Madrid, Spain – February 2015
Luis didn't scream.
He just fell.
Rolled once.
Grabbed his ankle.
Eli didn't move.
Not yet.
Coach Ortega called timeout.
The bench stirred.
Trainers rushed in.
Luis waved them off.
"I'm good."
He wasn't.
Timeout Huddle
Coach Ortega's voice was low.
"Luis is out. Eli—run the floor."
Eli nodded.
No speech.
No rally.
Just breath.
He looked at the team.
Pointed once.
Then walked back to the court.
Next Possession – Madrid Juniors vs. Prague Core
Eli caught the inbound.
No play call.
Just spacing.
He dribbled once.
Waited.
Cutters moved.
He drove left.
Bounce pass.
Layup.
No celebration.
Just reset.
Defense – Prague's Point Guard Attacks
Eli watched the hips.
Not the ball.
Not the eyes.
He slid early.
Cut off the lane.
Forced a pass.
No steal.
No highlight.
Just control.
Second Quarter – Silent Control
Eli didn't speak.
He moved.
Cut early.
Passed late.
Rotated first.
The others followed.
Not because he told them.
Because he showed them.
Halftime – Locker Room
Luis sat with ice on his ankle.
Coach Ortega looked around.
"Luis was our voice. Eli's our rhythm."
The team nodded.
"We follow the breath."
Eli sat still.
Eyes closed.
Breathing in.
Holding.
Releasing.
Third Quarter – Defensive Mastery
Prague ran a lob set.
Eli read the eyes.
Jumped early.
Tipped the pass.
No block.
But enough.
Next possession—baseline drive.
Eli stepped through.
Absorbed contact.
Laid it in.
No scream.
No flex.
Just silence.
Fourth Quarter – Final Sequence
Tie game.
Shot clock low.
Eli held the ball.
No timeout.
No play.
He dribbled once.
Waited.
Defender leaned.
He stepped back.
Sideline fadeaway.
Release.
Swish.
Post-Game – Locker Room
Luis leaned on crutches.
"You didn't say a word."
Eli nodded.
"Didn't need to."
Coach Ortega smiled.
"You're not loud. You're early."