Game day.
That was the first thought that hit Aaron's mind while he slowly opened his eyes and got up from his bed after resting enough and standing up ready to start the new day.
As soon as he leaned both hands on the edge of the bed, a sting shot up his left side. "Oh right," Aaron thought, remembering that effectively yesterday he had hurt his left wrist in the game against the Bulldogs.
Standing up this time, procuring not to move or put pressure on his left arm, Aaron goes immediately toward the bathroom to proceed to perform his needs and go down to look for something to eat since last night's pizza was not enough to be able to satisfy his stomach.
Once he was ready, Aaron went down by the elevator heading for the school cafeteria in which most of the team was already having breakfast and conversing among themselves, but as soon as they saw him enter the room, silence settled completely within the place.
Aaron was not surprised by that, nor by the fact that the first reaction of several was to fixate on his left wrist, which had seen the swelling go down a lot since last night thanks to the pertinent care and the cold compresses he applied last night.
Acting as if he had not seen anything, Aaron moved quickly to grab a plate and serve himself the food from the buffet that was right in the corner, under the attentive gaze of all his teammates.
"Aaron, over here!!" Omar shouted from a table in the right corner where he and Corey were, raising his hand so Aaron would notice him. Aaron began to walk in their direction, arriving in a few long strides and leaving his plates.
"How is your wrist doing?" was the first question Corey asked him as soon as Aaron sat down, hoping that everything was fine and that Aaron could play the game now in the afternoon since with him on the court, Corey's ball-handling responsibilities become much easier.
"Better. Enough to play," responded Aaron, lifting the wrist in question, which had a much better appearance than yesterday, at which Corey let out a sigh of relief.
"Do you know if you will play?" was Omar's next question, curious to know if Coach Arbitello will actually put Aaron to play on the court or if he will stay seated on the bench.
"We'll see," responded Aaron, neither affirming nor denying anything since although the coach had told him he would play, he had not confirmed if he would enter in the starting quintet or if he would enter from the bench, considerably reducing his playing time.
"Does anyone know why Dom is looking at me with a bad face?" Aaron asked this time while pointing toward another table in which Dominykas was, who had not looked away nor stopped looking with a bad face in the direction toward the back of Aaron's neck.
"Leave it," said Omar, not wanting Aaron to find out everything that was happening, giving a significant look toward Corey, who did not fully understand what said look meant and simply explained the situation.
"He is worried about losing his starting spot," was Corey's simple response, being afterward withered by Omar's gaze, with Corey's only response being to raise his hands in a sign of surrender.
At that, Aaron seemed to understand and sympathize slightly with Dominykas's situation; that a new student arrives and takes your starting spot must be a great blow to the ego of any player, but despite sympathizing, Aaron also understood that was how the game was.
After all, the coach will always put the best player possible according to his performance and tactics to obtain the victory for his team.
"Leave it," said Aaron, not wanting to worry about that and concentrating more on the breakfast he had in front of him at that moment, which consisted of juice, fruit, and scrambled eggs with ham.
After that, the atmosphere inside the cafeteria seemed to return to its original state with each of the tables conversing among themselves in harmony until suddenly Coach Arbitello stood up and headed toward one table in particular. "Reed, can you come with me for a moment?" the coach asked, wanting to speak with Aaron in private.
"Sure," said Aaron to drag the chair back and stand up to follow the coach out of the cafeteria in the direction toward the hotel lobby. "See you later, guys," Aaron shouted from the cafeteria exit door and leaving from there, following the coach.
Once in the lobby, Aaron saw the team medic, who seemed to be waiting for the coach to arrive with Aaron.
Already assuming what the meeting with Coach Arbitello was about, Aaron greeted the medic, who returned a cordial greeting to then move on to the most important matter. "How is the wrist now?" the doctor asked without filters, his greatest concern being the health of the players.
"Better," said Aaron, lifting the wrist while making slight movements, demonstrating that effectively his wrist was in better condition, but equally the doctor extended his hand and began to evaluate the wrist in detail.
"The inflammation went down," Aaron heard the doctor murmur while he continued with his meticulous analysis without wanting to overlook anything.
"I still think you should not play today's game, but at least I think you will be able to move without discomfort on the court," sentenced the doctor, letting Aaron know that he could play under his own risk, something with which the doctor was not at all in agreement, but seeing that Aaron did not seem to want to miss the game, he let out a tired sigh while opening the briefcase he had at his side.
"If you are going to play, at least make sure to put a good wrap on that wrist so that it does not move too much," he said to begin to bandage around Aaron's wrist.
Following that comment, the doctor proceeded to bandage Aaron's wrist with a wrap, paying special attention to it being well adjusted to maintain the wrist in its position.
"How do you feel it?" the medic asked him, making a final knot and adjusting the wrap, seeing how Aaron moved his arm slightly and exerted a little pressure to feel how tight the wrap was and if he could play with it.
"It feels good," said Aaron after performing certain movements and giving a thumbs up in the direction toward the doctor. "Just try not to move that hand much in the game," was the last thing the doctor told him in his direction to then turn toward Coach Arbitello. "And you make sure that he doesn't play too much." Finishing saying that, he closed his briefcase and prepared to leave, leaving coach and player alone in the lobby.
"Now there is another reason why I called you here," said Coach Arbitello, making Aaron know that there was another reason for him to call him and separate him from the rest of the players. "In today's game, you will enter as a substitute," was the first phrase Coach Arbitello told him in Aaron's direction in a tone of voice that gave to understand that that is not negotiable.
Upon seeing Aaron's silence, he took it as if he had accepted it without problems, so the coach decided to continue with his explanation about the tactics for the game they would play within a few hours.
"So I will put you in during crucial moments so that you take shots from the outside of the perimeter; that way we avoid you having physical confrontations and we take care that the injury in your wrist does not worsen," he finished explaining the plans he had for the next game and the role Aaron would fulfill in his tactical roster for that game.
"The Kangaroos are a team that likes to play an offense based on outside shots, so I hope that you can suppress their firepower and prevent the score from becoming a disparity of point difference," was Coach Arbitello's next observation about the tactics that the Kangaroos usually play.
"Their most threatening player is Jerry White; he is a very versatile small forward with a great precision along with a very consistent mid-range shot," Coach Arbitello explained while showing Aaron a sheet with Jerry's statistics, being the most surprising his shooting percentage, which was 68%, something quite high for a high school player.
"He is quite the shooter," was the first thought that crossed Aaron's mind upon seeing Jerry's statistics, being the most prominent his percentage of successful shots.
"But he has a fatal defect," the coach added quickly, specifically catching Aaron's attention. "While his percentage is quite high, he fears physical confrontation; to be more exact, he avoids it by all means," Coach Arbitello responded, sharing what Jerry's weakness was.
"I think we already have the game won, coach," Aaron responded, sharing a smile with Coach Arbitello.
A few hours later.
As soon as the Royals team entered the stadium, they were cheered by all the crowd of spectators who had come especially to see them play.
And it's that with a record of 2 victories, the Royals were clearly one of the favorites to win the tournament.
"Go Royals," shouted a member of the crowd being seated near to where the team was preparing to warm up. "Crush those Kangaroos," shouted another, being caught up by the atmosphere that was being lived in the stadium at this very moment.
The Royals team was warming up and stretching, preparing for the game that would begin in a few minutes and in which it could be decided who would take the winner's trophy in this edition.
The attention of most people was on the revelation player of this tournament, who was in the left corner next to a pile of balls, stretching before being able to begin to launch the balls in sequence, tuning his shot before the match.
Already having warmed up enough, Aaron grabbed a ball and while passing it between his hands, he immediately fixed his gaze on the basket and with an orthodox and simple movement, he launched the ball, which traced a parabola in the air to end up bouncing against the rim without entering.
"Thump," was the sound of the ball impacting the rim and going out.
Without being discouraged by that, Aaron grabbed another of the balls from the pile and again launched the ball, this time adjusting slightly his grip and the angle of his shot, causing the ball this time to enter through the hoop, but not in the clean way he expected.
Adjusting more and more the form of his shot, Aaron began to improve his shot gradually, causing the ball to pass through the hoop more consistently than at the beginning, causing a smile on Aaron's face.
"Not bad," said a voice from the other half of the court, causing Aaron to turn in the direction toward the sound and see a boy of slender build and a head shorter than him who looked slightly surprised at Aaron's shooting sequence.
"Thanks," responded Aaron, believing that that would be the end of the conversation. "I'm Jerry, by the way," said the boy now known as Jerry, extending his hand in the direction toward Aaron, being received by his hand.
"Aaron," was the short response he said in Jerry's direction. "I know; everyone talks about you now," Jerry responded, making Aaron know that he already knew him. "Sorry about the injury, by the way," Jerry said this time, fixing his gaze on the bandage that was on Aaron's left wrist.
"Don't worry; that won't prevent us from crushing you guys," was Aaron's friendly comment in Jerry's direction, who laughed in response to his attempted provocation. "That, we will see," Jerry responded, deciding to return to his own practice before the warm-up time ran out.
After a few minutes, the referee blew his whistle, causing both teams to surround their coaches and prepare for the start of the game.
"Very well, guys, follow the plan and we will be fine," Coach Arbitello said, already having discussed the strategy before and not wanting to repeat it.
"Royals on 3," he said to then put his hand to the center, followed by the rest of the players. "1 2 3"
"ROYALS," they shouted, taking their hands to the air, ready for the start of the game.
Authors thought's
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