Darius held the ball at the top of the key, the shot clock ticking down to four seconds. Julian Hayes was in his defensive stance, hands low, eyes locked on Darius's midsection. The paint was open, just barely, a sliver of space between defenders.
His mind screamed at him to drive. His body froze.
Three seconds.
Darius finally moved. He exploded toward the basket with a burst of speed that caught Julian off guard. Julian's feet stuttered for half a second as he tried to recover. Darius drove hard into the lane, his shoulder dipping low as if preparing for contact.
Derek Grant stepped up from the weak side, his long arms reaching toward the ball. Darius saw him coming and jumped, his body twisting in mid-air. But instead of finishing at the rim, he passed the ball at the last possible second to Eli, who was cutting along the baseline.
Eli caught it clean and laid it in before Andre Simpson could rotate over.
Bayview 89, Striders 82.
Julian looked at Darius with narrowed eyes as they jogged back. That wasn't a normal drive. The hesitation at the top, then the sudden explosion, then the weird twist in the air. Something was off about it.
On the Striders' bench, Coach Sullivan leaned forward slightly, watching Darius more carefully now.
The Striders brought the ball back down. Julian ran their set with the usual precision. Pass to Cameron, swing to Mason, back to Julian. But this time, Julian tried to drive into the paint, and Darius was there waiting, his positioning perfect because his mind had read the play three steps ahead.
Julian kicked it out to Cameron on the wing. Cameron shot a three-pointer that missed. Darius grabbed the rebound.
He pushed the pace immediately, sprinting up the court before the Striders could set their defense. He crossed half court and saw the lane open up again. His mind told him to attack. His body hesitated.
He drove anyway.
This time he went harder, faster, committing to the drive with more force than before. Derek stepped up to meet him. Darius jumped, his body preparing for contact that his mind was screaming at him to avoid.
At the last second, he contorted his body in mid-air and shoveled the ball to Malik, who was cutting backdoor. Malik caught it and finished with a layup.
Bayview 91, Striders 82.
The Bayview bench erupted. The move looked incredible from the outside, a perfectly executed drive and dish. But Darius knew the truth. He'd bailed out. Again.
Julian brought the ball up, his face still calm but his mind working overtime. Something was different about Darius's game now. He was attacking more aggressively, but there was something strange about it. The way he twisted his body in the air. The way he always passed at the last second instead of finishing.
The Striders ran another set. This time it was Andre Simpson who got an open mid-range shot off a screen. He made it.
Bayview 91, Striders 84.
Darius brought the ball back up. He called for a screen from Eli at the top of the key. Eli set it, and Darius used it to attack the middle of the floor. Julian fought through the screen, staying on Darius's hip.
Darius drove into the paint again. This time Derek was already there, his arms spread wide, cutting off the driving lane. Darius jumped and tried to pass to Daren on the wing.
But his body couldn't keep up with what his mind wanted to do.
The pass came out awkward, floating through the air with too much arc and not enough velocity. Cameron Wells read it, jumped into the passing lane, and deflected it out of bounds.
Striders ball.
Daren looked at Darius with confusion. That pass had been way off. Darius was one of the best passers on the team. What was that?
On the sideline, Coach Anderson frowned. "Darius, settle down. You're forcing it."
But Darius wasn't forcing it. His mind was seeing the plays perfectly. His body just couldn't execute them the way Che's body used to.
The Striders inbounded the ball and Julian brought it up slowly, letting the shot clock run down. He ran another methodical set, and Mason Lee ended up with an open three-pointer from the corner. He made it.
Bayview 91, Striders 87.
Darius brought the ball back up, and this time he was more cautious. He dribbled at the top of the key, surveying the floor. Julian was on him, patient as always. Darius called for another screen, and when Eli set it, Darius attacked.
He drove hard toward the basket, his mind telling him to finish strong, to absorb the contact, to play through it. But his body rebelled. At the last second, he tried to pass to Marcus in the corner.
The pass was behind Marcus, forcing him to reach back awkwardly. Marcus caught it but had no time to shoot. He passed it back to Darius, who was now standing at the top of the key with the shot clock winding down.
Three seconds.
Darius had no choice. He rose up and shot a contested three-pointer over Julian's outstretched hand.
Miss.
Derek grabbed the rebound and immediately passed to Julian. The Striders pushed in transition. Julian drove into the paint and kicked it to Cameron Wells, who was trailing on the right wing. Cameron caught it and shot a three-pointer.
Swish.
Bayview 91, Striders 90.
One-point game.
Coach Sullivan stood on the sideline, his eyes locked on Darius. He'd been watching carefully for the past few possessions, and now he saw it. The pattern. The hesitation. The way Darius's body couldn't quite do what his mind wanted it to do.
Darius brought the ball up again, trying to settle himself. He drove into the paint one more time, his mind screaming at him to just finish at the rim, to stop bailing out. But when Derek stepped up to contest, Darius's body twisted away from contact again.
He tried to pass to Eli, but the pass came out late and weak. Derek intercepted it and took off in transition.
Derek drove all the way to the basket and finished with a dunk.
Striders 92, Bayview 91.
The Striders had taken the lead.
Marcus looked at Darius with frustration. That turnover had been completely unnecessary. Malik was breathing hard, his face showing confusion. Daren jogged over to Darius. "Yo, what's going on, man? You're playing different."
"I'm fine," Darius said, but his voice lacked conviction.
On the Striders' bench, Coach Sullivan finally called timeout.
Both teams walked to their benches. The Striders were calm, confident, feeling the momentum shifting back in their direction. Bayview's players looked tense, confused about what was happening with their floor general.
Coach Sullivan gathered his players in the huddle. His voice was calm and measured as always, but there was a sharpness to it now. "I've been watching their point guard. Darius. He's trying to attack the rim, but something is holding him back."
Julian nodded. "Yeah, Coach. I noticed it too. He drives hard, but at the last second he always passes or twists away."
"Exactly," Sullivan said. "His mind is elite. He sees the game three steps ahead. But his body is hesitating. There's a disconnect. He's trying to play through it, but he can't fully commit."
Cameron leaned in. "So what do we do?"
Sullivan smiled slightly. "We force him to drive. We take away his passing lanes. We make him finish at the rim. And when he can't, we capitalize on the turnovers and bad passes."
He looked at Julian. "Pressure him. Make him drive. When he does, Derek, you step up hard. Make him either finish through you or make a difficult pass. Either way, we win."
The players nodded, their faces showing understanding. They'd found Bayview's weakness. And they were going to exploit it.
The timeout ended. Both teams returned to the floor.
Darius stood at the top of the key, ball in hand, trying to clear his mind. The Hustle System pulsed softly in his vision, its message clear.
WARNING: Current approach is unsustainable. Hesitation creates predictability. Defensive adjustment imminent.
Darius clenched his jaw. I know. But I can't just flip a switch. I can't just suddenly be okay with contact.
REMINDER: Fear is not overcome by avoidance. It is overcome by action.
Julian picked him up at half court, but this time his stance was different. More aggressive. Inviting the drive.
Darius dribbled once, testing. Julian didn't retreat. He stayed close, hands active, but his body positioning was leaving the lane open.
It was a trap. Darius knew it was a trap.
But what choice did he have?
The game was slipping away. His teammates were confused. The momentum had shifted.
He had to do something.
The ball sat in his hands, heavy with the weight of the decision ahead.
And across from him, Julian Hayes stood waiting, calm and patient, knowing exactly what was about to happen.
The battle was far from over.
But the Striders had found their answer.
And Darius was running out of time to find his.