Home of Mickey Minner

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

CHAPTER ONE

Patricia Calvin sat in the first row of the second tier of seats that ringed the arena, the location providing her a perfect view of the action taking place on the court below. She wasn’t happy to be where she was, scouting talent for the Missoula Cougars, the women’s professional basketball team that she coached. But the owner of the team had insisted she check out one of the players on the local amateur team. Pat was sure it was most likely at the insistence of the owner’s niece, her administrative assistance and the woman sitting beside her, that she had been forced to spend most of the day cooling her heels in airport lounges waiting out extended gaps between connecting flights.

“Well, what do you think of her?” Mandy Christopher asked excitedly. “Isn’t she wonderful?”

Pat frowned, wondering if her assistant had been watching the player’s lackluster performance or had simple been checking out her lithe body. It wouldn’t be the first time Pat had been forced to take on a player her assistant lusted after. She decided this would be the last time though; she planned to have a talk with her boss as soon as she got back to Missoula.

“Well?” Mandy insisted, interrupting Pat’s thoughts.

“She doesn’t put forth much effort,” Pat grunted.

“Why should she?” Mandy huffed. “Look at what she’s having to play against,” she sneered, “and with.”

Pat had been looking. In fact, she had been having trouble keeping her attention on the player because of the spirited play of the point guard on the same team. Pat forced her attention back to the player Mandy was discussing. After all she had enough guards on her roster and wasn’t looking to add any more.

“I’m not impressed,” Pat grumbled, having no intention of explaining her reasons to her assistant.

“Doesn’t matter,’ Mandy smirked. “Mac said to invite her to tryout camp.” Mac being her aunt, Martha Ann Christopher, and the owner of the Cougars. “Come on, the game is over,” Mandy leaped to her feet before the final buzzer had proclaimed the official end of the contest. “I’ll go down and give her the good news.”

“No,” Pat stopped her assistant before she could leave. “You go get the car and pick me up out front. I’m tired and the sooner I get this over with, the sooner we can get to the hotel and I can get some sleep.”

“But,” Mandy started to protest.

“I can handle this, Mandy,” Pat’s tone was sharp. “You go get the car.”

Knowing better than to push her luck with the coach, Mandy sulked towards the stairs that led to the arena’s main corridor and eventually to the exits.

Pat watched the young woman go wondering again why she had allowed herself to be saddled with the worthless assistant. Shrugging, she shoved the notebook she used to jot down her observations during the game into the soft-sided brief case she carried. Then she stood and took the stairs in the opposite direction, making her way down to the court’s hardwood surface. Several of the departing fans recognized her, some smiling or muttering a shy greeting as she passed.

Patricia Calvin had enjoyed a stellar basketball career. After being named Montana State high school player of the year for three years, she had attended her home town university and helped win national championships in her junior and senior years earning the honor of being the tournament MVP and a Kodak All American in the later. Fully intending to continue her career on the professional level, her dreams came to an abrupt end during a weekend pick up game a few days after graduation. While executing a spin move, her right shoe stuck on the asphalt court surface and, unable to withstand the pressure of the abnormal twist, her knee blew out. Surgery fixed the leg enough for her to walk but she would never be able to play again.

Dejected over the loss of her dream, Pat had spent her months of rehab struggling to come up with a plan for her future. She came home one day to find a message on her answering machine from Mac offering her an assistant coach’s position with the Cougars. She wasn’t a fool, she knew immediately what the offer was truly meant to be, a way for the Mac to fill the empty seats for the team’s games. Hometown heroes pulled in lots of fans, even if they were only assistant coaches.

After considering her options, Pat accepted the offer and was surprised to find out she had a knack for coaching. Her playing experience gave her insight to how the players approached the game and she was able to reach them in ways others hadn’t thought of. Two years later, the head coach accepted an offer from another team and Mac promoted Pat to replace her. She had been proud to coach the team all the way to the quarter-finals of the league championship that first year. Now she was set to start tryout camp with the talented athletes she had personally picked to mold into a team that would go all the way to the championship.

That is, she had picked all but one of the players who would start camp. And the one who wasn’t her choice didn’t appear to have the motivation to even survive the camp let alone play when the season began a few months away. Determined to put the distasteful chore behind her as quickly as possible, Pat marched across the hardwood floor to the passageway where the teams had disappeared after the game.

Still upset over the situation her unwanted assistant had forced upon her, Pat shoved open the door to the locker room almost crashing into a tall brunette. Only the woman’s quick reflexes kept her from being knocked to the floor.

“Damn, Pat,” the brunette smiled, as she regained her balance. “I saw you up in the stands and expected you’d be stopping by to say hello. Just didn’t think you’d try to nail me to the wall to do it.”

“Hell, I’m sorry, Karen,” Pat reached out for her friend, “guess I wasn’t paying attention. You okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” Karen allowed herself to be pulled into a hug. “How are you?” she pushed back just enough to gaze at her friend.

Patricia Calvin looked like a basketball player. Almost six feet tall; even team programs listed her at six feet, Karen knew she was slightly shorter than that; her limbs were long and muscular from the countless hours she had spent in the weight room. Short reddish brown hair framed an angular face with features that could appear harsh or soft depending on the coach’s mood. To Karen, her face showed a sadness of too many nights alone.

“Good,” Pat smiled, releasing her college teammate.

“Come to get a look at Dawn?” Karen knew she had one of the hottest professional prospects on her team, Pat not being the first coach to take a look at her.

“Yeah.”

“You don’t sound too happy about it,” Karen motioned for Pat to follow her back out into the corridor.

“I’m not,’ Pat answered honestly. “It was Mac’s idea.”

“She’s a good player,” Karen offered of her player.

“She’s got potential,” Pat agreed. “Unfortunately, she doesn’t do much with it. I’m surprised you leave her in as much as you do.”

“She’s who the fans come out to see,” Karen explained, resigned to having to play the lazy player in order to fill the stands with ticket buyers.

“Not much of a reason,” Pat smiled to take the sting out of her comment. She knew Karen was in a tough spot, coaching in an amateur league full of college stars and pro wanna-bes that depended entirely on fan support for its revenue. Having a local girl on her team was a revenue producer she couldn’t take lightly.

“That’s the game,” Karen shrugged. “You have time to grab a bite or is this just a quick turn around for you?”

“Sorry,” Pat smiled, apologetically, “I’ve been up since four this morning and all I want to do is get back to the hotel and bed. Wish I had the energy for dinner but…”

“I understand,” Karen said and she did. Being a coach of a professional sports team meant you had little time for anything but your team. “Go ahead. They all know you were watching them tonight so they’re expecting you to show up,” she said of her players.

“Thanks,” Pat nodded. “Raincheck?”

“Sure,” Karen grinned then gave Pat a quick hug. “Count on it.”

“It’s nice to see you again, Karen,” Pat said as she turned to the door, this time being more careful when she pushed it inward. “You’re looking good. Debbie must be taking good care of you. Give her my love.”

“Will do,” Karen was pleased that Pat had remembered to mention her partner, something that didn’t always happen with her preoccupied friend. It probably didn’t help matters that Karen and Pat had been dating when she’d met Debbie. It didn’t take long for all three women to realize whose hearts belonged to whom and Pat had been gracious when Karen officially broke the news to her. Karen often wondered why Pat never had a serious relationship after that. It sure couldn’t be blamed on a lack of opportunities. There were many women who had made overtures to the tall, muscular yet graceful athlete but all had been politely rebuffed. Karen asked Pat about it once and had received a shrug of the shoulders and mumbled ‘guess I haven’t found anyone worth the trouble’ as an explanation. Hoping that someday someone would claim her friend’s heart, Karen started for the other locker room to see if the visiting team needed anything.

“Hey, Karen,” Pat stopped, calling out to her friend. “What can you tell me about number twelve?”

“Sherry?”

“Yes,” Pat wasn’t sure why she had asked the question. She didn’t need a guard, hadn’t she already told herself that?

“Good player,” Karen answered. “Quick hands and feet. Smart. Thinks ahead. Hard worker. Why?”

“Nothing really, just wondering. Don’t think I’m seen her before, where’d she play?”

“Western Arizona. Graduated this year.”

“Oh,” Pat made a mental note of the information. “Um, thanks,” she said turning away.

“Far as I know,” Karen added before the door shut, “no one’s talked to her yet.”

Pat walked into the locker room, unsurprised when the talking came to an immediate stop at her appearance. She looked around at the players; most were looking back their faces betraying the various degrees of awe they held for the coach. They knew who Coach Pat Calvin was and most would give anything to receive an invite to the Cougars tryout camp. But most also knew that they weren’t the caliber of player that the coach looked for, if they had been they would have already heard from her or one of the other professional teams.

On the other hand, Dawn Montgomery stood in front of her locker, a smirk spreading across her face. She knew the coach was there to see her and she was enjoying all the looks of envy she was receiving from her teammates.

“Hello ladies,” Pat greeted the players, “good game tonight.”

“Thanks, Coach,” the players answered almost in unison.

“Thanks, Pat,” Dawn smirked, leaning back against her locker.

Inwardly, Pat cringed at the use of her name by the arrogant player but she didn’t let it show on her features. “Dawn,” she acknowledged the player as she crossed the room. “Cougar tryout camp begins in one week,” she said, her teeth clinched together as she made her offer to a player she was sure would be more trouble than she was worth. “This will get you in the door. The rest is up to you,” she held out an envelope.

“Thanks, Pat,” Dawn reached out, snatching the offered envelope.

“Doors are locked at eight sharp. If you’re late, you don’t get in. Period.”

“I’ll be on time.”

“Be early,” Pat snapped. “Oh, one more thing,” she added.

“Yes.”

“My players call me Coach or Miss Calvin,” Pat growled. That had been the first lesson Mac had taught her. Fearing she would be unable to be an effective coach to players older than herself, Pat had voiced her hesitation to the owner.

“You have to let them know you’re in charge,” Mac had told her.

“How do I do that?” Pat asked. She had just graduated from college, how could players several years her senior take her seriously.

“You tell them,” Mac answered, as if the explanation should have been obvious. “You get in their face and you tell them.”

“You call me Pat again and you won’t play for the Cougars. Are we clear?” Pat asked Dawn, her eyes narrowing to slits as she dared the player to protest.

“Yeah, Coach,” Dawn muttered, her cheeks turning red as she heard the snickers of the other players. She bent down, snatching her sports bag off the floor at her feet and rushing out of the room.

Pat took a deep breath, attempting to calm her racing heart before she had to turn around and face the other players who had again become unusually quiet. “Joys of being the coach,” Pat shrugged, sheepishly smiling at the players.

The players laughed, relieved for the tension breaker.

Out of the corner of her eye, Pat noticed the point guard, Sherry sitting quietly in front of her locker. Without thinking, she walked over to her. “You made some nice moves out there tonight,” she smiled at the young woman.

“Thanks, Coach,” Sherry smiled, self-consciously.

“I, ah,” Pat paused momentarily while she dug around in her bag for something. “If you’re interested,” she pulled an envelope out of the bag and held it out. “I’d like to see you at tryout camp.”

“Really?” Sherry asked, her eyes bulging wide in surprise. She had always dreamed of playing professional ball but never actually thought it would ever happen.

“Really,” Pat grinned at the bewildered look on the player’s face. “That is, if no other team has made you an offer.”

“No. I mean yes,” Sherry blushed with embarrassment over her unintelligent behavior.

Pat waited patiently for the player to compose herself.

“I’d love to come,” Sherry finally forced the words out of her mouth. “And no, no other team has approached me.”

“Their loss,” Pat smiled. “See you at camp.”

“Thank you,” Sherry called out again as Pat walked away.

“Be on time,” Pat called back over her shoulder.

“I’ll be early,” Sherry said, remembering the coach’s advice to Dawn.

As soon as the door closed behind Pat, the other players rushed to Sherry’s side all talking at the same time. Sherry heard none of it as she stared at the envelope she held tightly in her hands.

Pat quickly made her towards the front of the arena, cringing when she saw Mandy rushing across the lobby in her direction.

“What took you so long?” Mandy asked from several feet away, her voice harsh.

“Thought I told you to wait for me in the car,” Pat muttered as she brushed past her agitated assistance. “Let’s go,” she commanded when Mandy started to argue. “I’m tired, hungry and in a rotten mood. I strongly suggest you don’t try anything tonight,” she snapped as Mandy followed her outside where their car sat idling at the curb.

Pat sat at the large conference table in her office. Occupying chairs on the opposite side of the table were her two assistant coaches, Marcie Thomas and Kelley Stockley. The women were going over the list of players who would be attending Cougar tryout camp the following morning.

“That’s all of them,” Marcie said, ticking off the last name on the list in front of her.

“There’s one more,” Pat passed a folder across the table. “Sherry Gallagher. Point guard, graduated from Western Arizona this past fall.”

“Thought we had enough point guards,” Kelley commented as she picked up the folder and opened it.

“We do,” Pat shrugged, waiting for the inevitable questions as to why she had invited another to tryout camp. She wished she had the answer.

“So, what makes her so special?”

“She was playing the night I went to see Dawn. She’s a solid player. Smart, quick, and not afraid to take on her opponent.”

“That describes most of the point guards in the league,” Marcie muttered. “Not to mention the ones we already have on our roster.”

“Look,” Pat glared across the table. “We had an extra spot after that player from Australia backed out. So I offered it to Gallagher. What’s the harm in trying her out?” she asked a little too angrily. She wasn’t mad at her assistants; they were only asking the questions they got paid to ask. “Sorry, guys,” Pat smiled, apologetically. “It’s been a long day and I’m sure you’re as tired as I am. Let’s just give her a look, okay?”

“Sure, Pat,” Kelley smiled back. “Fact is I’ve seen Gallagher play. She’s got some real talent, too bad her coach at Western Arizona didn’t know how to draw it out.”

“Yeah?” Pat asked, maybe her impulsive decision wasn’t such a bad one after all.

“Yeah,” Kelley pointed at some numbers on one of the pages in the folder for Marcie to look at. “Good averages, over 14 points a game and 12 assists. She’s a little short but she’s got good speed and has quick bursts. I’ve seen her make some players look like statues when she’s put a step or two on them in the paint.”

“We’ve still got too many guards on the roster,” Marcie reminded the other coaches as she read the stat sheet.

“We do,” Pat agreed. “But Pete has had knee problems the past two seasons and Kinsey is…” she paused unsure how to appropriately phrase what she wanted to say.

“Kinsey is getting old,” Kelley provided. “Let’s be honest about it, she’s been in the league almost ten years. Not too many point guards play that long.”

“We’ve got nine, no ten, guards coming to camp,” Marcie refused to let it go. She was responsible for the guards and she didn’t like the high numbers of players she would be working with over the next few weeks. She would have help from the veteran players already signed for the season but she still wasn’t happy. “With Gallagher, that makes eleven. That’s too many for camp. I can’t work with that many and be effective.”

“You’re right,” Pat told her assistant coach, “I’ll help you out with the guards. And to make matters easier, as soon as any of them look like they can’t cut our style of play, we send them packing. Okay?”

“You’re the coach,” Marcie shrugged, shoving the folder on the unwanted point guard back across the table. She was a few years older than Pat and had been the other assistant coach when Mac had chosen Pat to take over as head coach. Marcie had argued with Mac about the decision, saying the younger woman was too inexperienced to handle the job. The unexpected recruitment of a player never discussed was just another example that she had been right.

“I’m the coach,” Pat muttered, retrieving all the folders spread out on the table. She had hoped that Marcie would have accepted her as coach when the Cougars made it all the way to the playoffs the year before but it was obvious her assistant coach wasn’t ready to do that. “Let’s call it a night,” Pat suggested. “Camp starts early in the morning and I don’t want any of us to be late for the first day.”

“Looks like it should be a good camp,” Kelley said, trying to break the tension that had built between the other two women.

“Don’t forget,” Pat smiled at Kelley, grateful for her attempt even if it didn’t seem to be working on Marcie. “I want you to work Dawn hard. No slack.”

“Gotcha, Coach,” Kelley nodded. Her assignment was the post players and Dawn would be in the group she worked with in camp. “Night, Pat.”

“Goodnight, Kelley,” Pat said as the assistant coach walked out of her office. She turned her attention to the other assistant coach. “Look, Marcie,” Pat said softly. “I was kinda hoping we could put all the crap behind us this season.”

Marcie took her time before answering, her eyes focusing on a rough spot in the table rather than looking at the coach. It wasn’t so much that Pat was a bad coach as much as Mac had all but promised the job to her if it should ever become available. She raised her eyes to look at the woman across the table and discovered she was being watched anxiously by Pat’s deep brown orbs.

“I’ll try, Pat,” Marcie sighed as she decided to give the woman a break. “But there are times I just don’t agree with your decisions,” she said honestly.

“I understand and I don’t expect you or Kelley to always agree with me. I do expect that we keep the disagreements between us and that we don’t carry them onto the floor. It’s hard enough to coach some of these players. If they thought I didn’t have the support of my staff, it would be impossible.”

Marcie knew Pat was right and if they’re positions were reversed she’d expect the same from her assistant coaches. “Okay,” Marcie smiled for the first time all day. “Truce,” she reached her arm across the table.

“Truce,” Pat accepted the offering, shaking the outstretched hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

“You won’t hear me arguing with that,” Marcie said as she stood up.

CHAPTER TWO

The Cougar locker room looked like any one of the thousands of locker rooms that could be found in any high school, college or professional arena around the country. The only difference was that the Cougar locker room was a little plusher than most since Mac Christopher, the team owner, like to show she had money to spend.

Rows of lockers occupied the back end of the rectangular room shielding the entry to the shower area. Instead of the typical bench stretched in front of them each locker was fronted by a straight back leather chair. Mac thought the chairs were more comfortable for the players but the players hated them as they made even the simple task of bending over to tie one’s shoes awkward.

Between the lockers and the front of the room were several rows of chairs brought in for tryout camp. They provided a place for the players to sit while listening to Pat and the other coaches who would make good use of the dry marker board that lined the wall in front of them. The walls on either side of the room were sparsely covered by hand drawn posters revealing Pat’s thoughts on what made a good player and good team.

Sherry walked into the locker room a little before six, not too surprised to find she was the only one there at the early hour. Walking slowly around the room, she felt like pinching herself to make sure she wasn’t still in bed dreaming. She’d always hoped to play professional ball but when no teams came calling during her senior year at Western Arizona, she’d been resigned to put basketball behind her. Playing in the amateur league had been simply fulfilling a commitment she’d made to a teammate, both promising to play at least one year just to give the pro scouts one more time to see them play. No one had been more surprised than she had, when Coach Calvin had offered her an invitation to the Cougar tryout camp.

Sherry stopped in front of each of the hand printed posters thumb-tacked to the wall.

‘Rebound

Rebound

REBOUND’

‘Follow your shot

No one makes it 100% of the time.’

‘Protect the ball,

We can’t win without it.’

‘A champion plays hard every time she picks up a ball.
A championship is won one game at a time.’

“Guess that’s my cue to get practicing,” Sherry murmured as she read the last poster. She looked for a place to change and walked back to the rows of lockers. “Wow,” she gasped when she saw the leather chairs in front of the lockers.

“You’re here early.”

Sherry spun around at the sound of the voice to find Pat standing in a doorway at the side of the room.

“I said I’d be early,” Sherry grinned.

“So you did,” Pat smiled. She had been getting out of her car when she spotted the player entering the arena. She hurried to her office, suspecting the early arrival would end up in the locker room. The door between the office area and the locker room was open and Pat leaned against the doorframe to watch Sherry as she wandered around the room.

Sherry was compact as most guards were, their bodies seeming to be compressed bundles of energy. Her profile listed her as five foot nine but her compact build made her appear shorter. Wearing a pair of shorts and sweat shirt with the sleeves cut off, it was easy to see that there was no excess weight on the guard’s frame. Pat smiled when she noticed the well used pair of hiking boots that Sherry wore, not the usual foot gear for a basketball player.

“Pick a locker,” Pat instructed. “We’ll have lots more players than lockers so it’s good to claim one while you can. It’s one of the perks for being early. You have a padlock or do you need one?”

“I’ve got one,” Sherry set her bag down in the closest chair. “I want to thank you again for inviting me to camp.”

“Like I said, you had some good moves,” Pat said but she knew that wasn’t the reason she’d offered the spot to Sherry. She just wished she knew the reason. “You can thank me by getting through camp.”

“I plan to give it my best shot.”

“Good,” Pat nodded. “I’ve got some paperwork to finish before the others arrive. You need anything else?”

“No,” Sherry shook her head. “Oh, there is one thing.”

“Yes?”

“Is it okay if I shoot some before camp starts?”

“Court is out that door,” Pat pointed to the door Sherry had entered through, “and to your left. Ball carts should be around there somewhere.”

“Thanks,” Sherry smiled.

“No problem. See you later,” Pat disappeared behind the door.

“See you,” Sherry whispered in the empty room.

“Cutting it close, Montgomery,” Kelley growled as Dawn scooted through the arena door just before the assistant coach pulled it shut and locked it. “Coach is getting ready to talk to the players in the locker room. I suggest you bust your ass and get in there before she starts.”

Dawn stood just inside the door looking around, two corridors took off from the doorway and she couldn’t tell which of the unmarked passageways would lead her to the locker room.

“Not making much of a first impression, Montgomery,” Kelley shouted over her shoulder. She was already several steps down one of the corridors before Dawn charged past her. “First door on your left,” the assistant coach called after the racing player. “Oh, yeah,” she smirked, “camp is going to be lots of fun this year.”

Dawn’s rapid entry into the locker room came to an abrupt stop when she spotting Sherry sitting inside.

“What are you doing here?” Dawn sneered.

“Coach invited me to camp, just like you,” Sherry answered.

“Like hell…”

“Is there a problem?” Marcie asked.

“Yeah, she doesn’t belong here,” Dawn told the assistant coach.

Marcie laughed, “oh really.”

“Problem?” Kelley asked when she entered the room to see the face off between Dawn on the other coach.

“Miss Montgomery doesn’t seem to think the Miss Gallagher has a place in camp,” Marcie smirked.

“Hmm,” Kelley rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “I don’t remember getting a memo about Miss Montgomery having any say on who attends camp. Did you?” she asked Marcie as several players in the room snickered.

“No, don’t believe I did.”

“I would suggest,” Kelley’s tone turned serious, “that you spend what little time you have before Coach comes in here getting ready to play. If she sees you like this,” Kelley indicated the sandals the player was wearing, “your tryout is going to end before it gets started.”

“We’ve got another one to tape,” Marcie said to one of the trainers working on another player.

“I don’t need taping,” Dawn grunted, sitting in the only available empty chair which happened to be directly behind Sherry. “It’s only a practice.”

“Don’t be a fool,” Diane Sunndee, a returning starting guard hissed from where she was standing nearby. She stepped toward Dawn’s seat, “you get hurt in camp and you can kiss goodbye to any chance of making the team. Mac doesn’t give contracts to injured players.”

Dawn was bent over, replacing her sandals with her basketball shoes. Luckily, she had put on her sweats that morning. Without lifting her head, she knew exactly who was talking to her. Sitting up, she said. “Hey, Pete,” she smirked, “looks like we’ll be playing together this season.”

Diane Sunndee had earned the nickname Pete in high school. A natural shooter who could drop the ball into the basket from just about anyplace on the floor, she also had a habit of wearing socks with worn out elastic. Though her socks began each game pulled almost up to her knees, they would inevitably be pooled around her ankles shortly after play began. A teammate watching an old Pete Maravich game on ESPN began calling Diane ‘Pete’ and the nickname stuck.

Pete shook her head at Dawn, “boy, are you in for an attitude adjustment.”

Dawn leaned forward to whisper in Sherry’s ear, “keep out of my way.”

“Montgomery,” Kelley barked, pointing out the player for the trainer that was looking for the late arrival.

“This ain’t over,” Dawn warned before sitting back.

At five minutes after eight, Pat pushed open the door between the coach’s offices and the locker room to see over forty women crammed into a space usually used by less than half that number. Some of the returning players stood along the walls on either side of rows of chairs occupied by the players out to prove they deserved a spot on the Cougar roster.

“Good morning,” Pat smiled as she walked to the front of the room to a chorus of ‘morning, Coach’. She stopped when she reached the center of the marker board and turned to look at the women facing her. Most of the new faces turned in her direction betrayed varying degrees of self confidence, while a few showed high levels of apprehension and nervousness. For some unknown reason, Pat was glad to see Sherry was in the first group.

“Welcome to the Missoula Cougars tryout camp,” Pat greeted the group. “As most of you know, the Cougars carry a roster of sixteen active players and four reserves. Currently, we have fifteen of those positions filled.” Pat smiled when she heard a few groans. Her eyes darted along the faces of the veteran players, pausing a second or two on each one. “However as every veteran on the team will tell you,” she turned back to the rows of hopefuls. “There are no sure bets on the Cougars. You earn your position each practice, each game, each day,” Pat’s voice began to harden as she spoke to the women.

“You can forget everything you learned in high school and college. Pro ball is faster, rougher, and more grueling than anything you’re used to. I don’t care how big of a star you were a few weeks ago, starting today you have to start all over again with a clean slate. I don’t have any stars on my team. I don’t have any ball hogs, hotdoggers, or show-offs. If that’s your style of play, there’s the door, don’t waste my time or yours.”

Pat paused to make sure her message was getting through.

“For the first week, you’ll be put through a series of drills that will allow us to see what your strengths and weaknesses are. You’ll be split up by position so we can see how you compare to one another. If you plan to be here next Monday, I suggest you don’t hold anything back. If I, or anyone of my staff, think you’re not giving us everything you’ve got, you’ll be told to leave. There are no second chances, once you’re told to go you won’t be coming back.” She glared straight at Dawn when she said the last part.

“Here are you assignments,” Pat pointed to the board behind her where three columns of names had been neatly printed. “Coach Thomas,” Pat waited for Marcie to step up beside her, “will work with those listed as guards. Coach Stockley will work with the post players. I’ll be working with the forwards. You’ll also be working with Terry Peters, Val Jensen, Pete Sunndee, Tonie Jessep and Kinsey Donaldson, some of our roster players. Don’t think they’ll be easy on you,” Pat smiled, “remember, you’re trying to take their jobs. Don’t worry if you’re listed in a position you don’t usually play. Remember this is a tryout and you may get moved around.” Pat looked at her assistants coaches, “shall we get started?”

“Let’s go, Coach,” Kelley smiled back.

Pat nodded, “welcome to Cougar basketball, ladies.”

“Alright, you wanna-bes,” Marcie growled. “Get your asses out on the floor and I don’t want to see anyone walking.”

As the players leaped up, chairs tumbled backwards crashing to the floor causing some of the young women to have to fight their way through a jumble of chair legs to the door.

Pat grinned as she watched the commotion. She placed a hand on Kelley’s arm when the assistant coach started to walk out of the room and waited until all the players had left.

“Was Dawn late?” Pat had noticed how breathless the player had seemed when she first entered the locker room.

“She made it in as I was pulling the door shut,” Kelley told the coach.

“She’s gonna be trouble.” Pat’s lips were pursed together as she considered the possibilities.

“Chances are she won’t make it past this week,” Kelley offered.

“No,” Pat shook her head. “She knows better than that. She’ll make it through camp. Her ego won’t let her fail. Come on; let’s get out there before they start to get restless. Keep a close eye on her, Kelley,” Pat said as the women walked out of the locker room.

CHAPTER THREE

A shrill whistle brought the activity on the basketball court to a halt as the players froze in place.

“Dawn,” Kelley walked towards the player. “Look around, you’ve three defenders hanging all over you. You can’t possible expect to be able to do anything. Look. Marcie and Pete were both open with easy shots. Use your head. Let’s run the play again.”

It was Friday of the first week of camp and Kelley and Marcie were running the players through a variety of plays while Pat watched from an upper tier of seats. Three players had already had their names erased off the marker board in the locker room and Pat was set to cut another half dozen by the end of the day. She was watching the players on the floor carefully.

On the court, ten players had been split into offensive and defensive teams. The remaining players sat on the benches lining the court waiting for their chance to play. Marcie was playing point guard for the offensive team; Sherry was guarding her for the defensive as they ran through the plays from the half court line. Dawn was playing high post for Marcie’s team.

Marcie dribbled up the right side of the court before firing a pass to Dawn.

This time when Dawn spun around to face the basket and the defenders sagged towards her, she flipped a lazy pass in the direction of Val who was cutting through the key.

Sherry, anticipating Dawn’s pass, left Marcie as soon as she had released the ball to Dawn and cut for the key. Her eyes on the pass, Sherry didn’t see another of the tryout players on her team step between Val and the ball. Sherry and the girl collided, both tumbling to the floor as the ball passed untouched over their heads to Val who took one bounce before banking the ball off the backboard into the basket.

Again the whistle froze players in place.

Dawn snickered as Sherry and the other girl were forced to remain sprawled out on the floor until the coach told them to get up.

“Sherry,” Kelley studied the prone player. “Aren’t you a little out of position?”

“Yes, coach,” Sherry nodded, embarrassed. She tried to see what Pat was doing but the coach was sitting in shadows and she couldn’t make out much more than her shape.

“If you had stayed with your assignment,” Kelley continued, “Debbie would have intercepted that pass. Instead, you just gave up two easy points.”

“Sorry, coach,” Sherry muttered mad at herself.

“Get up,” Kelley told the women. “Dawn, is there something humorous about all of this?” she asked the snickering player.

Dawn just shrugged.

Kelley signaled for the ball to be passed to her. As soon as it was in her hands, she rifled a pass at Dawn.

Unprepared for the pass, Dawn threw her hands up to protect herself. The ball smacked into her arms before ricocheting off across the court. “That’s what we call a pass,” Kelley spoke to the entire group of players. Not a wounded duck flipped across the court. You better learn how to make them and how to catch them because nothing less will be accepted. Okay you teams take a breather, the next two teams are up.”

As they exchanged places with the waiting players, Dawn walked up beside Sherry. “Nice fall,” she laughed. “Didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

“No,” Sherry said, rubbing her elbow that had taken most of the blow.

“Too bad,” Dawn sneered. Bumping her shoulder into Sherry, she strode past to a take a seat on the bench.

Pat watched the exchange, anger building in the pit of her stomach over Dawn’s treatment of Sherry. “Damn,” she blew out a long breath, reaching for her water bottle. “It’s just part of the game,” she reminded herself. “Why are you taking it so personally?” A whistle blowing sent her attention back down to the new group of players on the floor.

Sherry entered the locker room after completing her free throw practice. Since high school she had made it a habit to shoot one hundred free throws before and after every practice and game. The habit had paid off with one of the highest made free throw percentage in college. More than half of the points she had scored at Western Arizona had come from the charity line.

As she had done every day since camp began, Sherry stopped in front of the hand written poster tacked to the wall of the locker room.

‘More games are lost at the free throw line
than won at the 3 point line.’

“Aren’t you going to look?”

Sherry turned at the sound of the voice. Marcie was picking up discarded towels that had been tossed about the room.

“Afraid to,” Sherry shrugged. “I made some bonehead mistakes out there today.”

“You weren’t the only one.”

“Coach barely talked to me today,” Sherry had missed the usual early morning banter she and Pat had shared before the rest of the players began to arrive.

“It’s always hard on Coach when she has to make cuts,” Marcie explained. “Go ahead and look. I think you’ll be surprised.”

Sherry took a couple of hesitate steps towards the front of the room, her eyes scanning down the list of guards. There were a few blank spots that hadn’t been there that morning but at the bottom of the list Sherry Gallagher was still listed. “Damn,” she released her held breath. “I don’t believe it.”

“You got past the easy week,” Marcie sat in one of the chairs, stretching her legs out on another one. “It gets a lot tougher from here.”

“If this was an easy week,” Sherry flipped a chair around to face Marcie and dropped into it. “I sure hate to imagine what the next few are like.” She looked questioningly at Marcie when she received no response and was surprised to see the assistant coach seemed to be struggling with herself.

Marcie debated saying what she was about to but figured the player had earned it after the effort she had given the past five days. One thing was for sure, Sherry was about the only player that had given all she had all week. What she lacked in talent she had made up for with hard work which probably explained why her name was still listed on the marker board.

“Listen,” Marcie began after deciding to say what was on her mind. “I wasn’t in favor of you coming to camp but you proved me wrong. Now I’m not saying you’ll make the team but I am saying you made an impression with the effort you gave this week. Believe me I’ve seen lots of players go through this camp but I haven’t seen many who worked as hard as you have. So,” Marcie pushed the chair out from under her legs with one foot then stood up, “good luck. You keep working as hard as you did this week and who knows,” she shrugged as she turned to walk through the door to the offices.

“Thanks, coach,” Sherry told the retreating woman, a beaming smile spreading across her face.

“I wouldn’t count too much on that,” Dawn smirked, stepping out from the shower room. Her hair was wet and she had a towel wrapped around her still dripping body.

Sherry had had enough of the larger woman’s attitude and decided now was as good as any to put an end to it. She leaned back in the chair, crossing her arms across her chest. “I don’t get it, Dawn,” she addressed the player now leaning against a row of lockers, the smirk still firmly in place on her face. “I’ve never done anything to you, at least not that I know of. So why do you say the things you to do me?”

“Because you’re not good enough for this game. Hell, you weren’t good enough for the amateur league. You played at a nothing high school and a nothing college. You never even made it to the NCAA tournament, not even the first round,” she sneered. “You’re wasting everyone’s time being here.” As she talked, Dawn whipped the towel off and started to dress. “Maybe now I’ll get a locker,” she mumbled, pulling dry clothes out of her sports bag.

Ignoring the last remark, Sherry said, “Coach doesn’t seem to agree with you. My name is still up there,” she casually pointed over her shoulder with her thumb. “Guess I must be good enough.”

“Like I care what an old, has-been that can barely walk has to say,” Dawn sneered. “Blew her knee out, my ass. More likely she choked at the prospect of going pro and came up with the story to cover her sorry ass.”

“You know, Dawn,” Sherry stood, her head shaking slowly side-to-side. “It’s too bad you don’t put the energy on the court that you exert hating people. Maybe if you did, you’d be the player you could be.”

“Advice from a wanna-be,” Dawn laughed. “Just what I need.” She shoved the clothes she had worn during practice into her bag and zipped it closed. “See ya, Monday, wanna-be. Let’s see if your name is still up at the end of the week.” As she walked by the marker board, she dragged her finger through Sherry’s name. “Fat chance,” she snorted as she walked out of the room.

“Lost cause,” Sherry mumbled, walking back to her locker. She forced Dawn and her unreasonable anger out of her mind as she undressed. Moments later she was standing under a stream of hot water, letting the warmth soak into her tired muscles and wondering how she would spend her first weekend in Missoula.

Some time later, Pat walked through the locker room on her way out for the night and saw the damage that had been done to Sherry’s name. “Why do I get the feeling that Dawn had something to do with this?” she said to the empty room, picking up the eraser in the tray at the bottom of the marker board. She erased the name completely then rewrote it in her neat lettering.

Pat stepped off the trail when she reached the site of the old chimney. She walked the few steps down to the creek and quickly made her way across the trickle of water to the clear ground on the opposite side. Slipping her day pack off, she placed it on the ground then settled on a small boulder. Stretching her legs out in front of her, she loosened the velco straps on her knee brace enough for her to slide the brace off her knee and down her leg to her ankle.

“That feels better,” Pat sighed, rubbing the knee to relieve some of the pain.

She reached for her pack, lifting it into her lap. She pulled a baggie of baby carrots out of the pack then set the heavy pack back on the ground. She could have used a smaller pack for her day hiking but she had learned it was better to be safe when hiking in the mountains around Missoula. Weather could change instantaneously from a clear sky to a downpour and she had been caught more than once by Mother Nature’s mood swings. So she carried a complete change of clothing, first aid kit, extra knee brace, light jacket, baseball cap, and a pair of gators along with water and snacks. Of course, the wildflower book and book with photos of various animal scat added to the pack’s weight but she liked to know what she was looking at when she came across something new.

Leaning back, Pat turned her face skyward and closed her eyes. She breathed in a lungful of clean air and smiled. She liked this spot. A small clearing was shading by tall ponderosa pine trees. At the edge of the clearing and alongside Spring Creek, a rock chimney had been built by unknown settlers over a hundred years ago. It was all that remained of a family’s homestead in the mountains north of Missoula now known as the Rattlesnake National Recreational Area.

Several trails criss-crossed the mountains but most who came to the area kept to the main trail that followed the Rattlesnake Creek. Pat like to hike the side trails where she encountered few people and could spend a few hours enjoying the scenery at her own pace. She had just about finished off the baggie of carrots when she heard someone coming up the trail.

Sherry tightened the laces of her hiking boots before retrieving the fanny pack that carried two bottles of water and a few energy bars from the back seat of the car she had borrowed from Val Jensen.

Before coming to Cougar camp, Pat had spent hours on the internet researching the recreational opportunities in and around the Missoula Valley. She had happily discovered that there were numerous places to hike both inside the city limits and close by. Anxious to hit the trail, she had asked her teammates one day before practice started, if any were interested in joining her first thing Saturday morning. Most looked at her like she had lost her mind by wanting to get up early on the first day off since camp started. A few threw things at her. Only Val had seemed half-way enthusiastic to the idea.

“Look, rookie,” Val yawned. “You be better to store up that energy for the coming week because if I know Coach, and I do, you will definitely be needing it.”

“I can’t just sit here all weekend,” Sherry complained to the only person still willing to talk to her. The others were sitting around the locker room doing their best to ignore the conversation. “There’s too much I want to see. Besides, who knows how long I may be here,” she hated to think of the possibility she would not make it through the first week. “I don’t want to waste a single day.”

“Okay,” Val could see Sherry’s point. “You have any idea where you want to go?”

“Rattlesnake National Recreational Area,” Sherry almost shouted the answer, so happy was she to find someone interested in going with her.

“Well, first thing you should know,” Val laughed, “is we just call it The Rattlesnake. You got a map of the trails? ‘Cause it’s easy to get turned around up there.”

“Yes, I’ve got this book,” Sherry held up a well-known local hiking book.

“It’s not the best but it’ll do,” Val commented on the rookie’s choice. “How about equipment? Boots? Pack?”

“Got ‘em,” Sherry smiled.

“What about a way to get to the trailhead? It’s not far but you’re not going to want to walk there.”

“Um,” Sherry mumbled, her smile being replaced by a frown.

“Gonna need a ride,” Val smiled. “Look, I don’t particularly want to get out of bed at the crack of dawn Saturday so I’ll let you use my jeep. You can drive, can’t you?”

“Yes,” Sherry said, smiling again.

“Stick shift?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, I’ll leave it with you Friday night. You can bring it back on Monday since I don’t see me getting too far from my hot tub this weekend. First week of camp is a real killer for me.”

“Thanks, Val,” Sherry hugged the unsuspecting player. “I really appreciate this.”

“Appreciate it by bringing back my baby with a full tank of gas,” Val extracted herself from the hug. “She’ll be running on fumes by Friday.”

“You’ve got it.”

Sherry adjusted the fanny pack around her waist then picked up the baseball cap resting on the dashboard. Locking the borrowed car’s doors, she headed for the trailhead at the end of the parking area. Since it was early morning, only a few cars occupied the dirt parking lot and Sherry curiously noticed the variety of license plates they carried. Missoula was a college town and students came from all over the country to attend the University. She was surprised to see one vehicle, an older model pickup, with a Missoula Cougar staff sticker on is back bumper. She wondered if one of her teammates had changed their mind about a hike.

Sherry started down the wider than usual trail that had once served as the wagon road used by homesteaders. Off to her right, she could hear the Rattlesnake Creek tumbling down its boulder strewn bed. To her left, a rock face rose a couple hundred feet above the trail. Millions of years before, the stone had been thrust up from the ground bending and cracking the hard surface. She hadn’t walked far before the trail and creek met and several smaller paths began to branch off the main trail.

Sherry decided to take the second trail that branched to the left and followed Spring Creek deeper into the hills. The path took her through the middle of a large meadow before starting a gently climb under the protection of a pine forest. She could hear Spring Creek as it made its way back down the trail to where it joined the waters of the Rattlesnake but she had yet to see it. As she walked, Sherry spotted evidence of the early homesteaders; an old fence post, a tree with a string of barb wire buried in its trunk, a rock foundation. She wondered what life must have been like for those that braved what was then an unknown wilderness.

Sherry noticed a clearing to the side of the trail and what appeared to be a stone structure on the other side of the creek. She stepped of the trail to investigate.

Pat recognized Sherry instantly. Her stomach did a strange flip-flop and she considered leaving before the player saw her. She knew a seldom used path that led away from the ruins to another trail on the other side of the gulch. Or she could just walk back across the creek, acknowledging the player as they passed and make a hasty retreat back down the trail. But before she could decide what to do, Sherry was standing in front of her.

Sherry was more than a little surprised to see her coach sitting on a boulder, a shaft of sun unblocked by the surrounding trees highlighting the woman. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight. “Coach?” she asked, needing confirmation that the beauty in front of her was indeed the same woman that had nearly run her legs off during the past few days.

“Gallagher,” Pat greeted the player, her voice sounding a lot calmer than she was feeling inside. “Beautiful morning for a hike,” she added casually.

“Yes… yes, it is,” Sherry managed to stutter out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know anyone was over here. You look like you were meditating or something,” she stumbled over the words. “I’ll leave.”

“No,” Pat said, the word sounding more urgent than she had intended. “I wasn’t meditating,” she told the player. “I just like to sit here. It’s such a peaceful spot. Please stay. That is, if you want,” she added quickly.

“Thanks,” Sherry grinned. “I could use a rest.”

“Altitude getting to you?” Pat asked, concerned the young woman was falling victim to a common predicament for many newcomers to the valley. When Sherry looked at her quizzically she explained, “Missoula valley is around forty-five hundred feet, it’s even higher here in the mountains. Most people who come here don’t realize that so the first few times they go hiking they can overdo things pretty easily.”

“Oh,” Sherry said as she sat on the ground under one of the trees. “Guess that explains my being so tired after a short hike. I’m used to going five or six miles or more back home. But I’ve only gone,” she pulled the pedometer she liked to wear off her waistband, “less than two.”

“That would explain it,” Pat nodded. “You drinking lots of water?”

Sherry held up her fanny pack, showing two empty water bottles to the coach.

“Here,” Pat passed over one of her bottles. “Drink it all if you want, I’ve got more.” She had learned over her years of hiking the local trails that it paid to carry plenty of liquid. She was continually amazed to see people carrying little or none, even families with young children.

“Thanks,” Sherry said after gulping down half of the bottle. “Guess I wasn’t as prepared as I should have been.”

“You shouldn’t be out here at all, Gallagher,” Pat said, her tone harsher than she meant.

Sherry’s eyes grew wide as she waited for the coach to continue.

“That didn’t come out the way I meant it,” Pat apologized. “It’s just that you’ve just put in a pretty demanding week physically and you should be resting. Believe it or not the first week is the easiest.”

“That’s what Marcie told me,” Sherry nodded.

“Well, she’s right.” Pat wondered why her assistant coach had told Sherry that. She hoped that Marcie wasn’t trying to discourage the player from continuing camp. “Anyway, you should be using the weekend to rest, not climb mountains.”

“I don’t think I’d consider this climbing a mountain,” Sherry grinned, glad that her coach didn’t seem all that mad with her. “But I get your point. As soon as I catch my breath, I’m heading back to the trailhead.”

“Good,” Pat smiled. “It won’t be as bad going down as it was coming up. Just take your time.”

“I will.”

“Take this,” Pat pulled a full bottle of water out of her pack.

“I can’t take your water,” Sherry protested.

“Take it,” Pat insisted. “I’ve got more. Besides I won’t need as much as you. I’m used to hiking these hills.”

“Do you do it often?” Sherry asked as she took the water from her coach.

“As often as I can,” Pat bent over, pulling the knee brace back into place. She fastened the velco straps securing the brace to her leg. “Being out here helps me relax. It also helps me put life back into perspective; nothing seems to be quite the crisis when I’m out here. Does wonders for my stress,” she grinned as she stood.

“I bet,” Sherry said, saddening as she watched the other woman prepare to leave.

“Well, I’ve got a few more miles to go before I call it a day,” Pat pulled the back onto her back, adjusting the weight until it was comfortable. “Promise me you’ll head straight home,” she gazed sternly at Sherry.

“I promise. Straight home to a hot shower and bed,” Sherry crossed her heart. She was more than sure of the truth of her words, she just hoped she could make it back to the trailhead without passing out from exhaustion.

“Good,” Pat smiled. “I expect to see you ready to play Monday.”

“I’ll be ready, Coach,” Sherry assured her.

Pat walked to the creek, making her way back across the shallow stretch of water. “Gallagher,” she stopped when she reached the opposite side and turned back.

“Yes, Coach?”

“Next time take a short hike, one mile at most. Give your body time to adjust then you’ll be fine.”

“Right. Short hikes. Got it.”

“Bye,” Pat said as she made her way back to the trail.

“Bye,” Sherry whispered, her hands wrapped around the bottle of water.

CHAPTER FOUR

Pat was sitting in the top row of seats in the first tier surrounding the basketball court. One foot as resting on the back of the seat in front of her and her notebook was balanced on her upraised knee as she wrote comments on the players. It was Friday morning of the last week of tryout camp and she was working on a list of players she would have to release at the end of the day. The time had come for her to make the final cuts.

“Morning, Coach,” Mac Christopher said as she climbed the steps to Pat’s location.

“Morning, Mac,” Pat looked up from her writing. It wasn’t often that the owner of the Cougars came into the arena during tryout camp, so Pat knew she must have something on her mind. She waited patiently for the woman to settle into a seat next to her.

“You’re gonna ruin my fancy cushions,” Mac said of the resting spot for the coach’s foot.

“Don’t have much choice,” Pat smirked, her foot remaining where it was. “You’ve got these seats so close together anyone over the age of ten must feel as cramped as I do in them.”

“More seats mean more tickets sold, Coach. Besides, that’s why I provide you such a lavish office to work out of,” Mac said, leaning back in the seat and raising her feet to mimic Pat’s more comfortable position.

“Can’t see the players from in there,” Pat’s eyes faded back to the action on the court where Marcie and Kelley were running the players through repetitions of set plays.

“Hmm,” Mac followed the action on the floor. “Good group in camp this year,” she said, appreciatively.

“Yes,” Pat agreed. “It’s going to be hard to make today’s cuts.”

“But you’ll do it,” Mac said matter-of-factly. She paid her head coach well and she expected her to make the hard decisions.

“I’ll do it,” Pat frowned as a player completely missed an easy pass thrown to her.

“Hope she’s on your list,” Mac grunted.

“She is,” Pat sighed.

“Want to talk to you about Gallagher,” Mac said as the players were shuffled by the assistant coaches and Sherry was brought in to play offense.

“What about her?” Pat tried to sound indifferent even though her stomach had unexpectedly dropped to the floor.

“We’re heavy in the guard position,” Mac told the coach what she already knew. “What do you plan to do with her?”

Pat considered the question, it being a fair one for the team owner to ask. “I’d like to keep her through our first couple of exhibition games,” she said, watching Sherry dribble the ball from the half court line to the top of the key before passing it off. “I’m not sure if Kinsey is going to make it through the season and right now Sherry is showing more than Wendy or Amie,” she said of her other two returning guards. “And Pete can’t carry point by herself.”

“All right. You can keep her as long as you’re sure she can play at this level.”

Instead of answering, Pat watched as Kelley tossed the ball back to Sherry to set up a new play from half court. Sherry dribbled the ball up the right side of the court, midway between the key and the sideline. Pat knew what play was being run and that it called for Sherry to fake a drive into the key, then pull up to drop a pass off to Val cutting along the baseline.

Sherry reached the spot she was to make her fake, from the corner of her eye she saw Dawn leaving her defensive position at the top of the key to try to cut off her drive. She also saw that Val was having trouble getting through the defenders along the baseline. Sherry took one step straight at Dawn who, surprised by the unexpected move, froze for a moment to consider her options. That was all Sherry needed. Changing directions mid-step, she cut towards the basket. When the defense began to collapse on her, she left her feet to slice through them. As soon as her shoes retouched the floor, she bounced skyward to pop the ball over the rim into the basket.

Kelley blew her whistle to freeze the players in place. “Okay,” she growled. “Anyone want to explain where the defense was on that play?” Sherry had been surrounded by all five defensive players and had still managed to make the shot look easy.

Pat smiled knowing Sherry’s display had been purely instinct and not something that most of her other guards could have executed even if they had thought of it. ‘Great time to pull that off,’ she thought to herself.

“She can play,” Mac conceded, impressed by the performance.

“I want the same agreement for Dawn,” Pat couldn’t seem to wipe the grin off her face even when she spoke of the other player. She wasn’t yet convinced that Dawn could play for the Cougars but she was willing to give her more time since Mac had wanted the player tried out.

Mac looked at Pat like she hadn’t understood the coach’s request. “She signed this morning, Pat. That’s what I was coming over to tell you.”

“What are you talking about?” Pat whipped around to stare at the owner.

“She was on the list you sent over,” Mac explained even though she thought it odd Pat would have forgotten which rookies she had approved to be presented with a contract.

“She wasn’t on the list, Mac.” Pat’s voice was low with a tinge of anger. “I didn’t even want her in camp and I sure as hell haven’t seen anything to make me think she’ll be anything but trouble for us.”

“She was on the list,” Mac repeated, her voice soft in an attempt to calm her upset coach.

“Oh, I’m sure it was,” Pat snarled. She had turned back to face the court and her eyes, darkening with anger, were fixed on Mandy standing on the opposite side of the court talking to the newly signed player. Pat had given her assistant a handwritten list earlier in the week to be typed up for the owner. Obviously, Mac’s niece had added one more name before giving the list to her aunt. Pat released a long breath to avoid saying what was on the tip of her tongue.

“I’ll talk to her, Pat,” Mac said. She hadn’t failed to notice the person the coach’s anger was directed at.

“Don’t bother,” Pat said as she stormed to her feet. “If Dawn has signed, it’s too late to change anything. But,” she glared down at Mac who was still seated. “I want it on record that I did not approve of Dawn and that chances are real good I never would have. Any trouble she causes is your problem, Mac. And Mandy’s,” she added as she stomped down the steps to the floor, the whistle she had shoved in her mouth blaring loudly. “Sprints, baseline to baseline. Now,” she shouted when the players stopped to look at her. “That means everyone,” she glared at Dawn when the player failed to join the rest of the team. “Dawn, get moving.”

Mandy watched Dawn trot to the closest baseline to begin running sprints then turned, marching across the floor towards Pat. Before she could say anything, Mac stopped her.

“Mandy,” Mac growled at her niece. “I want to see you in my office. NOW,” she barked as her niece’s mouth opened to protest.

Pat wasn’t paying attention to the exchange; she had already gone to the opposite end of the court to consult with her assistant coaches.

“We’re agreed then,” Pat was asking Marcie and Kelley.

The three women were sitting at the conference table in Pat’s office as they discussed the cuts to be announced at the end of that afternoon’s practice session. The players had been released for a long lunch break so the coaches could make their final decisions.

“Mac has already offered contracts to Latesha, Polly and Jade. And I’ll give her the go ahead with Ashley.”

“Polly turned her down,” Kelley announced. After her morning confrontation with Pat, Mac had decided to pass the bad news on to the assistant coach.

“Any reason?” Marcie asked, amazed that someone would go through tryout camp just to refuse to sign a contract.

“Homesick from what Mac said,” Kelley reported.

“Damn,” Pat muttered as she drew a line through the disinclined player’s name on the list in front of her. “Guess that moves Sara up,” Pat wrote in the name. “That leaves one spot to fill.”

“Don’t you mean two?” Marcie asked as she reviewed her own list of players.

“Dawn signed this morning,” Pat revealed.

“What?” both Marcie and Kelley asked at the same time.

“Mac got some bad information,” Pat frowned. “She thought Dawn had my approval and she made an offer. Dawn signed the papers this morning.”

“I can just bet how, or who, Mac got that info from,” Marcie muttered.

“Doesn’t matter now,” Pat told her assistant coaches. “She’s signed and we have to deal with the situation whether we like it or not.”

“So who fills the sixth spot?”

“Either Stacy or Sherry,” Pat said.

“My vote is for Stacy,” Marcie pulled a paper from the clutter spread out in front of her to read notes she had made on the player they were discussing. “I know you like Sherry but we have too many guards. Stacy can play both forward and post and she’s made some really good progress during camp.”

“Kelley?” Pat asked the other assistant coach for her opinion.

“Hate to say it because Sherry is the hardest worker of everyone in camp but Marcie is right. Stacy provides us the coverage we need.”

“Okay,” Pat added the player’s name to her list.

“Sorry, Pat,” Marcie knew the coach had taken a liking to the play of the guard from Arizona.

Pat shrugged before continuing. She wasn’t sure why but the thought of Sherry not being on the court the following Monday morning tied her guts into knots. “We have one final matter to discuss,” Pat said. “Kinsey saw her doc this morning.”

“How bad is it?” Marcie asked. They all knew the aging guard’s knees were bad and getting worse.

“He wants to do surgery now. She wants to play one more season.”

“What do you think?” Kelley asked.

“I think we owe it to her to let her make the call.” Even though she knew she should, Pat couldn’t bring herself to cut the veteran guard loose after she had been a loyal and productive member of the Cougars for the past several seasons. “But I think we need to take steps to be ready to replace if she can’t make it through the season. I’ve got Mac’s permission to keep Sherry for the first couple of exhibition games,” just saying the words made Pat feel better. “That should give us enough time to see what Kinsey is capable of and if it doesn’t look like she’ll make it, we can offer her spot to Sherry. Any objections.”

“Sounds like the best we can do, Coach,” Kelley agreed.

“I second that,” Marcie nodded.

“Okay,” Pat added a note at the bottom of her list. “They should be getting back soon,” she said of the players. “I want to work them on stamina drills this afternoon. I won’t be giving this list to Mac until practice is over so if you see anything to change your minds, let me know.”

“You got it,” Kelley said as she pushed her chair away from the table. “I’m going to grab a quick sandwich before we get started. You guys interested?”

“Yeah, I’ll come,” Marcie stood.

“Go ahead,” Pat told her assistant coaches. “I’ve got a couple of things I want to clean up before we start.”

As Marcie and Kelley opened the door to exit the room, Mandy pushed her way into it. “Pat,” she said as she hurried into the room.

Pat growled at the use of her name by the woman.

Marcie looked at Kelley, they knew anything was about to happen and they had no intention of being around if it did. Pulling the office door shut behind them, they ran for the outer door that would take them out of the office area completely and into the corridor.

“Mandy, I’m busy,” Pat said as she retrieved the papers strewn about the table.

“But you must remember that you had Dawn’s name on your list,” Mandy continued as if she hadn’t heard.

With the papers gathered up in her hands, Pat pushed away from the table to walk the couple of steps to her desk. “Mandy, I am very aware what names were on the list I gave you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some things I have to do before practice resumes.”

“But, Pat, I just typed what you gave me.”

Dropping into the chair behind her desk Pat refused to respond.

Mandy came around the desk to stand as close to Pat’s chair as possible then leaned casually against the desk. “Pat,” she softened her voice, “I know you’re upset with me but I’m sure I can think of a way to make it up to you.” She reached out to lightly rub the back of her knuckles against the coach’s cheek.

Pat swiped the offensive hand away from her face. “Damn it, Mandy,” she snapped. “When will you get it through your thick head that I have no intentions of ever sleeping with you?” Pat’s voice grew louder with each word. “Now, GET THE HELL OUT OF MY OFFICE!”

Mandy started to say something more then thought better of it. She smiled at Pat in a way that made the coach feel as if the woman was undressing her to appraise what she discovered underneath. With a flick of her shoulder length brown hair, Mandy turned to leave as requested. She stopped when she reached the door. “Do you have anything for me to give to my aunt?” she asked, her voice sugary sweet.

“From here on out,” Pat snarled without looking up, “I’ll hand anything I have for Mac to her personally.”

“Suit yourself,” Mandy smiled then left.

Pat jammed her elbows onto her desk and dropped her head into her palms, begging her racing heart to slow down before it burst out of her chest. “Tell me again,” she asked herself, “why I put up with her?”

Sherry sat in front of her locker. She had been passing the door that led into the coaches’ offices when she’d heard Pat’s declaration to Mandy. She jammed her elbows into her thighs and dropped her head into her palms, begging her racing heart to slow down. She was sure today would be her last in camp and she was sure she’d probably never see Pat Calvin again after today. So for the live of her, she couldn’t figure out why the words the coach had shouted at her assistant had brought so much joy to her heart.

Sherry hadn’t been surprised to be called to the coach’s office after practice but she was shocked when Pat explained she would be staying with the team past tryout camp.

“I can’t promise anything,” Pat was saying. “We’ll just have to see how things go with Kinsey. If she can play…” Pat couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence.

“I understand, Coach,” Sherry was grinning ear-to-ear. At the very least, she’d have the opportunity to be part of the Cougars for two of their exhibition games. At the most, she’d be offered a spot on the season roster. As far as she was concerned, it was a win-win situation. And when you factored in the woman sitting on the opposite side of the desk; well it just kept getting better.

“That’s about it,” Pat smiled, feeling better than she had all day. “Unless you have any questions, you can take off for the weekend.”

For an unknown reason, Sherry found that she didn’t want the conversation to end. An idea popped into her head and without thinking she asked the coach, “I was wondering if you’d like to go for a hike tomorrow? I’ve been taking short ones like you suggested and I think I’m ready for something a little more strenuous.”

Pat almost said yes, then better judgment ste