Shaniqua Chaney, six feet of cornrows, tattoos, piercings and attitude, had been drafted from Temple the year prior and had the makings of the best shooting guard in the league, taking a great number of cues from her idol, Allen Iverson.
Rosalie King and Marcette LeRoy were two potential-filled forwards from North Carolina, and Nanette Mackey, point guard and Tamara Stern, center/forward were two crafty veterans who?d played for several teams during their long tenure with the WBA.
Realizing she was looking at the starting lineup of the Birmingham Badgers, Hodge stared up at her Coach, her face one large question mark.
Dylan?s smirk became more pronounced. “Think you?re ready to swim in the deep end of the pool, Catherine?”
Hodge blinked once, then cleared her throat. “Excuse me?”
Dylan took a significant glance at the court, then back to her newest star in the making. Her eyebrow rose.
Hodge flushed, then paled as the realization stole over her. “You?you mean I?m not fired?”
Dylan snorted. “Hardly.”
“But I thought?.”
“I know,” Dylan replied, her eyes warming. “And I?m going to talk to dear Diana about that this evening before she leaves for home. I pay her to be a bitch, but sometimes she goes a bit too far.”
“So, does this mean??”
“Yes it does.” Dylan grinned. “Welcome to the Badgers, Starting Point Guard Catherine Hodges.”
Scarcely aware of what she was doing, Hodge opened her arms and closed the small distance between them, clasping Dylan in a fervent, effusive hug. “Thank you so much!” Hodge?s voice was muffled against the fabric of Dylan?s jersey.
Dylan stiffened, stunned at the very unexpected action, then slowly returned the hug, albeit a bit awkwardly. “You?re very welcome.”
The moment was interrupted by laughter and catcalls. Immediately mortified, Hodge pulled away, only now fully aware of her actions. Her face flushed a color that would have done an overripe tomato proud. “Oh my god,” she moaned, dropping her head into her hands. “I did it again, didn?t I.”
Dylan?s answering laughter was music to her burning ears.
“Good afternoon and welcome to the Southern Sports Network ,television home of the Birmingham Badgers. I?m Todd Black and this is my co-host, the lovely Melinda Morton. We?re coming to you live tonight from inside the beautiful Horace Johnson Arena where the Badgers are set to open their season against last year?s WBA Champions, the New York Thunder. The house is pretty packed, Melinda.”
“You?re right about that, Todd. A nice sized crowd has shown up tonight to see if Coach Dylan Lambert?s offseason wrangling has paid off.”
“That?s true, Melinda. She?s made a lot of changes this year, including the shocker of the decade, her choice for first pick of the draft, the diminutive Catherine Hodges.”
“Well, Ms. Hodges may be small, but she has heart, and she knows her way around a basketball court, leading her college team, the UCONN Huskies to an NCAA championship. It?ll be interesting to see how she fits into the new offensive scheme sources say Coach Lambert has spent the entire offseason developing and perfecting.”
“Sounds interesting, Melinda. Anything else your sources have to tell you?”
“Not really, Todd. Just that this is an entirely new Badgers team, and that we should look forward to seeing some things we haven?t before from them.”
“I?m sure we?ll all be keeping our eyes and ears open, then. And now, let?s get courtside and listen to the team introductions.”
Hodge stood on the sideline, shifting back and forth on her feet and shaking her hands.
“You doin? alright, Shortchange?”
Rolling her eyes at her new nickname, Hodge turned toward Shaniqua Chaney, who was standing beside her. “My stomach is a cave and the bats are rebelling.”
Chaney laughed, making the black and purple beads at the ends of her cornrows click together. Hodge found the sound oddly comforting. “Don?t sweat it, Shortchange. Those bats?ll always be there. You just gotta use em in your favor.” A careless hand swept forward to the entire arena. “Look at all them people up there. All of em?s waitin to see you fly or fall. You just tell yourself them bats are gonna help you fly.”
Hodge couldn?t help laughing at the analogy, and the action caused her stomach to settle somewhat. “Thanks, Chane.”
“Hey, no problem, girl. Let?s do ?em.”
The cheering crowd became silent as the public address announcer?s voice came over the speakers. Hodge?s stomach began to churn again.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Horace Johnson Arena, the home of your Birmingham Badgers!”
Jumping to its feet, the crowd went wild, cheering and throwing purple and black streamers which littered the court.
“And here are your starters. A five foot six inch point guard from the University of Connecticut, number 33, Catherine Hodges!”
Hodge ran onto center court in a daze, barely hearing the cheering of the crowd. Though it was something she?d done more times than she could count during the past eight years of her life, and often in front of crowds much larger than this one, something about this night was different. It seemed almost magical somehow, dreamlike in a way that even the NCAA Championship hadn?t felt.
Before she knew it, she was surrounded by her teammates and was being escorted to the sidelines, watching as Dylan, dressed in a black suit with a blinding white shirt beneath, shook the hand of the opposing coach.
Cat blinked, then shook herself out of her daze when she realized that Dylan had joined the group and was imparting some last minute instructions.
“Alright guys,” Dylan said, looking each player directly in the eyes, “play aggressive, play smart. Back each other up, and remember what we?ve been practicing.” Looking around the circle, Dylan finally smiled as she saw the sea of determined heads nodding. “Alright. Let?s do it.”
The butterflies came back with a vengeance as Hodge returned to center court and waited for the game to begin. The running sweat of her palms dampened the fabric of her jersey as she wiped her hands in a nervous gesture.
The referee?s whistle blew, and the game was on.
Roo tipped the jump into Chaney?s hands. Chaney passed the ball to Hodge, who dribbled past half court and waited for the play to set up around her. The defense was easily read as man-to-man, and faced off against her was Tarma McKinney, the best point guard in the league.
Chaney broke free of her coverage and Hodge rifled a pass, which was immediately intercepted by McKinney, who took off down the court like a rocket and scored the game?s first two points with an easy, uncontested lay-up.
Cursing herself, Hodge stepped beyond the endline and took the ball, passing it to Chaney, then receiving it back and dribbling quickly past center court. A lane to the basket opened like Moses parting the Red Sea, and she went for it, managing to dribble into the paint before a dark hand shot through and relieved her of the ball neatly as you please.
Gritting her teeth, Hodge turned and ran after the thief, but McKinney?s speed was greater and again she was forced to watch as the veteran point guard scored an easy lay-up to make the score 4-0.
McKinney placed the ball on the endline, then turned, brushing Hodge?s shoulder with her own as she ran by. “Go back to the sandbox, scrub. You got no game.”
“Don?t listen to her, Shortchange,” Chaney advised as she handed the ball to Cat. “Bullshit?s the only thing that comes outta that mouth.”
“I?ll try, Chane,” Hodge sighed as she started back upcourt.
“You don?t try, girl. You do. This shit ain?t no different from what you?ve been through already. Suck it up and play.”
Standing on the sideline, Dylan resisted the urge to turn away as the approach of Diana Caulley registered in the periphery of her vision. “Save it,” she snapped when Caulley got within range.