Short Story by Jacob Ritter

“Tomas.” Ella grinned as she looked at me, a sense of admiration in her eyes. “How is it so hot here?  I thought Indiana was supposed to be cold?” Ella seemed to not understand that in America, hot and cold were a much bigger spectrum than back home. She’d never been here before, hadn’t even gone as far as leaving the European Union. It seemed ironic that the first time she left Europe would be to go with her future husband to an entirely different country for what may be the rest of her life. That was what I loved about Ella- her commitment to me.

“Guess so. Although I’ve heard Los Angeles is a heat death. We’re lucky we started here.”

“Not really,” She shot back. “I know that Carthage is a good school, but clearly you didn’t grow up watching La La Land. Can you do me a favor and get drafted to the Los Angeles Lakers? Or maybe the Knicks. I wouldn’t be bothered by either.” It always struck me how confident in me she was. She spoke about the NBA like it was definite, and not just a dream. I mean, getting into a college in America to play ball was hard enough as it is. A broke kid from Europe with a criminal record- it wasn’t like anyone wanted to see that kid on their roster. That’s why Carthage University was such a blessing.

“When I get drafted,” I replied “I will fly you out to wherever you want.”

The following days were days of getting settled in on campus. My NIL money that I received from the team was sparing, but it was enough to get me a little apartment in the suburbs of Indianapolis. 1 bathroom, 1 bedroom, fine with me and Ella, especially since it was a thirty minute drive from Carthage. Speaking of Ella, she was struggling to find a job in America, because she wasn't a citizen yet. We talked a lot about the possibility of getting married, but she opposed it. Marriage would come after we settled down, not as a means to get her a job.

I learned a lot about the school these days as well. As a name, Carthage is inspired by the ancient African city. It was founded by a man named Cain Damian, in order to inspire greatness in his students. Cain Damian’s life story was a fascinating one. A man desperately bored with being average in his 20s decided to cut everything off. The more wealthy and successful Cain’s business became, the more he ruined his own life. As his business grew, his mom, wife, and business colleagues all suffered and some died. Eventually, Cain would become one of the richest men in the world, but had nothing to spend that money on. Cain Damian’s story ended when he realized that he had messed up and threw himself off his balcony.

The end of the story, to me, seemed very messed  up. It was all culminating from the fact that he made no time for  his relatives, and his success only resulted in the suffering of who he loved most. It seemed to me, like a successful man with a cautionary tale to tell.

After about a week on campus, I got to meet the coach of the Carthage Bats, Freddy Johnson. He was tall, maybe 6’8” at the least, and had a bit of a beer belly with slicked back hair that was beginning to gray. He had a zip up hoodie with the Carthage Bats logo on the right and the Nike logo on the left. 

“Are you Tomas?” He asked as I walked through the front door of the office he'd told me to meet in.

“Yes.” I replied, trying to make my voice sound as American as I could. “Are you Coach Johnson? It’s great to meet you sir.” I reached out my hand to shake it, but he did something strange and kept his hands under his desk, not even acknowledging or looking at my outstretched arm he’d left hanging.

“People here call me Freddy.” He plainly stated, even though my hand was still up, he didn’t even give it any time of day. “I don’t really believe in formalities like that. To me, my respect for people on this team comes down to what you can do with basketball. That's the first thing I tell every one of my new recruits. I respect someone for seeing the hard work and leadership that they show on the court. If my players can’t be assertive, they may as well find a new school.”

This was some pretty cheesy stuff to hear out of a coach, nothing unlike what I’d been used to, but there was just one thing that bothered me- my hand was still waiting to be shaken. What should I do? I mean, most times I’d have put my hand down by now, because the receiving end just didn’t see the sign. But it was a solid 10 seconds now, and there’s no way he hadn’t seen it. He just gave this talk about being assertive. What if he wants me to keep it up to show that I am assertive? Or maybe I should put it down, because I could be overthinking it and he just doesn’t want to shake my hand. If this was a test, it was a pretty crappy one.

“You can put your hand down,” Freddy said. “It’s not like me shaking your hand is gonna make me want to start you more or something.” So he knew it was a test for me, but did I pass? Or was there nothing to it? Maybe I was overthinking.

The rest of our meeting went well. Just talking out the values of the team, the season opener, and first practice. It seemed like an organization dedicated to winning and developing talent. 

Carthage won the March Madness one time, in 2008. It was a famous final match, because 5 Carthage players had been injured and by some miracle, they managed to win. Since then, Carthage has been trying to rebuild their organization after their coach at the time tragically passed and nearly every player on the team transferred out of the school. It was one of the most peculiar March Madness moments, and put Carthage on a national scale as a D1 basketball program for one of the first times. I was so excited to win this game.

My first practice was like an absolute blur. I met 2 other freshmen named Jaylen and Eli who seemed pretty nervous. I can only hope I looked less nervous than them that first day. The hoops looked very fresh, and the court was shiny, with the red bats logo popping out on each baseline. It looked like a typical well kept gym, and at the center stood Coach Freddy and another man in front with him who I didn’t know. Behind the two stood maybe 7 other men in either a Carthage hoodie or a Carthage t-shirt. In with me came the players, and I immediately noticed I might need to get in the weight room- these guys were huge.

“Welcome everyone,” shouted Coach Freddy “or welcome back, to the Carthage Bats. Let's give it some energy.” At that  point, everyone in the gym shouted and clapped their hands. This was a point of excitement that most basketball teams experienced, and for me, it definitely calmed my nerves. I was really here in America, living my dream since I was 6 years old. Part of me hadn’t even let that sink in, that I had really made it here, and in that one moment, I felt the most hope I’d feel for the rest of my life.

“Listen up,” Continued Coach Freddy. “I’m so happy to be back here with some of you guys, and to welcome in new transfers and freshmen. It’s going to be a pleasure competing here with you guys. In case you don’t know, this is Coach Hans, he’s our new assistant coach.” Freddy gestured toward Hans, and Hans put a hand up to say hi to everyone. “Right now the plan is a practice everyday, but that is subject to change of course. I want to make clear that just because some of you got a full-ride scholarship, it doesn’t earn you a spot on the team. Me and the school leaders here at Carthage are perfectly fine leaving you with a full-ride scholarship and no spot on the team. That means no distractions while we’re here. I’ve been coaching this organization for 15 years, and this year I’m putting everything into a national championship. Let’s start with some introductions, everyone.”

We all went around and introduced ourselves, and it gave me a chance to scout out my teammates. A huge 6’3” dude with crazy looking calves. A slim 7-footer who wore some basketball shoes I didn’t recognise. To them, I was probably the small Swedish dude standing away from everyone else.

“I’d say that’s plenty for icebreakers.” Freddy said. “Now let me teach you about our core value on the team- taking charges. Taking a charge is when, as a defensive player, you stand completely still, and draw a foul by letting the defense run into you. It’s a very smart defensive play, and my favorite thing to teach because it shows the vulnerability of a player, a willingness to sacrifice their body to win and perform well. That should explain the gentlemen behind me. I’ve brought out players from the football team here, and you’re going to need to practice taking charges.”

My first practice hurt like hell. I had enormous people ramming into me over and over again, and all I could do was just take it. The whole time, coach Freddy and coach Hans just stared, watching us take hits for 1 and a half hours before they called it for practice. I wish I’d had a chance to play at least, but it was still thrilled that I’d finally gone D1. Now I had to keep my role.

Our first game came very soon and, unfortunately, all those pep talks seemed to run out. We were playing our in-state rivals, the Indiana Hoosiers, and they caught us by surprise in a way we never made up for. Freddy told us he’d do anything to help us win in the future, and I could see the truth in what he was saying in his eyes, he wanted to win more than anything else. I personally was doing ok, dropping 10 points with 4 assists in my debut. It only sucked that my first college game came in a 15 point loss.

Our second, third and fourth college games didn’t go much better. I was averaging 10.9 with 4.8 assists now, with zero wins in 4 games. Coach Freddy was fuming after the fourth. We had a 10 point lead going into halftime, only to lose everything in the second.

“We’re not using anything I’ve taught you. This is ridiculous. Nobody here is taking charges- what happened to that? Everybody, this is truly ridiculous. Why are we relying on Tomas to have great games as a freshman to not even win? Seniors, step it up. Juniors, step it up. This is truly insane. You know where we were ranked before the season started. 30th in the country. Wonder where we are now? I’ll just tell you, it's past 100. Can we even make the tournament with how you’re playing right now? I had my sights on a championship with this team, and it seems like I should aim for a win first. I don’t want to go to extremes to win. Now I have no choice.”

There was no argument with what he was saying. Freddie had been calm for our other losses, but now it was warranted. I didn’t know what to do. I wasn't good enough to get on anybody's draft board at this time, and the team wasn’t good enough to get a win. I just couldn’t win. Coach Freddy called me into his office at 11:30 PM last night, and I left Ella watching La La Land by herself to visit his office.

“Good evening, Freddy.” He started. “I was hoping to talk to you about some of my thoughts recently. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Not at all.”  I replied. “This team is my number one priority.”

“Okay.” He said calmly. “Listen, I haven’t told anyone about my personal life, but I think you deserve to know. I’m sure you’ve heard of my run to the finals with the Miami Heat in 2008.”

“I have for sure.” I said, happy to finally bring it up. “You looked like a superstar. I mean, the Heat were going nowhere that season and you took them to the finals.”

“It's funny,” Freddy said, though there wasn’t a smile on his face. “We started the season 3-12. Nobody thought we had a chance to even make the playoffs. At that 3-12 mark, I decided I was tired of losing. I cut everything off in my life. My family, my passions, everything for just that one year in the hopes of doing something. What do you know? Those playoffs were the best basketball of my life. By far. I never came close to what I did in those playoffs. I went to every measure, the most extreme of measures just to win. Do you remember what happened in those finals?”

“You got swept.”

“That's right.” He said. “I played 3 of those 4 games. I didn’t once imagine we’d lose, even after the 3rd loss. What a lot of people don’t know is, I got in a car accident after game 3. That’s why I didn’t play, and that’s the reason injuries forced me into early retirement. The point is, this is the best team I’ve ever been on. This year’s Carthage Bats. For some reason, we’re not winning games. The only  bright spot in the team is you. That's what I’ve been getting to. For the next 6 months, I need you to pour everything into this game. Because you’re my main piece. You’re getting far more usage from here on, so you need tp be absolutely on point from. Any distractions, anything keeping you from your goal, you need to cut it out. You’re all I have Tomas. That will become increasingly true only as time goes on.”

I knew what he meant. I had to be in the gym more. I had to be great. Ella wouldn’t like it, but she had that unwavering faith in me that kept me going. It wasn’t an option for me to lose more. The only choice I had was to win.

“Yes Coach.” I said quickly. “There’s no way I'll let you down now that I know this. You better bet when I see the man barreling down the lane at full speed that I’ll jump in front and take that charge for you, ok?”

“Very good,” Coach said. “I hope you mean that, because I know you’ll want to quit as the year goes on.”

“No way.” I said sharply. “You have my word on that coach. I won’t quit this program. Carthage gave me a home in America where I didn’t have one, and  I’ll never lose sight of that.”

From that night on, I was in the gym everyday. My jumpshot felt like the most routing thing I could possibly do, and that weight room I realized I had to get in? I was in it now. Everything I did everyday was only so I could get better at this game. 

The team became far more stressful as well. Freddy was tight wound about everything, and seemed to truly embody doing everything he could for the team. By the time of our next game, I was the most confident I’d ever been, and it showed. 25 points and 10 assists, and it didn’t feel like I was trying. It was the most automatic I’d felt, like I wasn’t even trying to do well. It just happened. Of course, we did win the game, and it set an example for every game from there. 

We won 12 games in a row, making us 12-4 on the year, squeezing us back into having march madness odds. But it wasn’t over. 14 more games until our conference tournament started, and we had to win as much as we could until then. But the team culture wasn’t great. I was distancing myself from the other players, because they were distractions. There was outrage because 6 players had been cut from the team, and that left our 4 injured players to shoulder more weight than they could carry.

You’d think that team wouldn’t win, but we did. We lost 3 more games on the year, making us 23-7 in our regular season. It didn’t by any means guarantee us march madness. If we lost our first game of the conference playoffs, we may as well take an early vacation. We managed to make our way to the conference finals, and it sure did have big stakes. If we were to win, we’d clinch a spot in March madness. But if we lost, we’d have to cross our fingers and hope for the best on draw night.

On game day, I was shooting around in the morning and checked my phone to see 7 missed calls from Ella. That was unlike her, so I called her back.

“Tomas,” She said urgently. “I fell off my bike and I’m hurt. I was on the way to a job interview and this idiot stepped in front of me. I’m at the university hospital.”

I rushed to go see her, and it was insane. The hospital was in panic because the school board all resigned without talking to anyone and disappeared from campus. Nobody knew what to do. Ella luckily had a minor injury, and we worked to get her out of the hospital as quickly as possible. But by the time we got out, it was 4:30 and my game started at 5. I’d gotten distracted and rushed to get to my game. I made it right before tip off and had to jump straight in.

The game was a nightmare. I’d never played a worse game in my life. We got absolutely killed from the jump, and all those injuries caught up to us. The only player that played well was Jay, our 7-footer center. Freddy was fuming. 

“As if I haven’t done enough. As if everything done has made no difference. You’d better absolutely pray that we make March Madness. If we don’t, I don't even know what I’ll do.”

I knew what was necessary from there. I had to cut out my last distraction.

“What do you mean, I’m distracting you?”

“I’m sorry, Ella,” I said slowly. “But my chances of winning the tournament and making the league go lower with you in my life.”

“If that’s true,” Ella said. “Why would you fly me out to a country where I have no job, money, or connections, on the premise that I’ll be your wife and you’ll support me.”

“Things change.” I straight up told her. “Not much more I can say.”

Once the time came, we did make march madness. It was the craziest month of my life. First game, easy win. Before the second game, Assistant Coach Hans left the team. Regardless, that was an easy win too. In the third game I had a career high of 48 points in an 8 point win. The problem is, only 8 players were still active. Our roster was wrecked with injuries and only 2 starting players were left- me and Jay.

In the fourth game, the quarterfinals, Jay fell and ruptured his achilles in overtime. Luckily, we were winning by enough to pull it out. By now, all of the starting 5 were injured. I needed to play the best basketball of my life to scrape out a win. In the semifinals it was the tightest game I’d ever played. Midway through the fourth quarter, an accident happened and the dean of Carthage choked on his food and had to go to the hospital. Despite the distraction, we pulled away late in the game.

Just like that, we were in the national championship.

This was all I thought about for weeks. The final moment.

“I’m so sorry for how cruel these weeks have been to you, boys.” Freddy told us. “But now it all comes to an end. Tomas. You’d better play like this is the last game of your life. Because it could be.”

A weird way to say play hard, but ok.

In the first quarter, they came out with momentum, powering their way through our defense. In the second quarter, we fought back much as we could, with great passing and ball movement. In the third quarter, we both fought incredibly hard, our underpowered squad fought against their super team. With 1 minute left in the game, it was all tied.

They brought the ball down, swung it to my defensive assignment, and I guarded him to the best of my abilities. He put up a midrange jumpshot and missed it. We called a timeout. One last chance to score with 40 seconds left. Coach Freddy took me aside.

“Listen.” He said. “You must understand it’s out of a desire to win. You made your sacrifices, and I made mine.”

“What do you mean?”

“I will do anything to win, Tomas. Understand that when all these people disappeared, got injured, it was to protect you. It was all to win.”

“Are you saying you killed them? The missing players?”

“I did what I had to do. Now go make it worth it.”

This was twisted. Rotten. But there was nothing I could do right now but win.

I came down strong on the next play and scored 2 to get us ahead. On the next play with 5 seconds left my teammate got beat.

He barreled down the lane, and I realized what I had to do. If I take a charge, we win.

I stepped in front of my man, took the hit.

But then I felt a twinge in my heart, and immediately fell to the floor. This was a heart attack. Then I understood it.

I was the final sacrifice.