Tremaine dribbled with composure amid the intense afternoon heat. He didn't mind the beads of sweat pouring down his cheeks, nor the glaring sunlight harassing his eyesight.
They only have a single point after all.
Coach Roughan sprang the idea on the players at the back end of the rotation, right after he not so subtly implied that there was no significance to that cleaning project earlier in the morning.
"Well, now that you're all tired, 10 of you will be playing a 5 on 5 game outside, and the remaining eight, which will be my presumed best rotation, will be playing a 4 on 4."
Everyone thought it was incredulous, because they were made to clean the facility, and then play ball in the heat without lunch.
However, since this is something they could handle, and it was their specialty, they were more than glad to do it.
"We go to the streets, first to 21 wins. Winning teams get pizza, on me."
Those words worked like magic. The upperclassmen were energized, and were raring to go.
But the freshmen were sluggish.
"You know, if the coach pays, you can order literally anything." Khalil whispered to the freshmen. Instantly, their spirits were raised by the revelation.
Even the perpetually tired Curtis, was enlightened by the fact.
***
Tremaine was watching his passes, after turning the ball over once already. It was not good for him—the primary playmaker, to make a lot of mistakes at the same time.
Especially in this asphalt court, where conditions are not the same as the normal hardwood floor.
It was really a battle on who adapts the fastest.
Even with his tremendous experience slogging it out on different playing surfaces, this current body of his had only really played on hardwood courts…
Tremaine rounded a screen, and dropped a pass into the path of Tarik, which in just a single dribble noticed Deshaun at the far corner, and swung the ball at him.
Tremaine wanted to establish their team's passing rhythm early, so that he won't be the only one gaining confidence for making plays happen, and moving the ball around.
After several more movement changes and passes around, Tremaine found himself free on the left corner of the paved court, after his marker Sean slammed into a rough off-ball screen from Tarik.
Deshaun sent a bullet cross court pass to the waiting arms of his buddy Tremaine, who proceeded to fire an uncontested shot beyond the arc… which only counted as a two pointer...
And make it perfectly.
Confidence.
If everyone's confident about their own skill, the probability of making errors in decision making decreases, thus allowing the team the freedom to perform to their peak ability on more possessions than not. Even in a street court.
Yes, it may lead to overconfidence if it rises even further, however if it reaches that point, Tremaine would start to exert control over the game, as the floor general.
But for now, they have to be confident and do what they can.
Quick, skillful basketball ensued, with both teams adapting in varying speeds to the rigors of the paved court.
Quandre Thornton looked absolutely unstoppable for the opposing team, growing up a battle hardened streetballer in the talent hotbed that is the city of Chicago. He was using his unique experience to gain advantages, even if it's too shameless, it kept on working against Andrews.
Tremaine too, was fantastic, which surprised his best friend Deshaun. They both grew up playing indoors so how could he be this good on this surface…
But maybe it's just a matter of who adapts better, he thought.
DJ was working hard as usual. He was learning whatever shamelessness Quandre was doing, and was expanding on it. He didn't have the brawn Quandre had, but as a teammate, he kept on feeding his hot hand.
The opposing team played the traditional streetball style.
No tactics, a lot of hero ball, ultra aggressive, a lot of dribbling, and positionless.
Their group trusted the directions of Quandre, whose streetballer DNA showed at every juncture of this game.
There were no free throws, and fouls were a lot less enforced. Elbows were flying, bodies were being pushed around, and hands were fighting, even in their group of close friends.
It was pretty much halfcourt streetball in its full glory.
Team Quandre held a two point lead, 8-6, when Samuel received the ball at the arc.
Samuel was struggling in every sense of the word. Matched up against Quandre's antics had taken its toll, and he's been grasping at straws for quite a while now.
He had never played in a concrete outdoor court before today, and it was showing. His movements were off the beat, and his usually quick thinking had slowed down somewhat. Being hounded by an aggressive Quandre made matters worse for the pampered young man.
"Do it man, shoot!" Quandre was taunting him. "Streetball is about showing your worth to the streets!"
He can't even gain the tiniest separation.
"Here." Tremaine ran behind him, forcing a handoff, easing his troubles.
He sent a sharp pass to Curtis, who was in the same boat, getting hounded by a much more athletic DJ.
But just like Tre on Samuel, Deshaun came to his instant rescue, before calmly rotating it back to Tremaine Mills.
Mills attacked Sean's right side, driving through the baseline in true streetball fashion, rising up for a reverse layup.
However, in accordance to the flair the street game requires, Tremaine laid it off to Tarik Diallo at the last possible second, with a no-look pass.
Jam.
8-7.
Since they're playing on classic 'make it, take it' rules, Tre's team regained possession again.
This time it was Deshaun inbounding.
"You okay?" Deshaun was honestly asking his opponent Kristian Geis, who'd been silent the entire time, as he passed him the ball for the mandatory check.
"Yeah, just burning up a little." Kris sent him the ball back, and play resumed.
Deshaun dribbled in place, something he never really did unless he's alone. He looked silly, but it's helping him adjust a tad bit more.
This is streetball after all.
Deshaun felt his hands get hot, so instinctively he hoisted up a triple without thinking much about it, only for it to clang off the right side of the rim…
It was awful shot selection.
Quandre easily boxed out Samuel and rifled a pass out to Sean, resetting the possession.
Abdoulaye Eze was posting up on Tarik Diallo and was calling for the ball like a madman that doesn't care about his life.
Quandre Thornton grinned. This is the kind of chaos that makes his blood pumping.
Sean lobbed the ball over to Abdoulaye, and as he tried his hardest to move the immovable rock that was Tarik, their coach's eyes looked like an unfathomable pool.
No one knew if he was approving of what he's seeing, or he's dismayed.
If he wanted his players to showcase their individual capabilities, or showcase their synergy, not a single soul actually knew.
All they know is that they have to win.
***
Extras:
At the University's lost and found.
A tall, orange-haired lady held an identification card with her hand. She was annoyed, because she wasted a lot of her time just to deposit it here.
Clearly, she doesn't want anything to do with this man.
'It doesn't matter if you're handsome, Tremaine Mills. I'm here to hunker down and study.'
She disregarded the small blush blooming in her face like it didn't exist at all, and walked away with firm steps.