attempt lipped out.

18 – 6

Rat took the first throw for us, but amazingly it caught between the backboard and the side of the ring and fell away to the left. Mia took her shot, and the ball dropped in. Cheers erupted from everywhere. Luci went next, but her shot missed. Then Cara made her throw to put us only six points behind – again.

The whole place hummed. Two shots to go, and two three-pointers would see us back in the contest. Next was Fisk. He took a few deep breaths, waited for the crowd to quieten, then fired the ball hard at the hoop. The ball hit the front edge of the ring, bobbed up, then dropped down through the hole. The ref passed me the ball. I bounced it hard into the floor, waiting for the noise of the crowd to hush.

I had to make it just for us to stay in the comp. And then what? Do it all over again? I walked towards the sideline, still bouncing the ball. I stepped up to the edge of the line, set my feet, locked my eyes on the target and let go. It felt good from the outset. I heard that lovely swishing sound as the ball caught the net.

18 – 18.