Swoosh! Brandon watched as the ball glided through the net, then hustled over to the next shooting spot and squared up. As soon as Ronny had rebounded the ball and got it back into Brandon’s hands, the ball was in the net. Swish! The same pass, the same result - through the bottom of the net. Swoosh! This time, Brandon didn’t need Ronny to rebound for him. He grabbed the ball, took two dribbles, and slammed home a vicious 360 dunk. He hung, precarious, on the rim for a few seconds, and then dropped to the ground. Ronny laughed before declaring jokingly, “When are you going to enter the dunk contest, man? The number one high-school recruit in the nation can’t waste his talents on local beat-up gyms.”

Brandon didn’t bother replying, instead, he picked up another ball, ran towards the hoop, and threw the ball at the backboard. He caught it gracefully as he was going up and put it through his legs before windmilling it into the basket. Ronny chuckled and answered his own question, “Soon, I hope.”

“Get me the ball, man. Thanks for your enthusiasm, but I’m not going to any dunk contest if I can’t get the shooting down first. I’m shooting threes now.”

The two guys kept at it, but Ronny’s job was easy, as Brandon made virtually every shot. All he had to do was sit under the basket and catch the ball as it slid through, as flawless as water being poured through a sieve. Brandon was as swift as a butterfly when shooting but as strong as an ox in stature.

“You’re a beast, Brandon. You can play virtually every position, your basketball IQ is through the roof, and your potential is limitless. I would be disappointed if you go anywhere besides the best college in the States.”

“I know what you mean, but I think the best thing for me is to go somewhere where there are no expectations, the team aspect is there, and we can learn and grow together. I know I’m talented, but why go to a team that doesn’t need me? Thanks for your encouragement, but you don’t need to tell me what I already know. I’d give anything to go to a low-profile, integrity-based team where we could shock everyone with a title. I covet teams like the boring Spurs or the surging Hawks. They win because they’re team.”

Ron looked at him, stunned. Why wouldn’t Brandon want to go to a championship caliber team? He was a competitor. What happened to his winning nature? Ron stayed deferential but responded with scrutiny, “Why would you rather lose and work hard to build a team than have fun winning?”

“That would be fun, but I’m not looking for fun. I’m looking for a challenge; somewhere I’ll get better and develop my skills. Where I can be a leader and consistent supporter whatever the circumstance. Where I can have fun winning but be okay with losing. Whatever or wherever it takes to be a team and win a championship.”

“You have scholarships from the top schools in the nation! They all want you! Why would you not go to one of them? There, everything is quality and high level. With your talent, that’s a perfect match! Or you could even stay here and we can go to the University of Arkansas together.”

“Ron, I don’t want to argue. I appreciate your input, and I’ll consider your ideas, but you can’t tell me where to go. I would love to stay right here and be with my family and friends. But something inside of me says that’s not right.”
Brandon finished his three point practice and walked to the gym’s doors. He turned back and picked up a ball, firing it from behind half court with perfect form towards the hoop. He looked back towards the door and started leaving. “See ya, Ron.”

He never looked back, but before he had even stepped out of the door, the ball dropped through the hoop straight into Ron’s hands.

As Brandon walked home, he recounted his shootaround with Ronny. He had considered this moment for a long time. He knew he was special as soon as he had started being scouted by colleges in the eighth grade, at only 12 years old. He started dunking at 14, and made that a privilege; only after he had practiced his routine shots and worked through the team’s plays with his father. He would practice for hours to hone his instincts and perfect his game. He remembered how he would mull over his favorite colleges, indecisive. He could never choose between top programs, but looked up to players like Kevin Durant and Paul Millsap who played for the big winners.

Now, graduated from high school, the chaotic selection process was upon Brandon. Except that he hadn’t ever felt compelled to devote his talent to any of these top schools. He’d seen quite a few of them play on his scouting trips, and they’d looked fun, but something just wasn’t there. There wasn’t enough team in the players. On the contrary, he’d gone to visit a local college, a bad team in the books. Even so, he loved it. They played with effort, enthusiasm, and most of all, they clicked as a team. That drew him in more than the money and popularity of the big league schools. Brandon knew that he would not attend a blue blood school. He wanted to lead a small school to a championship against the odds. The thing was, he didn’t know which one. Selection day was tomorrow, so he knew he should choose now, but he didn’t feel like it. He fell onto his bed, restive and unsure. He finally fell asleep with a vision of himself in a blue and green uniform, attacking the rim with a shattering dunk to surge a crowd.

~~~

“I’m going to Florida Gulf Coast University.”

Brandon looked on from his front row seat in the auditorium, watching a fellow graduating class member choose his college. Brandon seemed to recognize him from a run-in at the Oklahoma State game he was scouting. He was in Brandon’s graduating class and ranked 56th in the player rankings. Brandon had never heard of Florida Gulf Coast, but from the man’s face, he assumed it must be a great place.

Ronny was seated to his left, and his mother and father were on his right. Brandon’s turn was up after two more guys. He turned to Ronny and whispered, “Florida Gulf Coast?”

Ronny smiled a fake, then replied, “You’re joking, right?”

Brandon grinned and then turned to look at his father. Clearly Ronny would be no help in Brandon’s decision. His parents were equally disappointed about Brandon not wanting a top college. They said they would support him in whatever choice he made, but he wasn’t absolutely convinced. They obviously didn’t understand his logic.
He looked up at the player on stage and realized his big moment was here.

Except he wasn’t up next. An announcer walked to the stage and explained that there would be a short break before the last selection, Brandon’s. He stood and glanced over to where the FGCU recruit stood, talking to a man in a suit. He had to find out why the kid was so happy. Brandon knew his name, Tyrone, and waited for him to finish his conversation. Then he quickly said “hi” to him and walked over to the man in the suit. “Hello, sir, I assume you’re for FGCU?”

“Yes, I’m Chad Speaker, assistant coach at FGCU. You’re Brandon Troy, right?”
“Yep, great to meet you!”
“The six-seven forward prodigy the whole country’s raving about. Ditto, nice to finally meet you in person, Brandon.”
They shook hands and then cut to the chase.
“Mr. Speaker, Tyrone and I met at an Oklahoma State game in March. How come he’s going to FGCU?”
“He liked the values of the school. Also, he wasn’t exactly a huge fan of bigger colleges. He thought FGCU fit him well, and we do, too. His team-centered, hard-working, and ultimately upset-minded personality corresponds to FGCU’s core values.”
At that, Brandon’s heart skipped a beat. Team-centered? Hard-working? Upset-minded? He knew instantly exactly where he was going.
“We’d love to have such a talented prospect as you lead our race for a championship together with our other guys in Dunk City. Good luck wherever you go!”
Dunk City? That sounded right. Good luck wherever? No. Brandon knew that his destiny lay at FGCU. Except for one thing.
“Sorry Mr. Speaker, one last thing. What are Florida Gulf Coast’s team colors?”
“They’re blue and green. Good luck!”

~~~

Brandon had gone right ahead choosing, having no doubts that FGCU was his college. Then and there, Brandon had made two major decisions for college basketball and for his life: the first, disappointing major colleges and their fans by choosing the underrated Florida Gulf Coast University, and second, doing his best to bring a championship to Dunk City.

Once on campus, Brandon checked into his room and then headed for the gym, as coach Speaker had instructed him. When he got in, he found that Coach Speaker was not the only one in the room. As a matter of fact, quite a few tall, strong men stood around as well. Speaker was the first to talk, saying “Thanks for coming down, Brandon. We understand you’re going to be a big part of our basketball program, but for us, an even bigger part is team. Meet them.”

He waked to a big dark guy who looked around six nine or ten with black stubble for hair and deep eyes. “This is Dominik Blackwood, number 28. We call him Niko.”
As Speaker walked on, Brandon shook Niko’s hand and said that he was excited to suit up with him. Speaker moved on to a point guard, around six foot 2 inches, and told Brandon his name was Mikoláš Lynton, number 5, from the Ukraine. Speaker whispered to Brandon something about him being a beast and then told him to call him Mik. Brandon shook his hand and then said “zdrastuyte,” hello, and Mik smiled.

Brandon walked to Tyrone, a familiar face in a sea of new ones. He man-hugged him and then said, “This is Tyrone Howard, seven foot power forward, number-”

“Eight.” Speaker finished for him. “He’ll be a great partner in crime with Niko defending the paint. And lastly,” Coach Speaker moved on to a guy with crossed arms who looked around six five and explained, “This is Aaron Cartwright, Jr., number 14, the basketball cornerstone of our team. He’s a five-star shooting guard who throws it down almost as much as he shoots. We call him Junior.”

Brandon low-fived him and then looked at Coach Speaker, who pointed at him and announced, “Team, this is Brandon Troy, six foot seven inch small forward with enough skill to blow the socks off an ESPN sports analyst if he’s not careful. He’ll be joining us in our pursuit of the championship and trying to fit in, please make him welcome. Brandon has decided to wear number 17. We have big hopes for him and for all you guys this year. Shoot around a bit to help Brandon adjust to the gym, and then we’ll meet with the head coach at 7 after dinner tonight.”

After his orientation and shoot-around, Brandon showered, ate, and then walked with the team to the main coaching office. They walked in and listened to the head coach, Joe Dooley,  talk about their motto, their game plan, and their goals. He explained that there would be tests, but that he believed they would overcome them. He reiterated that he was glad to have each and every one of them on the FGCU team, and excused them.

Brandon continued to practice and grow with his team, leading them as he had promised through tough game after game. He also kept up and strengthened his relationships throughout the team, and their chemistry grew to new limits. He studied hard and got grades enough to keep him in basketball, but balled even harder, helping the team to a 28-2 record. When it came time for one of their biggest challenges at home against number one ranked Kentucky, Brandon was ready.
Blue and green. FGCU colors. Brandon Troy, himself, was going to lead the Eagles to the championship. In those colors. With his team. After all the hard work and effort put in. Now was the time to win.

Kentucky won the opening tip and opened strong, dominating the game to go up by 20 at halftime. The Eagles walked off the court for the break with heads low and pride diminished. Maybe they weren’t the right team. Maybe they weren’t cut out to win the championship. Brandon, especially, doubted, thinking at several points that he should never have come here. Ronny was right, these guys couldn’t win when it came to big games. The team walked into the locker room sullen, knowing coach Dooley’s attitude wouldn’t be good. They were right.

“What was that? I’m not gonna break it to you guys lightly. You looked horrible, he pointed out with asperity.
An ominous start to a motivational talk.

“But that’s not you. That’s not how we play. We’re FGCU. We play as a team, we work hard, and we win. You got this, just believe you do. Fight for the victory, knowing it will be worth it.” He brought the team together and started the cheer, “One, two, three...”

“...Eagles.” The team finished the cheer and then ran onto the court, motivated again. They opened the half on a 17-3 run, with Brandon making 2 threes and a dunk from Junior’s pass, Niko had 5 points, a dunk and an and-one layup with the free throw, and Junior dunking twice. They were getting closer, and the crowd was fired up.

FGCU pulled within 1, and then with 7 seconds left, the referee called a horrible foul on Junior when a Kentucky player had driven to the hoop. He hadn’t even touched him, but from some angles it looked like he had slapped the player. On the replay, the Kentucky player had clearly flopped, but there was nothing the ref could do about it. Kentucky got the free throws.

The fouled player made the first and made it a 65-63 game. he squared up for the second free throw, shot, and missed. Niko grabbed the rebound and threw it down the court to Junior. He stopped, faked a shot, and then threw it over to Brandon. His instincts overruled his nerves as he rose to shoot a three pointer. It swirled through the air in perfect revolutions until it reached the rim. And dropped through the net.

The crowd exploded into joy, and Brandon couldn’t believe it. He’d just made the game-winning basket! FGCU had beaten Kentucky! His teammates dogpiled him until they were all out of breath. He hadn’t won the game, they had. When he had given up, they had encouraged him. When the game was on the line, they had given him the ball. He stood up and hugged every one of them in turn, smiling the whole time.

~~~

“FGCU has just beat Kentucky and written some history with a new best record in their school years. With this win, they have placed themselves in the 1 seed in the South bracket round of 64. Good night and thanks for coming, fans!”
Brandon contemplated the announcer’s words after his team’s stunning victory. He had finished with 6 rebounds, 4 assists, and 23 points in the win. They had come through to beat Kentucky. But how would they fare with other elite teams? They certainly couldn't beat all the top schools, and definitely not in the finals. They just weren’t good enough. They couldn’t do it.

A kind voice pulled him out of his thoughts, “Hey, Brandon. Nice shot. That definitely proves we have the potential to make it to the championship. We’ll be champs by the end, yeah?”

Brandon feigned a smile to hide his real feelings and replied, “Yeah, we have a good chance. With our team, I know we can do it.”

“That’s the spirit, man! See you at the championship!”

Brandon wanted to feel happy, but he couldn’t. He honestly didn’t think it could happen. He tried not to be a kill-joy and to get his mind off of it. He went back to his dorm and laid down, hoping he would forget about basketball, but he couldn’t.

~~~

MSG. Madison Square Garden. Where players light up and fans make you deaf. That’s where the championship game was held. In Madison Square Garden Arena in New York. The iconic “Mecca of basketball.” Where only the elite of the elite could win and only the best teams ever entered. And Brandon was in Madison Square Garden. He couldn’t believe that FGCU had ever gotten so far, but now it was crazy.

FGCU had stormed through the NCAA tournament to the championship game, boasting wins over North Carolina State, Iowa State, Ohio, Arizona, and finally, Duke. They had won their games and kept up their confidence. They had grown as a team even in that short time and had enough chemistry that they could read each other’s minds. Except that Brandon didn’t feel the excitement. He felt horrible that he couldn’t share in the team’s victories, and wanted a way out of this. But he couldn’t help but feel hopeless. If he had led his team all this way, what would happen if they lost? No one would forgive him. He could never be seen anywhere near the state of Florida again. Even though he had been averaging 21.8 points and 7.9 rebounds in the tournament alone, he felt useless. He couldn’t stand it anymore. If his team lost, it would be the end. But he couldn’t show that to his teammates. He had to look like he was fine and happy. After hitting his head against his locker in disgust, he composed himself and walked onto the court.

Niko won the tip, so it was FGCU’s ball to start. Brandon ran to where he was supposed to go and caught a pass from Mik. He cut around the defending Baylor Bear and then jumped up for a layup. He landed hard on his right ankle and fell to the ground, clutching it in pain. He was dragged into the locker room and evaluated quickly by the medical analyst. Brandon had no hope. His championship hopes were over. He took off his jersey and threw it on the floor.
The doctor told him that it was a small ankle roll but that if he could walk, it wasn’t severe. He didn’t want to risk it and laid down on the stretcher. His championship hopes were over. There was no way he would be able to get back in from this. He had just gone over how he would not watch the end of the game when Mikoláš walked into the locker room. Brandon looked up at him and said, “Hey man, what are you doing? Get back into the game, they need you to win the championship!”

But Mik only stopped and replied, “Brandon, this isn’t about winning. This is about team. And if a teammate is down, we support him.” Suddenly, the door opened and the whole team walked in.
“What are you guys doing! Aren’t you holding up the game?”
Tyrone looked at coach Speaker before telling Brandon, “We called a timeout and came to encourage you. Nothing against that in the rules!”
At that moment, Brandon remembered the whole reason he had come to FGCU. Team. Hard work to win a championship. Chemistry. And he had new hope. They were going to win.

“Thanks, guys.” Brandon looked at the whole team. “We’re going to win.”
He jumped to his feet, but realized mid-air that he would land hard on his ankle and possibly hurt it bad. He cringed as he landed, but when he landed, there was no pain, only a little soreness.
“How does it feel?” Coach Dooley asked.

“I can play, coach!”

Brandon quickly put on his blue and green jersey and walked with the team to the court. As he stepped out of the locker room, the crowd cheered loudly. He was going to win this championship today, with his team.
He played as hard as he could and left everything on the court. He was dropping threes left and right, and whenever he wasn’t, he was setting up a teammate for a dunk or slamming one home himself. Even so, Baylor was matching them basket for basket.

With 14 seconds left, Baylor brought the ball down the court up by one, 78-77. They didn’t have to shoot, so they stalled, dribbling and passing around. But one of their passes went too off target and Junior picked it up. He sprinted down the court with two seconds left and passed to Brandon. He stepped around a Baylor player and rose off the ground with half a second.

Time stopped. Suspended, he thought about all it took him to get here. The hard work. The team building. The sacrifice. The practice. It had all been worth it. The whole reason he came here was to win, and he was about to. He had achieved his goal: friendships, a team, new integrity as a man. Except one thing still eluded him.

He brought his arm down hard and slammed the ball home. As soon as it dropped through, the buzzer sounded. It was over. They had done it! The Eagles had won their first ever championship! Brandon had reached his goal. The vivacious crowd was out of their seats with joy, and the team was too. They surrounded Brandon and hugged him as hard as they all could. They could barely hear the announcer as he screamed, “The final score is 79-78, and the Florida Gulf Coast University Eagles have won the NCAA tournament championship!”