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MidReal Story
Final Shot: Timberwolves' Triumph
Anonymous
May 16
Scenario:The Minnesota timberwolves are losing a playoff series to the Denver Nuggets. The timberwolves must win games 6 and 7 to advance to the western conference finals.
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Mia Rodriguez
team's head coach, mentor to Jake, short with curly hair, strategic and passionate.
Jake Thompson
star point guard for the Timberwolves, friends with other players, tall with sharp features, competitive and resilient.
Tyler Barnes
rookie player with potential, mentee of Jake and Mia, muscular build, enthusiastic and naive.
I’m not sure what’s worse, the silence or the sound of my teammates’ sneakers squeaking against the hardwood.
We’re all in the locker room, heads down, trying to process what just happened.
We were up by twenty points at halftime.
Twenty fucking points.
And we still lost.
The Denver Nuggets are up three games to two in this playoff series, and we have to win the next two games if we want to advance to the conference finals.
It’s not impossible, but it’s going to be tough as hell.
We’re all exhausted, both mentally and physically, and I can see it in their eyes.
They’re defeated, and I can’t blame them.
I’m feeling pretty low myself right now, but I can’t let it show on my face or in my body language because they’re all looking at me for guidance.
I’m the star point guard for the Minnesota Timberwolves, and I have to be their leader on and off the court.
I have to be their rock when everything around us is crumbling.
I remember Mia telling me that after a tough loss, I need to be the first one to stand up and believe in everyone else.
I have to show them that we can rise from the ashes, and we can do it together.
I have to make them feel like they’re invincible, even when they’re not so sure of themselves.
Mia’s the head coach of the Timberwolves, and she’s one of the best in the business.
She’s been with the team for three years now, and in that time, she’s taken us from being a team that could barely make it into the playoffs to a team that has a legitimate chance of winning a championship.
She takes shit from no one and earns the respect of everyone who plays for her because she knows what she’s talking about.
Even though she’s only five-feet-two inches tall with curly dark hair and a round face, she still manages to be intimidating as hell.
It’s like she has this invisible forcefield around her that makes you straighten up and listen when she starts talking.
After making my way around the room and talking to each guy individually, I take my seat and let out a long breath.
I’m not sure if anything I said really helped, but I know it needed to be done.
We’re all still feeling pretty shitty, but at least now we can start focusing on what needs to be done to get ourselves out of this hole that we’ve dug.
Everyone goes quiet when the door to the locker room opens, and we all turn our heads to see Mia walk in.
When she first started here, there were a lot of people who didn’t think she’d last more than a year coaching an NBA team.
Now it’s three years later, and we’re competing with some of the best teams in the league.
She may not look like much at first glance, but underestimating her is one of the biggest mistakes you could ever make.
She makes her way to the center of the room, her hands on her hips as she looks around at all of us.
“I’m not going to lie, boys,” she says.
Her voice is loud, booming with authority as she speaks.
“We really shit the bed tonight.
It was embarrassing how we completely fell apart in the third quarter.
We were up by twenty points at halftime, and then we only scored eighteen points in the third.
Does that make any fucking sense to you?”
We all shake our heads in unison.
“No, it doesn’t,” she says.
“It doesn’t because it’s bullshit.
We played like shit for one quarter, and now we have to win two more games to advance to the conference finals.
Do I think we can do it?
But it’s going to take every single one of us busting our asses for forty-eight minutes in order for that to happen.
We can’t take our foot off the gas for even a minute, or else we’ll end up right back where we are now.
So I want you all to let this loss sting.
Let it piss you off.
Let it stay with you until Friday night, because we need that energy in order to win the next game.
But don’t let it beat you.
Don’t let it break you.
It’s hard to argue with Mia when she’s right.
We did fall apart in the third quarter of Game 5, and it’s what ultimately cost us the win.
There were too many missed opportunities and too many defensive breakdowns, and now we have to find a way to get our shit together or else we’ll be watching the rest of the playoffs from home.
She looks around at all of us, her eyes boring into ours with determination and fire.
“I’m not ready to go home yet,” she says.
“And neither are you.
We have two more games to win, and I’m going to do everything I can to make sure that happens.
But I’m not going to lie to you guys, it’s going to be hard.
It’s going to be really fucking hard.
But I know each and every one of you wants this as much as I do, so I know we’ll figure it out.
And if you don’t want this as much as I do, then you have no business being here.”
Her words hang in the air like a thick fog as she looks around the room one last time before nodding her head.
“Let’s get some rest,” she says.
“It’s going to be a long couple of days.”
Mia is barely out the door before I slam my fists onto my knees.
I can feel the frustration and anger bubbling up inside me, and I bite down on my cheek so hard in an attempt to keep the tears at bay.
I fucking hate when this happens.
It’s not often that we lose games we should win, but when we do, it takes me a long time to get over it.
I can’t help but replay the end of that game in my mind over and over again, wondering what we could have done differently to walk away with the win.
We were up by eighteen points with just over four minutes left in the third quarter.
We missed a couple of threes, and then they made a couple on the other end.
Before we knew it, our lead was down to five.
And then they took it from us completely.
We couldn’t score and couldn’t stop them from scoring.
It was like we forgot how to play basketball all of a sudden.
Like we had never been in that situation before.
When they hit a three to take the lead, that’s when I knew we were fucked.
We had nothing left.
By the time the fourth quarter rolled around, we were already defeated before it had even begun.
And that just can’t happen.
Especially this deep into the playoffs.
“When are you going to learn how to control your emotions?”
I look up to see Tyler standing in front of me with his hands on his hips and a huge grin on his face.
The rookie player has a lot to learn about the NBA and what it takes to be successful here, but he’s got all the tools he’ll need to become something special one day.
He’s got an amazing work ethic and is always the first one at practice and the last one to leave.
He studies game tape like he’s preparing for the bar exam and asks questions until he gets answers.
Mia’s words echo through my mind as I slowly stand up and look around at my teammates and friends.
“Tyler, get a fucking clue.”
I hear Mia’s voice in my head.
“It’s all good.” I wave him off and stand up.
I pat him on the shoulder and give him a reassuring smile.
“Just upset about that loss is all.”
“Yeah, that was a tough one.” He holds up his hand and gives me a fist bump.
“We’ve got this though.
We can definitely get this win in Denver.”
I take a deep breath and try to shake off the lingering effects of that loss.
“Sure we can,” I tell him with a smile.
“We have no other choice, right?”
I glance around at my teammates who are slowly getting up and heading toward the showers.
“Not ready to go home just yet.” Mia had said those words with a look of determination on her face.
She was upset about that game just like we were, but she wasn’t about to let us feel sorry for ourselves.
She’s right; we’re not ready to go home just yet.
The thought of losing two games in a row and getting knocked out in the first round is almost too much to bear.
But Mia is right: it won’t be easy, but it is possible.
We can do this.
We have to do this.
Because if we don’t, I don’t know how long it’ll be before I can get over this loss.
I watch Mia carefully as she speaks to each and every one of us before she gets to me.
She looks at me with an expression that tells me she knows exactly how I’m feeling right now.
As my head coach and mentor, she knows me better than anyone else on this team.
And she knows how much that loss is hurting me.
But she also knows that I’m not going to let it defeat me either.
As she speaks to me, she looks me straight in the eye and says, “Do not give up on yourself.”
And then she moves on to the next player without another word.
Those five words are all she needs to say to me to get me fired up again.
As far as anyone is concerned, this series is over and Denver has already moved on to face Dallas in the next round.
But not us.
We know what’s at stake here.
We know what it takes to win a championship and all the sacrifices we’ve made to get to this point.
This season has been a long one with early morning practices and late-night shooting sessions, but it’s all been worth it to be here right now with my teammates about to head to Denver for two more games in this series.
