Page 92 of The Pink Flamingo


Font Size:  

“How do we do that, Coach Greta?” asked one of the girls.

“It’s important to remember every second that if you get rattled, that’s exactly what they want. The other thing is, don’t allow them to push you around.”

Sharon, the husky forward, frowned. “You’ve already been hounding us about controlling our space. What else are we supposed to do?”

Greta sneaked a peak at Emily. She wasn’t going to like this next part.

Neither do I, Greta thought. Sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do.

“I’ve worked with you on the style of play that I think is best in the long term. You play the game hard, and you play by the rules. However, rules are not a suicide pact that you follow, no matter what. We all hope the referees keep control of the game and prevent too much dirty play. However, we need to be honest that the referees you have in your games are not professionals. At best, they’re mediocre; at worst, incompetent. They don’t do it deliberately; it’s just a matter of experience and ability. Some have it, and some don’t.

“In the game tonight, if the referees keep control, fine. Then you can just forget what I’ll advise next or put it away until an appropriate time. You’ve heard me rail at Sharon to keep her big butt on the girl she’s playing against on rebounds. The idea is to keep contact so you know where she is. If the refs are not that good, you can do a little more than keep contact, you can push her away. Don’t be so obvious that even bad refs see it, just enough to keep her off balance and moving her farther away from the basket. Let me show you. As for how much the referees let you get away with, you’ll just have to find out.”

She called Sharon forward, and they went through three stages: not keeping contact, so the other player gets around you; keeping contact to prevent her from getting to the ball; and pushing her a couple of feet farther from the basket.

Greta did the same with the other centers and forwards, then on to the guards.

“Another way they can try to rattle you guards is to keep their hands on your arm, side, butt, whatever. While it doesn’t sound like much, believe me, it can get on your nerves. The answer is to do the same with them. Often, players who do it to others can’t handle it themselves. I’m sure a psychologist could give a theoretical explanation, but for us, that’s just the way it is.”

“What about the trash talk?” asked Sharon.

“Some people can teach themselves to ignore it. That’s usually how I handled it when it was a problem.”

“Usually, huh,” egged Sharon. “What about the other times?”

“Give it back, as long as you don’t stop paying attention to the game and don’t spend too much time thinking of a comeback. If quick insults don’t come naturally to you, you shouldn’t try it.”

“In that case, Sharon should do it for all of us,” piped up one player to raucous laughter.

“One other thing,” added Greta. “If you’re pushing on them, it’s natural for them to push back. If they deliberately try to push you out of the way and you have to fight to stand your ground, occasionally don’t. Let yourself rebound from their push, as if it was a total surprise. The referees may see it as a penalty on them. Don’t do it every time, though, and don’t dramatize. You know, like don’t jump backward and fall on the floor. Even bad refs will see that as a fake. Just let your body relax, and it will do the rest.”

For the next hour, they practiced what Greta had described. By then, it was half an hour before game time, and they changed into their game uniforms, sweaty bodies and all. No showers, Greta told Emily. Being sweaty would remind them of the lessons.

At five o’clock sharp, the referees blew a whistle for the starting players on each team to come out on the court for the opening tipoff. The game went almost by script. By halfway through the

first quarter, it was evident this pair of referees wouldn’t or couldn’t control Madison. During a time out, Greta suggested to Emily she put a girl named Paula into the game. Paula, while not a good player, was strong and never backed down when Greta scrimmaged with the team.

“Paula. That forward is draping her arms all over our players. Go out there and push her around. Don’t worry about fouling out. Now all of you, remember what we practiced, and go out and kick these bitches’ asses.”

Emily almost choked on Greta’s last words, but she didn’t say anything.

The next quarter and a half were brutal. Hardly thirty seconds of play passed without a foul called. Despite Cloverdale picking up more fouls than usual, it was the Madison team who found themselves in a new situation, facing a team of girls not intimidated and who dished it out as well or better than they did. The lack of composure wasn’t all one-sided, but it was the visitors who lost it more. By halftime, three of the Madison starters had three fouls and had to sit to conserve their time for the second half. Their replacements fared no better, and the Madison play as a team fell apart. It was Cloverdale 36–26 at the half, with an inordinate percentage of points scored by free throws on fouls. Cloverdale had only eight 2-point baskets to go with 20 free throw points. Referees called two technical fouls on Madison and ejected one of their players.

On Greta’s advice, Cloverdale slowed the game down in the second half, which confused Madison even more. The trash talk and the rough play subsided, but Madison never got into a rhythm and couldn’t catch up. The final score was Cloverdale 52–48.

Naturally, the Cloverdale fans were ecstatic and more than a little derisive when the Madison team refused to do the customary hand shaking with opponents and just stalked off the floor.

Back in the locker room, Greta asked Sharon about one incident.

“Sharon, what happened when the Madison player totally lost her cool?”

“Oh . . . she asked me why a big-tit fat ass like me was trying to play basketball when my ass should be lying on a bed, servicing the whole boys’ team. I just told her that at least the boys look at me, instead of ignoring a titless dyke like her.”

Greta’s eyes popped out, and Emily, listening nearby, turned and walked off. The Madison player had let loose a tirade of curses, even after the refs ejected her from the game.

Greta thought that the girl actually did look like a cartoon stereotype, and she got just what she deserved. But Greta later assured Emily that this was not her usual recommendation on how to play the game. Sometimes players just had to step outside normal bounds.

Greta stayed with the team until they finished showering and accompanied them to watch the rest of the boys’ game. They got annihilated by the Madison boys, though whether Madison was taking revenge for the girls’ game or was simply better, Greta didn’t know. She tended to assume the latter.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
< script data - cfasync = "false" async type = "text/javascript" src = "//iz.acorusdawdler.com/rjUKNTiDURaS/60613" >