As the tournament final approached its last few days, the intensity of practice escalated. The air in the gym was thick with tension, and each player felt the weight of what was at stake. The sound of basketballs hitting the hardwood echoed through the gym, interrupted only by the occasional bark of Coach Anderson's commands. Jamar was in the middle of a shooting drill, his body tense, his focus razor-sharp. Mark, one of his teammates, was assigned to guard him, waiting for the whistle to sound and signal the start of the drill.
"Fweeee!"
The sharp sound of the whistle pierced through the gym. Instantly, Jamar and Mark exploded into motion, their feet shuffling rapidly as they sprinted toward Coach Anderson, who was holding the ball. Jamar's speed gave him an edge, and he reached the ball first. Mark, already on the back foot, quickly moved into position to guard him, cutting off any attempt Jamar might make to drive toward the hoop.
