The True Story

“What is your goal for this Finals?” I asked as my interview with LeKobe Durose finished up.

            “Well, I would like to sweep the series and get a triple-double every game,” Durose responded.

            “All right. Last question. Are there any special changes that might happen in the off season?”

            Our coach’s contract is expiring and there is a decent chance that it will not be resigned.” Durose responded with a slight bit of irritation toward his coach in his voice.

            “Thanks for the interview,” I said as I packed up my papers and my sound recorder and I headed out the door. I checked my phone. It was 5:30. 2 hours till tipoff.

            I walked briskly down the carpeted hall then out into the arena. I gazed out into the vast stadium. I looked with awe. After staring at the arena, I headed down to the bottom of the court and touched the wood. It was the perfect court. I stood up and decided to head to the pressroom. We were having a meeting in 30 minutes and I didn’t want to be late.

            I walked into the cool room. I set all my gear down and started to daydream of how I got here.

*                      *                      *

            There I was sitting in class watching the clock, waiting for the class to be over. I watched the second hand tick down, the sound of the “tick tock” matching the beat of my knee, which was going up and down. Finally, I heard the teacher tell the class to line up.

            I quickly grabbed my books and headed to the line. As I approached the line, my pencil bag slipped off my books and toppled to the floor.

            “Here ya’ go Tommy,” I heard my friend, Lolli, say as he picked up my bag and handed it to me. His real name is Franklin but everyone calls him Lolli due to his addiction of lollipops and gum.

            “Thanks,” I responded as I tossed my bag onto the pile of books that I held.

            I excitedly made my way down the hall. Now that math was done, I could work on my essay that I had been working on. I was writing an essay about why being a basketball coach would be the best job. I knew it was the best job, well that is what I think, but it was hard to show why it was. The essay was for a contest. The winner would get to be a reporter for the NBA Finals.

                                                *                      *                      *

            “Slam!” I heard the door slam shut. I jerked up and turned around to face the door. I saw Lolli and Mr. Hunter in the doorway. I felt the blood rush to my face after the embarrassment of being scared by a door. Lolli would have usually given me a hard time because I jumped, but since I had taken him to the NBA Finals he didn’t care.

            “Hey Tommy,” Lolli said as he walked over to me, “Where do we sit again?”

            I could tell that he already knew the answer but he was asking just so he could let it sink in.

            “Second Row, seats 8 and 9,” I responded.

            “Thanks,” Lolli said as he walked back out the door.

            “Hello Mr. Hunter,” I said smiling.

            “Hello Tom. So, who do you think will win?” Mr. Hunter asked.

            “Definitely Thunder.”

            “Ah, smart choice,” he said grinning.

            Mr. Hunter sat down across from me. We waited till the room was filled with all the people. Then, the meeting began.

            The whole time I was trying to pay attention, but it was too hard considering all the excitement built up in me. The meeting ended quickly though. After it ended I headed down and sat next to Lolli.

            “You ready?” he asked.

            “Yep.”

            I had made it back just in time to see the tipoff. The Thunder easily won the tip. Westbrook got the ball then passed to Durose for the open three. It was all net. This could be a blowout. The Thunder coasted to a 10-4 lead but then after a Pacer timeout, the Pacers went on a 14-2 run. Then the Thunder coach took Durose out.

            Boo! I could hear the crowd yell.

            “Why would they take Durose out?” Lolli thought out loud, “He was the only one doing good.”

            The rest of the half went by fast. At the end of the half, the Pacers were ahead 64-43. I couldn’t believe it. I tried not to believe it, but there it was; the Thunder were down by over 20. I looked down at my notes. Danny Granger had 16 points, 4 rebounds, and 5 assists. Durose had barely played and only had 8 points.

            I went over my notes during half and as soon as the Thunder came out, I called over Durose for a quick talk.

            “Excuse me Durose, what has happening that first half? I mean, how are you down by that much?” I asked.

            “This goes off record, but it is our coach. He is telling us the wrong stuff and when we do something good, he takes us out. It is almost like he doesn’t want us to win.”

            “Thanks, well you better win, and if Coach takes you out, sub yourself back in.” I responded kiddingly. “Well, I don’t want to keep you too long. Good luck with the rest of the game.”

            “Thanks kid,” Durose said. He walked back over and started shooting around.

            I sat back down. I waited for Lolli to come back from the snack bar. As soon as he appeared, I talked to him about the first half.

            The buzzer sounded. The second half was starting soon. Westbrook took the inbound and headed down the court. Perkins set a quick pick and Westbrook went in for the layup. But there to meet him was Gahol. Gahol ran up and stuffed Westbrook. The ball bounced out to Hall. He took the ball and drove down the court for a layup and, he too I thought, was going to get blocked, but he passed an oop to Granger at the last second. Granger caught it in midair and tomahawk slammed it on Westbrook for an and-1. I couldn’t stand it.

            “I’m heading back to the hotel,” I told Lolli. “I can’t stand to watch this anymore.”

            “All right,” Lolli responded, “I’ll see ya’ tonight.”

            I took at my phone as I walked up the cement stairs. I texted Mr. Hunter that I was going back to the hotel. Mr. Hunter was in charge of Lolli and I. He was a reporter and was the adult staying with us. He texted back OK so I headed to our hotel, which was across the street.

            I opened up the door and immediately I smelled the scent of fresh, clean sheets.     I set my garbage down on the counter and plopped down on my bed.

                                                *                      *                      *

            “Ern! Ern! Ern! Ern!” my alarm buzzed. I groggily rolled over and shut it off. I yawned, stretched out, and then looked at the time. 8:00. I sat up and flicked on the TV. SportsCenter was on. It had all the highlights of the game that Indiana had won, 126-92. After the highlights the press conference with the Thunder coach, Brian Talebrine, started.

            The first question I heard was, “Coach, were your players not prepared because your team did a terrible job on defense last night?”

            “Well,” Brian Talebrine started, “my players weren’t following the game plan I had set, so I was pulling them early.”

            I was shocked. Someone was lying. I thought about it. Durose seemed to hold a grudge toward the coach, but it had to be for a good reason. I had to find out what was going on.

                                                *                      *                      *

            The whistle for Game 2 blew. The ref threw the ball into the air and the Thunder won the tip. But I couldn’t believe it. Durose, this year’s MVP, was sitting on the bench.

            The Pacers easily took care of the Thunder in the first half. Granger, again, led all scoring with 14 points. Durose had 2 three pointers and that’s it. As the team went in for the first half, Durose stayed behind. I could tell in his face he was frustrated with something or someone. Slowly he made his way into the locker room.

            I still had a nagging suspicion that something was up. I decided not to finish watching the game this time again. I had some research to do on Talebrine.

            I grabbed my laptop and opened it up. I entered my password, surfchamp1, and then opened Google up. I searched, ‘Brian Talebrine personal records’. I opened up the first three links. The first link wasn’t what I was looking for. It just held his wins and losses and other stats. I closed that page out and looked and the second page.

            The second page was a jackpot. It held old accounts of Talebrine and how he used to gamble. It also gave the story of how he lost all his money betting. I called Durose and left him a message. I needed to talk to him.

            I sat in the cushioned chair, slouching, and waiting for Durose to arrive. I was looking at my new, green hyper dunks when I heard the door open. I looked up.

            “Hey kid,” Durose said, “I remember you. So, what is so important this time?”

            I came straight out with my question, “Is Talebrine throwing the Finals?”

            Durose looked at me as if I had emu heads crawling out of my ears. Then he looked toward the floor and answered quietly, “He bet fifty grand on the Pacers,”

            “Why didn’t you report him?” I asked confused and startled.

            “He is blackmailing me and he has a guy following me to make sure I don’t say anything.”

            “Oh, well I can call the cops right now,” I said waiting to see how Durose would react.

            “Ok,” He said almost like he didn’t care.

            “Well, I’m calling now,” I said as I picked up my phone.

            Suddenly the door burst open. Standing there was Durose’s security guard which who I just realized was probably the person Talebrine had sent to follow Durose around. I then noticed something. He was holding a gun.

            I shot my hands straight up into the air. He looked at me then at his gun.

            “Oops, sorry didn’t mean to scare you,” He said as he put the gun away. “I just heard something and I had to make sure that nothing happened.”

            “Oh few,” I said way relieved.

            “Is he…?” I asked Durose hoping he would understand what I meant.

            “Oh no. The guy who you are talking about keeps his distance but I noticed him.”

            “Ok well I’m calling now.”

            I picked up my phone and dialed the police chief’s phone number. He picked up and Durose and I explained the story.

            “Ok,” The Chief said, “I will be right over so I cant get full detail.”

            The police chief arrived and we told him the full story. Before long, the police found Talebrine and they found out that he had bet 50,000$ on the Pacers. Instead of taking a plane to Indiana for the next games of the Finals, he was stuck in a jail cell.

                                                *                      *                      *

            I laid in bed. Tomorrow I was going on a plane and flying to Indiana. Lolli was already asleep in the bed next to me. Mr. Hunter was snoring loudly and that was one of the reasons I couldn’t get to sleep. Finally, I started to drift off. But right as I was falling to sleep, my phone buzzed. It was a text. I looked and it was from Durose. It had six words on it, ‘you up for a coaching job?’

            I thought about it. I had always wanted to be a coach. But I had learned things lately. I decided what I was going to answer. I hit reply and sent back one word, ‘No’. I was having more fun being a what I was now.