Massacre
That was the only thought roaming through the heads of all the spectators witnessing that game, as well as all the Bulldogs players, who had looks of desperation on their faces.
"Ah... ah..." were the only sounds coming out of Gardner's mouth at that moment as he faced the player in front of him, who was boredly bouncing the ball and had a tired look on his face.
"I'm going to shoot," the player said as he immediately rose into the air from the three-point line and released the ball as high as he could, and it went cleanly into the rival team's hoop.
"Pii!" was the sound of the referee's whistle, indicating that the Royals team had effectively scored again.
31-68.
That was the score that could be seen throughout the sports complex, where several spectators couldn't stop discussing it.
"This is a massacre," said Jeff, who, after his defeat yesterday against the Royals team, was glad that his team hadn't lost as crushingly as the Bulldogs, who were playing right now.
"Good thing we aren't them right now," added Brooks, who was sitting next to Jeff and was watching the same game, being just as or even more surprised than him.
"You can say that again," Jeff responded while mentally paying attention to everything happening on the court, especially how Aaron played and moved, trying to decipher his way of playing now that he saw it from an angle other than the court.
"How do you defend him?" Jeff asked aloud, trying to find anything that could give him an answer to the question he had asked himself.
"No idea," Brooks said beside Jeff, having heard the question he had asked.
Their team had played their second game a few hours earlier, and having finished early, the coach decided to stay at the complex to watch the rest of the games before returning to the hotel to rest.
The Vikings played their second game more comfortably, winning with a score of 54-41 against Binghamton, another school from New York that was not at the Royals' level, let alone having a player like the one making the Bulldogs suffer on the court right now.
"If you take him out of the paint, he shoots from the 3-point line without any problems," Brooks mentioned quickly, remembering the perimeter shots Aaron had made in the game they played against them yesterday.
"If he's inside the paint, he disorients you with his footwork," was Jeff's comment, likewise remembering the feints and movements he had made in the low post.
As they said that, both let out a sigh and decided, for the sake of their sanity and mental health, not to think about it and be grateful that after that day, they wouldn't have to face a monster like that ever again in their lives.
"You know what's most unreasonable?" Brooks said with an ironic smile, finally turning his gaze toward Jeff, who was sitting next to him and, feeling his gaze, turned toward him as well, waiting for the words his teammate was about to say next.
"That he's only 15 years old," he stated. "It means he still hasn't reached his true potential, either in skill or physically," he said tiredly, making Jeff remember that Aaron was indeed only 15 years old at this moment.
"Imagine him when he's bigger and stronger in a few years," Brooks now said, imagining a more mature Aaron with better footwork and more height than he has now.
That thought alone caused chills throughout Jeff's body as he imagined the same thing his teammate was imagining right now.
At that precise moment, while both were giving thanks that they weren't the ones on the court, the Bulldogs team hoped that this torture would just end once and for all.
Aaron had the ball this time, which Corey had passed to him inside the paint while he had Gardner behind him and a teammate at his side, preventing him from being able to turn to face the hoop with ease.
"Don't even think about trying anything," Gardner grunted through his teeth while using all his strength and weight to push Aaron in an attempt to make him feel more uncomfortable and prevent him from scoring another basket, and so his teammate could strip the ball firmly held in the aforementioned's hands.
While Aaron felt the force behind his back as he protected the ball, he couldn't help but talk to Gardner and his teammate who were struggling against him to try and snatch the ball from his hands. "This is what I'll do," he started to say, causing both to tense up instinctively, already knowing what that meant. "Turn to the left, then a fake to the right, followed by a fadeaway to score," he finished saying.
Then he performed exactly the same sequence of movements he had said, turning to the left, causing the player at his side to instinctively turn in the same direction subconsciously.
Following that, Aaron, relying on the core strength of his core, turned his whole body in the opposite direction, briefly freeing himself from the marking of Gardner's teammate as he turned and jumped to perform a mid-range shot toward the hoop in front of him.
Gardner tried with all his strength to jump to stop Aaron's shot, but the moment Aaron jumped, he raised a leg, causing his knee to collide with Gardner's body, preventing him from getting closer while Aaron leaned his body and launched the ball at a high angle.
"Swish," was the clean sound of the ball entering the basket.
31-70 current score.
"Didn't see it coming?" Aaron told Gardner with a smile, while immediately retreating along with the rest of his team toward their own side of the court.
"Massacre is the only word to define this encounter," Jerry's voice said, echoing throughout the stadium, while both he and the rest of the spectators continued to watch the game taking place.
"You said it, Jerry," Logan followed. "Since the second quarter when Aaron Reed moved to center, the Royals' game has entered a new dimension, increasing the pace of passing with the ball thanks to the excellent play between him and Edwards," he finished telling the entire crowd present.
And the thing is, once Aaron started playing at center along with Corey, it was as if the Royals team had 2 playmakers, making their ball handling more fluid and leaving the Bulldogs with problems knowing who to mark or guessing the passing directions.
"And mind you, the Bulldogs aren't just any team; they're coming off beating Binghamton yesterday with a score of 65-30, with a difference of more than 30 points," Jerry added, remembering the Bulldogs' game from yesterday.
While both commentators were busy talking about the score and the game, the Bulldogs' coach couldn't take it anymore and immediately approached the referee to call the last timeout he had left.
Once done and his players approached, the coach didn't waste words on encouraging them or anything of the sort and simply addressed Gardner. "How are you? Can you keep going?" he asked, seeing how tired and sweaty he was at that moment.
"No problem," Gardner responded, not wanting to leave the court yet, knowing they were in the final minutes of the last quarter.
Thinking about the game ending and the fact they were losing by an enormous difference, the players' reactions were different; some showed expressions of relief, thinking the situation was finally ending and they could soon get out of here.
On the other hand, players like Gardner had their fists clenched in a sign of frustration, thinking about the bitter defeat they were about to face and how the other team had dominated them, not physically, but in skills—and that was something that hit Gardner harder, being a player who depended entirely on his physique to play.
With no strategy in mind for what remained of the game, the Bulldogs' coach let the players rest and rehydrate before they had to go back onto the court, while signaling Gardner to approach him.
"We are going to lose the game," was the first thing the coach said to Gardner without softening or sugarcoating anything, simply stating a reality that would be fulfilled in a few minutes without them being able to do anything to reverse it.
"But we won't leave without giving them a souvenir," the coach said this time, while a somber look settled over his face, his gaze fixed on Aaron, who was sitting with a towel around his neck while drinking from a water bottle he had received from Omar, who was sitting next to him. "You know what to do," he told Gardner as the timeout ended and the players returned to the court.
The ball was in the possession of the Royals team with Corey in possession of the ball, quickly passing it to Maurice, who, unable to get a clear shot, had to return it to Corey. He set up the play again, passing it this time to Omar, who tried to cut inside and penetrate the hoop, but his shot was blocked by a Bulldogs player.
The Bulldogs, recovering possession of the ball, immediately moved up quickly, knowing that even though they were going to lose, they were going to try to reduce the point gap so as not to lose so crushingly.
The ball was immediately received by Gardner, who was marked by Roland at his back, while Aaron tried to sneak closer to him again to steal the ball, but Gardner, now used to that technique the Royals had used, immediately raised his elbows.
"Ugh!" was the sound that came out of Aaron's mouth the moment Gardner's elbow collided with his chest and knocked all the air out of him, while he instinctively raised his hands toward the referee, who hadn't seen anything, as Gardner dunked the ball against the hoop.
32-70 current score.
"Didn't see it coming?" this time it was Gardner who said that phrase to Aaron, while giving him his most mocking smile in an attempt to provoke Aaron even further, but seeing how he had a serious look and ignored his concerns, he simply huffed as he returned to his side of the court.
Now it was the Royals' turn to attack, and as in the last few times, the ball instinctively ended up in the hands of Aaron, who once again had Gardner in front of him. Through feints and crossovers, he managed to break free to pass him.
But what neither he nor any of his teammates could foresee was that as soon as he passed him, Gardner immediately ran toward him and pushed him with all his might, causing Aaron to fall, and his left hand was the first to hit the floor.
"Shit!" Aaron cursed while instinctively bringing his hand to chest height and grabbing his wrist in a clear sign of pain.
"What do you think you're doing, you idiot?!" Omar roared, furious, being the first to stand up to Gardner, who raised his hands as if he hadn't done anything, while the Royals' crowd gathered around Aaron and the referee blew his whistle, pausing the game.
Immediately after, the Royals' medical staff entered the court, crouching down toward Aaron and beginning to check his wrist. The more they checked, the more their brow furrowed, and they signaled to Coach Arbitello.
Seeing the signal, the coach immediately called Dominykas, who was already prepared and ready at the edge of the court to enter. As soon as Aaron, along with the medical staff, left the court, he entered with the goal of playing the last remaining minutes of the game.
The question everyone was asking at that moment was whether Aaron would be okay and if the injury he seemed to have in his wrist wouldn't be too serious, and if he would be able to play the game the next day, which would likely define who the tournament winner would be.
Authors thought's
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