Spoiler Meta Spoiler Meta
Matt Solutions for Basketball
Lucy spread Coach Sanders’s notes across the foot of Matt’s bed and opened her own notebook beside them.
“Mom called,” she said. “She’s coming up with the girls next weekend. Tom’s already asking if you want him to bring the cards.”
“Tell him yes. Last time he owed me twelve dollars.”
“He owed you three. You inflated the stakes because he can’t say no to you.”
“He’s a grown man. He can fold.”
“He’s a grown man who’s outnumbered four to one. You’re the only backup he’s got.”
Matt almost smiled. “Saturday works. The girls can run laps in the hallway. PT loves that.”
“I’ll let Mom know.” Lucy flipped to a clean page. “Okay. I need help.”
“With?”
“Open gym is next week and I still don’t have a system. Sanders left me a binder full of drills, but half of them are for a team I’ve never seen play. I don’t know what these girls can do.”
“What did Sanders say about them?”
“Disciplined. Solid fundamentals. Lose when the other team speeds up the pace.”
“So they play reactive.”
“That’s what I think. But I don’t know enough to fix it yet.”
Matt picked up his pen with his left hand and started scribbling. A month ago he turned his notepad face-down when she walked in.
“Your problem isn’t skill. It’s initiative. They wait for the other team to do something, then respond. That works until someone pushes tempo, and then they’re always a step behind.”
“Right. So how do I fix that with a team I haven’t met?”
“You don’t fix the team. You fix the structure. Give them a system that forces initiative, and the players fill it in.”
He turned the paper toward her. The drawing was crooked but readable. A rectangle. Five circles on each side. Arrows.
“This is not a basketball play.”
“It absolutely is.”
“Matt, there are siege lines on this.”
“This, is a Castle Drop.”
“No.”
“Hear me out.”
“I’m not teaching teenage girls something called a Castle Drop.”
“You don’t have to call it that. The concept works. You set up strong in the paint before the other team establishes position. Not waiting for them to come to you. You’re already there.”
He drew a second set of lines, slowly.
“The center and your forwards lock down the key early. That forces the other team to work around you instead of through you. They spread out, your guards pick off the passing lanes.”
The logic was sound. She read enough military history to recognize it. Fortify first, control the terrain, make the other side react to your position.
“What’s this one?” She pointed at the right side of the diagram.
His face lit up. “That’s your Boar Lure.”
“Matt.”
“This one’s good.”
“They’re all good in your head. That’s the problem.”
“It’s a press break trap. Your point guard pushes past half court, forces the defense to commit. They step up, your guard pulls back. Defenders are overextended. Forwards collapse and force the turnover.”
“And if they don’t commit?”
“Then your guard’s already past them. Either way, you win the exchange.”
Lucy stared at the diagram for longer than she wanted to admit.
“You’re drawing medieval warfare from a video game and calling them basketball plays.”
“I’m drawing basketball plays that happen to have good names.”
“I’m having fifth grade backyard siege flashbacks.”
“Good. You were a fast learner back then too.”
She started translating his plays into positions. Point guard here. Forwards here. The Castle Drop was a zone setup with teeth. The Boar Lure was a half-court press to bait overextension. Both simple enough to teach, flexible enough to adjust once she’d seen the players.
Matt had gone quiet.
“What,” she said.
“Nothing. You’re going to be fine, Luce.”
He meant more than basketball. She knew that. And she knew he needed to say it as much as she needed to hear it.
“Yeah. I think so.”
- ← Previous
Unleash - Next →
Sorrow and Loss