He’s there again, to the stripe, with everything on the line, just not to him.

The most difficult shot in this sport is a shot anyone can make, from a short distance, with no defense pressuring the shot; the pressure is only coming from you. Two free throws that can decide a legacy, and will decide this game.

But to tell this story to make sense, I must go back to pregame, or even to the moment I met Jack. Jack Price, the smoothest kid on the block. We’ve been friends since the day we ran into each other on the playground at the age of six. Now, twelve years later, we are best friends, I guess if that doesn’t sound weird. Senior year of high school, which means the last year of basketball for both of us. Jack could have probably found some college to give him a scholarship, but that’s not what he wants, so he didn’t go look. I, on the other hand, would love to keep playing. But, unfortunately, I can’t get an offer from anywhere I look.
Even with these dilemmas, both of us were really psyched for this season. We wouldn’t be the most talented, but we weren’t the worst by any standard. Our hope is to make the state tourney, and once you get in, anything goes, anything can happen. We wanted to see how far we could go together, not just for ourselves, but we owe it to each other to see if we could make a last run, a final stand. With him at the four and me at the point, we would think we could make a splash. This season is why we survived school this. We have managed math, endured English, finished French, and everything else just to see this season. I mean, I have, at least.
Jack has had some GFs, won some awards, and other stuff this year. Always finding a joke or something to say, he’s probably the “Mr. Popular” of this grade. Me, on the other hand, have been practicing and working on my game. I have been working like a beaver, and have perfected my shot. It has an unmatchable quick release, with the smooth as silk follow-through. I don’t know whether Jack has done some stuff, but he must have. It’s our last season.
Our promise for this season was made freshman year. The team that year was the best in school history. We made it to the final four, then on to the championship. Jack made varsity that year, but barely played. I got to play JV, but moved up to be a part of the playoff run. We both witnessed the final game, where Brian Norwood, our best player, the state’s best player, played his final game. Twenty-seven points, fifteen assists, and twelve boards later, he fouled out. He did give us a two-point lead, which was immediately erased with a corner three from the other team’s best player, now seemingly unguarded without the strong defense from Brian. Then, only the unthinkable happened.
The ball was inbounded by the point guard, Tony Vickersin, who dribbled up and was fouled by an opposing player. Apparently, he thought they were still down, so it was a giant blunder on their part. Tony went to the line. The foul trouble gave us the double bonus. He went to the line to take two. Tony was our second-best shooter, and his work ethic was second-to-none. Starting out as a JV benchwarmer, he took nothing for granted and transformed himself into an exceptional player. None of that, those hours of work, could prepare him for this moment.
Tony inched to the line. The look on his face was filled with determination, but that first free throw told the opposite. Bang, off the backboard, he didn’t even get rim. By that point, all seemed lost for us. The second one from the charity stripe did not live up to its name. Rim, backboard, rim, rim, and out. Defeat secured the rebound, and with that, the championship. From that day forward, Jack and I promised that we would be ready for anything, that nothing would be too big for either of us. We’ve had this promise for a while, and it’s a mutual thing, we never talk about it.
Sophomore year was a struggle for just about everyone but Jack. As the team struggled with the loss of Brian and three other graduated seniors, Jack really came into his own. Nevertheless, we finished the season on a five-game losing streak. This gave us a lowly 5-15 record.
While junior year was not much better, we could see how senior year was going to be better. Jack and I worked hard together and both of us go astronomically better. We also got help from sophomore Chris Beret, the three-point shooter who could drain from anywhere on the court. Even with an 8-12 record, we knew we had a shot this year.
This summer, though, Jack didn’t want to practice as much. Whenever I asked, he always had something to do. A party here, a date there, he seemed to never have time. But I know Jack, and I know that he found time to work on his game. At tryouts, he didn’t look up to standard, even with the work I know he put in. It took another two weeks, but eventually he got back into form.
The season started out rough, with a couple blowout losses and a couple close ones. Through it all, we started 3-5. We made a stretch for the rest of the season, with me leading the team for the most part. It seemed kind of odd, since Jack always seized control. Maybe he knew he needed everyone else playing well for us to win. It was still strange, because he was only scoring about seven points per game, which is down more than double last season.
With a team clicking on all cylinders (except for a couple minor arguments with coach and Jack questioning his “dedication”), we put ourselves into a position to make the state tournament. We only needed one win in our last game. This was a big moment, and I can see Jack having a game to remember here. It was against the best team in the league, but, surely, we can succeed. We aren’t afraid of everything.
Before the game, I was talking to Jack, and he didn’t seem too sure about that.
“Do we even have a chance?”
“Yea, why not?” I said. “We said freshman year that we were ready for this.”
“O yea. I don’t know, man. They have a good team.”
“We were destined for this.”
“Either way, we had a pretty good season.”
That was an awkward response, but whatever.
The game starts, and it was back and forth the whole game. We were behind in the fourth quarter, but then I hit a three to give us a one-point lead. With a stop on the defensive side, we were in a great position to win. That didn’t happen. A defensive breakdown caused an easy two with one possession remaining. We gave Jack the ball. He was fouled. They fouled Jack. The game was in the bag. He was going to the line to take two. One will tie, and two will win.
What happened next was indescribable: an air ball. But he looked so nonchalant out there, he seemed poised to go and knock it down. At least he’ll make the second one.
The second free throw went up and looked on the money. But it was too strong. Back rimmed it. He missed. The game is over. We lost, with no state championship.
I found this absolutely demoralizing. We came so close, and to lose like that, it was terrible. Hoping to comfort Jack after the debacle, I looked around for him. I can only imagine how he feels, missing the tying shot. I looked all over for him. I found him with his friends, not a care in the world. How is he acting this way? I approached him, and said, “Dude, we came so close. We almost had a Cinderella season. Aren’t you mad?”
“Yea, sure. See ya tomorrow.”