Chapter 55 Riggs
FIFTY-FIVE
RIGGS
Staying local for the second weekend of the tournament is far more enjoyable than flying across the country.
We're already familiar with the new environment, having played in Charlotte just a few weeks ago, and we can bring a lot more fans to cheer us on.
Having my mom in the stands adds fuel to my fire.
We won our first game of the weekend easily, which was not expected. I don’t know if I have ever felt so in sync with teammates before. Blowing out Kansas City by thirty points was a statement that CTU is here and ready to contend for a title.
Saying that, we have a tough opponent for the second game.
A game that, if we win, sends us to Miami for the Final Four.
Internally, I may be anxious and ready to projectile vomit, but on the outside, I look cool and collected.
Dad always said not to let them see you sweat.
Basketball is just as much a mental game as it is a physical one.
If you are tough that way, no one can get in your head and mess with your game.
Losing him affected how I played for a while, but working through my grief has allowed me greater control.
It’s about thirty minutes before tip-off, and we just came out of the tunnel to start our warm-ups.
Coach keeps it simple, and the routine always helps me stay laser-focused on the next forty minutes of basketball.
I know that the next loss will be my last college game, and I desperately want to go out on top.
As time ticks away, the excitement and anticipation grow inside me and throughout the arena.
I look at my best friends, my teammates, and we are all in the zone.
I’m ready to run through a brick wall as they announce the starters, and we head to midcourt for the tip.
Williams easily controls it, and I dribble the ball up our side of the court.
The game has been back and forth despite our team playing incredibly well. We have over half the crowd on our side since we are playing just a few hours from the CTU campus. However, that doesn’t seem to be affecting our opponent, Colorado.
At halftime, we’re down by two points, but we’re fired up and ready to take control in the second half. We come out of the locker room knowing the next twenty minutes determine the fate of our season.
Despite our fight, we’re down by five points with two minutes left.
Colorado calls a time-out, and I can see that Coach is more on edge than ever.
The officiating has been inconsistent at best and has been chiefly detrimental to our team.
Williams, Moore, and Carter all have four fouls and need to be careful.
If they get one more, they’ll have to sit out the rest of the game.
“One stop. Get one stop. Then make one shot. Can you do that for me?” Those words are on replay as I walk back on the court and find myself in my defensive position. Two minutes. We have plenty of time, and we all trust each other. We all believe we will win this game, and now it’s time to execute.
As our opponents bring the ball up toward their basket, we double-team the player dribbling it past the half-court line.
He is easily frazzled and tries to pass out of it, but I see it and throw my hand in the way.
The ball is in front of me, and I take off dribbling toward our hoop.
I see there are two defenders, one on each side, but I’m going for it.
I push myself to the limit as I drive and push the ball in the basket for a layup.
As I do, I am hit from both sides and go down hard, landing right on my back.
I know I’ll feel that in the morning for sure.
I hear the whistle, and the stands go insane because the basket counts as a foul.
If I make this free throw, we take the lead from five down to two.
The free throw falls through the net, and the other team calls their final time-out.
Jordan smacks me on the back as we walk toward our bench to huddle up. “Riggs, that was it. We got this, man. We’re gonna get the stop. Find me for the three. I can feel it in my bones, I’m gonna hit this shot.” It sends a chill through me because I can picture it now.
“Alright, y’all.” Jordan takes over and tells our teammates exactly what he just said to me. Uncle Jake has a grin on his face, knowing that Jordan's exercising his leadership will fuel the team to victory. We have less than a minute left and no time-outs.
As we defend down to the end of the other team’s shot clock, they throw up a last-minute jump shot that falls off the rim, right into Moore’s hands. He throws the ball to me, and we all sprint up the court.
There are ten seconds left, and it feels like destiny.
Starting the offense, men go into motion, and Carter sets the perfect screen for Jordan, leaving him wide open in the corner.
I send the ball to him, and he shoots his shot.
It flies through the air. Swish. His three-pointer is good, and now we are up by one point with two seconds remaining.
You can’t hear anything over the roar of the crowd.
Hustling back to defend the last-ditch effort, a lob pass from the other team is easily stolen by Carter, and that’s it. Game over. CTU wins 89-88.
We won.
We are going to the Final Four!
I fall to my knees and sob in celebration of a team I love. In grief of not having my father in the stands. But ultimately, in happiness, knowing I am one step closer to getting all I ever wanted from the game of basketball.