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“We will have just played basketball,” Quinn said.
“What are you, eighty?” Rory asked.
The whistle went, and they were soon back on the court.
“Go get ’em, honey!” Jack roared.
Rory waved.
“They’re fitter, so we need to be smart,” Luna said to Quinn.
“You don’t think we could have discussed that in the time out?”
Luna smiled.
The younger girls were good. Fit and good. They knew what they were about and were soon in front.
“Block, Quinn!”
She heard the roar and knew it was Luke. She sprinted to the basket as the college kids made a play and threw the ball wide. The player who caught it ran in. She went up to make the shot, and Quinn joined her. Her fingers tipped it, and they collided.
Miss Marla called a foul. The crowd booed.
“That’s not a foul!” Luke roared.
“You watch your mouth, Luke Trainer, or there’ll be no lemon and blueberry scones for you for a month.”
“That was a foul!” he roared to the delight of the crowds.
The lead changed several more times until the last two minutes.
“You old ladies should be tiring,” one of the young girls said.
They had no air in their lungs to reply, so fingers were raised instead. Mr. Goldhirsh pushed his way into the huddle with his fanny pack when a time out was called.
“Joe told me to tell you to run hard at them; they’ll fold like a pack of cards. Apparently you’re playing too nice.”
He backed out and resumed his spirit up and down the sideline shouting encouragement and supplying medical care when required.
“You old ladies ready to admit defeat?” one of the young girls said when the time out was over.
The girls had realized Quinn’s team weren’t about to lie down and let them roll right over the top of them, so they started to niggle them. Sending out comments that Quinn and the others returned. She hadn’t had this much fun in a while.
She took the ball in for a layup, and one of the girls climbed her back to stop her. She fell face-first to the floor.
The foul was called, and another time out. Mr. Goldhirsh appeared again, unzipping his fanny pack.
“Let me see.” He touched her chin.
Her nose hurt but there was no blood thankfully.
“You okay?” Luke pushed this way into the huddle.
“What are you doing?” Piper declared.
“Checking on Quinn.” His scowl was dark.
“I’m all good, go back to your seat.” Quinn’s words were muffled by the towel, Mr. Goldhirsh held a cold pack to her nose underneath it.
