drinking cups of Gatorade. âAny college in the country would want him.â
âYeah, I know. He says I should think about it, though. Thatâs why Iâm considering Notre Dame.â
âYou can consider any place you want, but itâs North State that made you the scholarship offer. Theyâre the one thatâs considering you. â Saying this, T.J. paused to speculate if there might be any connection between Notre Dame and Nike. He didnât know, though. He was beginning to wonder what was connected to what in order to form what networks.
âIshmael thinks him ânâ me would make a great combination.â
âYou probably would. Hell, you already do; why do you think weâve won six games the last two days?â
Tyronâs grin seemed to reach from the left ear to the right ear. âYou see me dunk on that gold team yesterday?â
âI saw. Listen, Bumpyââ
âNo Bumpy!â
âOkay, sorry. Listen, Tyron, you have to think about loyalty too. Who was it that made you the first offer, huh? It was North State. Who was it that told us about Public Law 504 so you can have the ACT read to you?â
âI know, I know. It was Coach Lindsey at North State.â
âExactly. With all the bullshit that goes on, you have to think about loyalty.â
âI still have the right to think about Notre Dame if I want to.â
âNobody says you donât.â T.J. was fishing his watch from his athletic bag. He had at least forty minutes before the next game. âDo me a favor, though?â
âWhat favor?â
âJust keep away from Bee Edwards and those other street agents. Be sure you spend your time with Buddy and the guys. No hustlers.â
âThereâs nothinâ wrong with takinâ shoes. Everybody gets shoes.â
âNobody gets shoes for nothinâ, Tyron.â
âNothinâ. Not a cent, not even a nickel.â
âIt may not have anything to do with money. It might be a different kind of payoff; just keep away from the street agents, okay?â Then T.J. left for the courts before he could hear what the answer might turn out to be.
The second game of the morning was another easy victory, but a disturbing clash developed between Tyron and Ishmael Greene. The other team was playing a box-and-one defense so as to free one man to shadow Greene wherever he might go. That wasnât a problem in itself, for no one person could cover Ishmael alone.
But the other players, none more so than Tyron, were enjoying their huge lead. They were basically standing around playing out the string, which left their defenders free to double- and even triple-team Ishmael. It was Ishmael alone who couldnât seem to find a way to put it on idle; it was a gear he didnât possess. He played with the same level of intense fury he might have needed in a tie game. With no warning at all, it seemed, he was all over Tyron for loafing. âHowâm I sâposed to beat three guys?â he demanded to know.
âHuh?â said Tyron. He was grinning large and slapping high fives with his sated teammates.
âYou need to house that motherfucker out the way; howâm I gonna drive the lane against my own man plus a three-man zone?â Ishmael was breathing hard, but he didnât appear tired. It was almost like he couldnât get tired , T.J. thought to himself. He also wondered why Ishmael chose to target Tyron, when the other players were on shutdown the same as he was.
âYou donât need to get on Tyronâs case,â he said to Ishmael. âThe gameâs over, for Christ sake.â
âYou see time left on that clock or not?â was Ishmaelâs response.
There was one minute and twelve seconds remaining on the small electric Scoreboard next to the scorerâs table. âI see a minute,â T.J. replied. âI also see a thirty-point lead. Why donât you