The Illinois locker room was in an ecstatic mood postgame.
It was noisy to the point that one would think it was a rock concert rather than a locker room. There was even a rotating disco ball bathing the room with bright, multicolored lights in there somewhere.
They were celebrating the pulsating win against a ranked opponent in style.
They were jumping like they never had before, singing like drunkards, bathing in Gatorade, screaming at the top of their lungs, and dancing like disgraceful lunatics.
The players earned it. Especially after upending the fierce final comeback bid of the Tar Heels. It took them all they had to not squander the 3 point lead they held with less than two minutes remaining in the game.
A fire was lit underneath their bellies after that last timeout. However, it was not on the way Coach Roughan thought they would respond.
Instead of clamping down on them in defense, they matched their offensive firepower.
Fire against fire.
Right after the restart, Lamont Harris drilled a corner three, after wasting most of the shot clock. After Trent Powell returned the favor on the other end, the Tar Heels fouled Ryan Brown intentionally.
With a minute remaining, Ryan Brown buried both his free throws to re-extend the lead to five…
NC promptly made another three to cut it down to two once more. But failed to make Jaylen Mitchell miss on the isolation, tightly contested by Trent Powell, he still buried a fadeaway three in front of him.
At this point, the result was clear, with 15 seconds remaining, and the Illini lead shot back up to 5.
***
"Coach!" Taichi Kawashima went down to courtside and happily called his former coach. He owed this man more than just his short-lived collegiate basketball career.
"Kawashima, long time." Coach Roughan greeted his former player with a rare smile. Take note that his players didn't even manage to make this man smile with the win. "Are you slacking off at Harvard?"
"No, of course not, sir! I just want to see you all today!"
"How is this not slacking off? You go from Massachusetts to Illinois just to watch a game." The middle aged coach had no mercy for his student. "The game and the pleasantries are over, you should return from whence you came!"
Taichi snickered. "Don't be like that, old man! I just wanna see if you finally found a replacement for me after more than a season!"
Taichi was the ultimate sixth man two seasons ago. A utility player that could successfully fill any hole, plug any gap, and play all five positions with ease. His 6'7 frame, his uncanny versatility, and his impressive game knowledge helped a lot.
He could be a small ball center, a stretch 4, a prototypical small forward, a 3 and D wing, or a massive lead guard in any situation effectively. Sometimes he'd guard the best player, sometimes he's off to defend the most troublesome to defend.
Taichi was a luxury all coaches would love to have in their rosters.
But alas… he wanted to be an astrophysicist.
At some point in time before the end of Taichi's freshman season, Michael Roughan asked each and every one of his players what they wanted to do in the future.
Almost all of them wanted to play professional basketball in the NBA, or somewhere else.
Except one.
"Uhmmm… I wanted to... work for NASA." For the first time that year, Roughan saw Taichi Kawashima without his infectious confidence. It was like he's grappling with his decision alone.
"Okay." Michael Roughan was not a good emotional support, however his answer implied that he's fine with whatever his players thought. "Do you want to juggle the stringent academics of astrophysics and the ungodly practices of the basketball team?"
"If I could… yes… I would..."
The indecision in Taichi's face was clear to the middle aged coach.
"Leave the team after the season. Dismissed." Roughan made an instantaneous decision based on Taichi's body language, and everything he saw from him this past year. He had the qualities of someone that could juggle high standard academics, and egregious training, however, as a coach, and as a second father entrusted with the well-being and future of these lads, he couldn't bear to force him to continue.
"But coach!" Taichi burst out. "I still want to play basketball!"
"Send that Harvard transfer application. I'll help you get recommendations, it wouldn't be hard for a genius like you." Roughan knew what was up. Kawashima had been mulling for weeks now if he'd send his transfer application to Harvard or continue with this university's astrophysics program while playing basketball. "Go wherever your heart is, child. Don't let people around you tell you what you want to do."
Taichi then tore up in front of his coach. His heart knew what it wanted to do. It was a fact he could not ignore anymore.
"Thank you for your guidance, sir!" Taichi performed a deep bow of respect while his tears dropped into the carpeted floor.
Taichi will never forget everything Coach Michael Roughan had done for him during his freshman year and the year after that. He promised himself he would repay the trust with a diploma— or a double diploma.
But right now, he also wanted to reconnect with old friends, or at least what's left of them in the roster.
Knocking loudly on the door to the locker room, Taichi waited for several minutes without anyone opening the door.
It wasn't until the head coach himself arrived at the scene and without warning, nonchalantly unlocked the door, that he managed to enter.
Inside, was a scene that would never get old.
A topless Quandre was piggybacking Curtis, who held a camera overhead.
Legend laid there sleeping in the far corner of the wet floor.
Jaylen was casually watching replays of the match with Tremaine.
Miguel was belting Mexican songs with his beautiful pitch.
Sean was pouring drinks at the heads of his dancing teammates.
Khalil was unbelievably doing his homework right behind the rotating disco ball.
And the rest are dancing either topless, or in their boxer shorts in the middle.
It was pure chaos.
However, it was as if time had stopped when Coach Roughan walked into the delirious room. The players stopped in the middle of their wacky dance routine, Legend woke up, the replay stopped, Khalil dropped his homework, Sean subconsciously drank the drink he's pouring, and Curtis fell from Quandre's back.
The players were in shambles.
Taichi was in stitches.
***
Extras:
"Miguel, could your fantastic, tenor voice wake up Legend?" Deshaun cheekily asked while he danced to Miguel's catchy song.
Miguel slowly walked to the corner where Legend slept soundly. He looked down on him and went close to his ears.
Right when he was about to belt his high note, a flying fist almost smashed into his sorry face.
"Puto!" Miguel can't help but cuss, dodging by a skin of his teeth. He thanked his boxing training for that.
They won't try it again for sure.