Unknown - driven

“Well hell,” Chaney sat down in a chair across from Dylan. “If her ACL is torn, we may as well kiss the championship good bye.”

“No way,” Cat straightened up from her spot against a wall. “If her ACL is torn that bites and it sucks for Angela and we?ll have to go after the championship. It won?t be easy and it won?t be fun but we can win it. We have to, for her. For us.”

Dylan stood and stretched, it had been a long night and her plans of buying her team dinner and then a quiet night with Cat had gone down the tubes the second the team doctor had made a preliminary diagnosis of a torn ACL. After that the entire team demanded to go to the hospital and wait. “Cat?s right. We have to win it and we will. For us.”

Stripping off her scrub gown and gloves, Kelly Norton opened the door to the treatment room and beckoned Dylan inside. Once the coach?s broad shoulders had cleared the swinging doors, Norton grabbed hold of her elbow and led her to a quieter corner of the room, away from the exam table and the techs who were fitting Tippens with a heavy brace.

“Good news or bad news?” Norton asked, keeping an eye on the action in the center of the room.

“C?mon, Kelly, I don?t have time to play word games. Just tell me how she is.”

“Alright. It?s her ACL, but it?s not torn, just badly sprained. She?ll need a brace and crutches, and a shitload of physical therapy, but I don?t have to cut on her, and if she follows my orders, she?ll play again.”

“Thank God,” Dylan breathed, genuinely relieved.

“But not this season.”

“That?s fine. I don?t care about this season, Kelly. I care about her career.”

Norton met the intense blue eyes and nodded, her own gaze softening perceptibly. “I know, D. I know. She?s gonna be plenty sore for awhile, but she?ll be okay.”

“Good. Can I see her?”

“She?s kinda doped up and probably won?t make any sense, but sure.”

“Thanks.”

The techs backed away as Dylan moved forward to the table and looked down at her fallen player. Angela was a little pale, and her leg looked as if it had been through the meat grinder, but otherwise, she looked better than Dylan could have hoped.

When she saw her coach peering down at her, a big, morphine-enhanced grin curled her lips. “Heya, Coach!” she sang, trying to lift an arm, then giving up when it didn?t want to work, and letting it flop down to the bed. “Howzzz thangs?”

“Things are pretty good,” Dylan replied, trying to keep her expression serious.

“Thass good.” Her eyes widened. “Gosh, you sure are pretty, Coach! Did anyone ever tell you that? That you?re reallll pretty?? Did they?”

Dylan could feel the heat of the blush crawling up from her neck, and glared at the others in the room who were snickering at her. They quickly found other things to do. When she looked back down at her player, Angela looked as if she was getting ready to cry. “Hey. What?s wrong?”

“I ain?t gonna be able to play no more,” she mumbled, sounding very much like a three-year old.

“Sure you will,” Dylan countered, taking the young woman?s hand. “You?ve only got a sprain, not a tear. Didn?t the Doc tell you that?”

“Don?t remember.”

Dylan looked over at Norton, who nodded.

“You?re gonna be fine, Angela,” the coach said. “A brace, crutches, some PT, and before you know it, you?ll be sinking threes again just like you did tonight.”

Big, round, innocent eyes met hers, hope shining in them. “You really think so?”

“I know so.”

“Gosh, Coach Goddess, you?re real swell. And pretty too.” Tippens giggled and tried to lift her arms again. It was a lost cause, and after a final squeeze of her hand, Dylan backed away, gesturing for Norton to follow her back to the corner.

“What?s up?” the doc asked.

“Dobbins. She?s the only one we have who can play her position, and she?s been suffering back spasms since the Pistol?s game. Do whatever you need to do for her, but make sure she can play tomorrow night.”

“I don?t know, D. She?s been in a lot of pain?.”

“Just do it.”

Norton blinked, then nodded. “I?ll see what I can do,” she said tightly.

“Good.”

“You can let the others in to see her for a couple minutes if you want,” Norton called out to Dylan?s retreating back. She received a brisk nod in response as the coach hit the door and disappeared back into the waiting room.

A minute later, a flood of players entered the room, talking excitedly.

Back in the now empty waiting room, Dylan dug her cellphone from her pocket, flipped it open, and punched a button with her thumb. She held the phone to her ear until the line was answered by a sleepy, annoying voice. “Manny? We need to talk. Now.”

“And that was the buzzer, Lori, bringing to close a, well, I guess you would have to call it ?inspiring? half of basketball.”

“Inspiring indeed, Ted. With the Badgers? great defensive shot blocker and outside threat Angela Tippens out with an injured knee, Lola Dobbins has been doing her best to fit in, but you could tell several times out there that her back was giving her a lot of trouble. Frankly, I?m surprised Coach Lambert kept her in the entire half.”

“Well, Lori, it?s not that surprising when you look at their roster and see that there really isn?t anybody to replace her with. Thorne?s been having trouble with bursitis in her shooting arm, and I don?t think Dylan is comfortable going up against a team as all-around tall as the Lightning with three women in there under 5?6”. Especially with Cat Hodges, their outstanding point guard and court general, hobbled with that sore knee.”

“Very true. What is surprising, I think, is that the Badgers, the little team that could, has actually managed to make somewhat of a game of it out there today. Yes, they?re losing by fifteen at the half, but they?ve overcome worse deficits, and in the last game, managed to win despite behind eleven at the half.”

“I guess we?ll just have to wait and see what tricks Coach Lambert can pull out of her sleeve this week, Ted, because things the way they are, I don?t think we?re in for a repeat of that last game.”

“Understood, Lori. Well, folks, stay tuned for the second half of what promises to be a gutsy performance by the Birmingham Badgers against the perennial favorites, the Louisiana Lightning. And we?ll be back after this commercial from Maxi-Fresh.”

“I?ll be fine, Coach!” Lola Dobbins yelled from the depths of the whirlpool into which she?d been ensconced the very second the buzzer rang ending the half. “Just a little more of this hot water and a good massage, and maybe a shot, and I?ll be good to go. I can feel the muscles relaxing already!”

“Just relax in there, Dobbins,” a harried Norton said, buzzing past Dylan with a soft brace and liniment in her hand for Cat?s swollen knee. “I?ll be back in a minute.”

“I swear, Coach, I?m feeling better. Honest.” Dobbins turned pleading eyes to Dylan. “Please. Let me play. I can do it.”

Giving her player the best smile she could offer, Dylan rapped her knuckles on the whirlpool rail and said, “We?ll see.”

Leaving the relative quiet of the whirlpool/treatment room, Dylan made her way back into the organized chaos of the locker-room, making a beeline directly for the bench where Cat was being tended to. Coming down to one knee, she put a hand on her lover?s thigh, not caring what anyone saw, or thought, and met Cat?s eyes directly. “The truth.”

“It hurts like hell. But?I can play on it. I?ve had worse knee strains before, and the Doc has already taken my picture and pronounced me fit, right?”

Norton grimaced even as she nodded. “It goes against my utopian world recommendations, but?right.”