Fast Break by Mike Lupica Page A

and white shorts of their own.
    The only player that Jayson recognized from Karsten wastheir point guard, Pokie Best, whose cousin lived at the Jeff, and who’d showed up a few times last summer to show off his game.
    He nodded at Jayson when Karsten took the court, and Jayson nodded back. He figured Pokie remembered the two of them going up against each other at the Jeff as well as Jayson did.
    As Jayson jogged back to the court, taking his place behind Bryan Campbell in the line, he saw Ms. Moretti making her way up through the stands to where the Lawtons were sitting.
    As Jayson watched her take her seat, he thought about all the basketball games in his life when nobody had been in the stands to watch him play. But today he had three grownups watching him, plus Zoe, almost like he had his own cheering section.
    He felt a hand on his shoulder and heard Brandon Carr say, “You just gonna keep staring up in the seats or you gonna keep the dang line moving?”
    â€œSorry,” Jayson said. Then he broke for the basket, caught a pass from Cameron, took one dribble, released the ball, put it off the backboard in exactly the right spot, and didn’t wait to see it hit the net. Just heard that sound as he walked away from the hoop.
    He looked up at the clock. Five minutes to tip-off.
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    Coach Rooney went with the starting five they’d been using all week in practice: Jayson at point and Marty Samuels at shooting guard in the backcourt, Cameron at center, Phil Hecht at small forward, and Rashard Walsh at power forward.
    Coach gathered the team around him. “What we’re gonnado today is play
our
game. Man up on defense. Remember on offense that the ball always needs to move faster than anybody trying to guard it. Pass, pass, pass, and find the open man. We’re gonna play team ball because we
are
a team. Five guys on the court, one ball, one goal: to be the best team we can be each and every game.”
    He put his right hand out, his way of telling them to bring it in. They reached in and put their hands on top of his.
    â€œOne more thing,” Coach said. “Hustle every single play. Every stinking loose ball in this game is ours.”
    Karsten won the coin flip. Their ball to start the game. When Jayson went over to match up with Pokie, Pokie said, “Heard you were with these guys now.”
    He was the same size as Jayson, wore his hair in cornrows, and smiled a lot on the court, though Jayson thought it was just part of his act, like he was the only one having fun.
    Jayson shrugged. “Things change.”
    Pokie smiled his smile. “Long way from the Jeff.”
    Jayson answered by putting out a fist so Pokie could pound it. “Have a good game.”
    â€œAlways do,” Pokie said.
    Jayson never tried to force anything early. He’d always watched LeBron let the game come to him in the first quarter, when he was with the Heat and now that he was back with the Cavs. That was his plan today, in the first official game with his new team, wanting to look sharper than he had in his first practice in this gym.
    So he didn’t take his first shot—a driving layup past Pokie on a crossover dribble, Pokie nearly tripping over his own feet—until there was a minute left in the quarter, his basket making the score 8–8.
    Instead of playing like a ball stopper, Jayson was doing what he did best: running the fast break, finding the open man for a score. He had fed Cameron twice for easy buckets.
    Then, Jayson drove through the lane, drew traffic to himself, and dished it to Marty Samuels for a wide-open jumper on the wing. But Jayson also had two turnovers, trying to do too much in his debut for the Bobcats, first forcing a pass to Cameron through a pack of Karsten defenders that was snatched up, then overthrowing the ball to Rashard by a mile when he tried to hit him with a long football pass on the break.
    As soon as he’d seen the