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Andrea logged on to her computer to avoid facing her colleagues. “Yes. Will made the announcement last week. Unless something drastic happens, the paper will probably fold this summer.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it.” Frederick spoke with almost stunning insensitivity. “It’s time you moved on. It’s been four years since your Jackie Jones story ruined your career. You’re ready for a fresh start.”
Andrea blinked her surprise. “Thank you, Fred.” I think.
“I agree with Fred,” Jenna added. “You’re good. You’ll get another newspaper job, and quickly. I’ll let you know if I hear of anything.”
Andrea was breathless with surprise. “I’d appreciate that.”
“So will I.” Sean sounded grudging, but Andrea would take even that type of help.
Silence settled over the group as they prepared to cover the game. The Monarchs cheerleaders came out to entertain the audience with dance routines to various pop songs, including B.o.B.’s “I Am the Champion.”
The arena lights went down and Andrea’s pulse picked up. The laser light show glowed above the fans and danced around the ceiling. The announcer called the names of the Cleveland Cavaliers’ players. Then his booming voice introduced the Monarchs’ starting lineup—Serge Gateau, Vincent Jardine, Anthony Chambers, Jamal Ward, and Barron Douglas.
The game started, and Andrea tuned out everything else.
Win or go home. Postseason was on the line.
A stressful hour later for Monarchs fans, the team emerged from their locker room to start the third quarter and face their 21-point deficit to the Cavaliers. Their fans had booed them off the court at halftime in response to the 68-to-47 score. Many of those fans had left the arena in anger. The rest sat in silent disgust.
DeMarcus Guinn joined the players. His hand rested on Warrick’s shoulder as he motioned the other players to him. Though his expressionless mask was firmly in place, he delivered last-minute instructions with an intensity Andrea felt eight rows up in the stands. If only she could hear his words.
The buzzer sounded the start of the third quarter. DeMarcus stepped back. Andrea watched Serge, Anthony Chambers, Vincent Jardine, Jamal Ward, and Warrick Evans jog to the court. Her eyes widened as she realized Barron remained behind. On the bench, the team captain sat with his head cupped in his hands. On the court, the team had renewed energy.
Warrick positioned his teammates with gestures and words Andrea couldn’t hear. But she knew his directions accounted for more talking than the Monarchs had done all game. Seeing Warrick on the court revived Andrea’s optimism. If you weren’t talking, you weren’t winning. She’d heard athletes say that often.
Over the next twelve minutes, she sat mesmerized as the Monarchs challenged the Cavaliers’ lead. Warrick provided the strongest defense the team had seen all series. He kept the Cavaliers’ point guard from shooting from the outside or driving in the paint. He blocked passing lanes and stole rebounds, opening opportunities for his teammates to score.
Serge, Vincent, and Anthony had hot hands in the post and the perimeter. And, for the first time during the game, the players worked Jamal into the offense. The rookie’s participation helped keep the Cavaliers’ defense off balance. By the end of the third quarter, the Monarchs had cut the Cavaliers lead by more than half, finishing 77 to 69. The fans were back in the game, whipped into a frenzy by their team’s resurgence. Andrea felt the electricity in the arena.
The fourth and final quarter began. Twelve more minutes. Andrea sat straighter in her chair.
The Monarchs returned to the court. The effort of their third quarter showed in their legs. Immediately, the Cavaliers sped past the older, more winded team, adding 6 points to their lead, 83 to 69. Warrick clapped his hands and called to his teammates. Andrea couldn’t make out his words above the crowd noise, but the Monarchs seemed to dig deep to pick up their pace. Andrea pressed her left fist against her lips as she watched her Brooklyn team make their stand to remain in the play-offs.
Nine minutes later, the score stood at 103 to 98. The arena shook with excitement as fans dared to hope their beloved Monarchs would take the win. Andrea couldn’t hear herself think. Her shoulders tensed with suspense. Would the Monarchs survive?
Her gaze shot to DeMarcus, who prowled the sideline in his black suit and silver tie. His attention bounced between the court and the game clock. Three minutes remained in game four. The Monarchs needed a miracle.
On the court, Anthony Parker, one of the Cavaliers’ stars, inbounded the ball past Warrick to his Cavaliers teammate Antawn Jamison. Serge moved up to defend Jamison as the Cavalier worked his way into the paint. The six-foot-ten Monarch shut down the six-foot-nine Cavalier, forcing Jamison to pass the ball back to Anthony Parker. Warrick leaned into the open lane and stole the pass, sending the Monarchs back to their basket, the Cavaliers in heavy pursuit. Midway down the court, Warrick jettisoned the ball to Anthony, who stood at the perimeter and took a leap of faith for a three-point shot.
Andrea held her breath until the ball swooshed through the net. The daring play had cut the Cavaliers lead further, 103 to 101. The game clock showed two minutes and ten seconds remaining. Andrea fisted her palm beneath the media desk. The Monarchs had to win. They just had to.
The Cavaliers’ Ramon Sessions caught the rebound and hustled his team back down the court. Vincent caught Sessions across the court, defending him close. Sessions tried a quick spin around the Monarchs center, but Anthony moved in to close off access. Double-teamed, Sessions stepped back to try to match the Monarchs three-point shot. The shot traveled past the fingertips of Vincent and Anthony and over Jamal’s head. A foot from the basket, Serge leaped. He blocked the ball from its goal and held on to it.
Andrea swallowed her heart. She watched as Serge dribbled three steps before lobbing the ball to Vincent. Vincent sped straight for the basket. Two points. The Monarchs had tied the game at 103. The game clock ticked down to fifty-five seconds.
The Cavaliers head coach, Byron Scott, called for a timeout. Andrea breathed a sigh of relief. She needed the break.
Frederick leaned closer to Andrea and raised his voice above the fan frenzy. “Even if the Monarchs win this game, they’ll probably still lose the series. In the history of the play-offs, ninety-eight teams have been down three and oh, and all ninety-eight teams have gone on to lose the series.”
Frederick was bringing up the odds now? Really?
Andrea controlled her irritation. “I’ll take this win.”
The timeout ended. The Cavaliers moved into position. The Monarchs circled like predators assessing their prey. The Cavaliers’ Antawn Jamison inbounded the ball to Anthony Parker. Warrick moved in to defend. Parker passed the ball to the Cavaliers’ Anderson Varejao. Anthony stepped closer to Varejao.
Fifty-three seconds remained in the game. Monarchs fans surged to their feet like the sixth man rallying their team. They chanted, “Defense!” Andrea pressed her fist against her lips as faith and tension blanketed the arena. With the score tied at 103, it was a whole new ball game. A lot could happen in fifty-three seconds.
