Driven_589066

“She’s kinda doped up and probably won’t make any sense, but sure.”

“Thanks.”

The techs backed away as Dylan moved forward to the table and looked down at her fallen player. Angela was a little pale, and her leg looked as if it had

been through the meat grinder, but otherwise, she looked better than Dylan could have hoped.

When she saw her coach peering down at her, a big, morphine-enhanced grin curled her lips. “Heya, Coach!” she sang, trying to lift an arm, then giving up

when it didn’t want to work, and letting it flop down to the bed. “Howzzz thangs?”

“Things are pretty good,” Dylan replied, trying to keep her expression serious.

“Thass good.” Her eyes widened. “Gosh, you sure are pretty, Coach! Did anyone ever tell you that? That you’re reallll pretty?? Did they?”

Dylan could feel the heat of the blush crawling up from her neck, and glared at the others in the room who were snickering at her. They quickly found other

things to do. When she looked back down at her player, Angela looked as if she was getting ready to cry. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

“I ain’t gonna be able to play no more,” she mumbled, sounding very much like a three-year old.

“Sure you will,” Dylan countered, taking the young woman’s hand. “You’ve only got a sprain, not a tear. Didn’t the Doc tell you that?”

“Don’t remember.”

Dylan looked over at Norton, who nodded.

“You’re gonna be fine, Angela,” the coach said. “A brace, crutches, some PT, and before you know it, you’ll be sinking threes again just like you did

tonight.”

Big, round, innocent eyes met hers, hope shining in them. “You really think so?”

“I know so.”

“Gosh, Coach Goddess, you’re real swell. And pretty too.” Tippens giggled and tried to lift her arms again. It was a lost cause, and after a final squeeze of

her hand, Dylan backed away, gesturing for Norton to follow her back to the corner.

“What’s up?” the doc asked.

“Dobbins. She’s the only one we have who can play her position, and she’s been suffering back spasms since the Pistol’s game. Do whatever you need to

do for her, but make sure she can play tomorrow night.”

“I don’t know, D. She’s been in a lot of pain….”

“Just do it.”

Norton blinked, then nodded. “I’ll see what I can do,” she said tightly.

“Good.”

“You can let the others in to see her for a couple minutes if you want,” Norton called out to Dylan’s retreating back. She received a brisk nod in response as

the coach hit the door and disappeared back into the waiting room.

A minute later, a flood of players entered the room, talking excitedly.

Back in the now empty waiting room, Dylan dug her cellphone from her pocket, flipped it open, and punched a button with her thumb. She held the phone

to her ear until the line was answered by a sleepy, annoying voice. “Manny? We need to talk. Now.”

******

“And that was the buzzer, Lori, bringing to close a, well, I guess you would have to call it ‘inspiring’ half of basketball.”

“Inspiring indeed, Ted. With the Badgers’ great defensive shot blocker and outside threat Angela Tippens out with an injured knee, Lola Dobbins has been

doing her best to fit in, but you could tell several times out there that her back was giving her a lot of trouble. Frankly, I’m surprised Coach Lambert kept her

in the entire half.”

“Well, Lori, it’s not that surprising when you look at their roster and see that there really isn’t anybody to replace her with. Thorne’s been having trouble

with bursitis in her shooting arm, and I don’t think Dylan is comfortable going up against a team as all-around tall as the Lightning with three women in

there under 5’6”. Especially with Cat Hodges, their outstanding point guard and court general, hobbled with that sore knee.”

“Very true. What is surprising, I think, is that the Badgers, the little team that could, has actually managed to make somewhat of a game of it out there

today. Yes, they’re losing by fifteen at the half, but they’ve overcome worse deficits, and in the last game, managed to win despite behind eleven at the

half.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what tricks Coach Lambert can pull out of her sleeve this week, Ted, because things the way they are, I don’t think

we’re in for a repeat of that last game.”

“Understood, Lori. Well, folks, stay tuned for the second half of what promises to be a gutsy performance by the Birmingham Badgers against the perennial

favorites, the Louisiana Lightning. And we’ll be back after this commercial from Maxi-Fresh.”

“I’ll be fine, Coach!” Lola Dobbins yelled from the depths of the whirlpool into which she’d been ensconced the very second the buzzer rang ending the half.

“Just a little more of this hot water and a good massage, and maybe a shot, and I’ll be good to go. I can feel the muscles relaxing already!”

“Just relax in there, Dobbins,” a harried Norton said, buzzing past Dylan with a soft brace and liniment in her hand for Cat’s swollen knee. “I’ll be back in a

minute.”

“I swear, Coach, I’m feeling better. Honest.” Dobbins turned pleading eyes to Dylan. “Please. Let me play. I can do it.”