The U14 Championship – Red Hawks vs. Windy City Kings (Part 2)

Lucas took a deep breath, gripping the ball tightly as he prepared to inbound. The score read 10-6, Kings, and every possession was starting to feel heavier. Sweat dripped from his forehead, but it wasn't just from the game—it was from the frustration building inside him.

The Kings weren't just good; they were polished. They executed plays with discipline, stuck to their assignments, and didn't give up easy points. Every mistake the Red Hawks made, the Kings punished. And that was getting to Lucas.

He knew he was older inside—technically. His mind held memories of being a grown man, but his body was 12, and it was betraying him in the worst way. The emotions that flared in his teenage years—the frustration, the rush of adrenaline, the impatience—were overwhelming him now. He had always prided himself on being calm under pressure, but here, in the middle of a championship game, his emotions were screaming at him.

I have to get a grip.

He exhaled, shaking his arms out as if physically throwing off the tension. He had been given a second chance, and he wasn't going to waste it by letting his own emotions sabotage him.

"Lucas!" Miguel's voice snapped him back to reality. "Come on, man. Let's go!"

Lucas blinked, refocused, and passed the ball in. Calm. Play smart. Let the game come to you.

Miguel caught the inbound, and the Red Hawks quickly moved into their offense. The Kings' defense stayed tight, their guards pressing high to cut off passing lanes.

Lucas called for a screen, and Jaylen stepped up. Lucas used it, curling to the left, but the Kings' big man hedged hard, forcing him to pick up his dribble.

"Back!" Lucas called, flipping a quick bounce pass to Jaylen, who rolled to the basket.

Jaylen caught it but had to adjust mid-air as the Kings' big man lunged toward him. Instead of forcing the shot, Jaylen flicked a sharp pass to Miguel in the corner.

Miguel caught it, pump-faked, let his defender fly past him, then rose for a clean two-pointer.

Swish.

"10-8!" the DJ announced as the crowd erupted.

The Kings weren't fazed. They ran their offense methodically, moving the ball with precision. Their sharpshooter, the wiry kid who had already burned them twice, curled off another screen and caught a quick pass.

Miguel tried to close the gap, but the shooter needed only a sliver of space. He launched a smooth, effortless jumper from beyond the arc.

Swish.

"12-8, Kings!"

Miguel shook his head in frustration. "Damn, this kid doesn't miss."

Lucas jogged up beside him, patting his chest. "We're still in this. Don't overplay—just stay in his jersey."

Miguel exhaled, nodding. "Alright. Let's get it back."

The Red Hawks' next possession was a battle. Lucas pushed the pace, finding Miguel on the wing. Miguel attacked, spinning past his defender, but the Kings' big man stepped up to contest. Miguel adjusted in midair, switching hands for a smooth left-handed finish.

"12-9!"

The Kings responded immediately, their point guard driving hard into the lane. Lucas stepped in to cut him off, but the guard dropped a beautiful no-look pass to their big man, who slammed the ball off the glass for another two points.

"14-9, Kings!"

The game turned into a showcase of skill and resilience. The Red Hawks refused to go down without a fight, and the Kings refused to give up their lead.

Jaylen powered through contact for a tough layup.

"14-10!"

The Kings' sharpshooter hit another contested jumper from the elbow.

"16-10!"

Lucas answered back with a quick hesitation move, freezing his defender before pulling up for a clean midrange shot.

"16-11!"

Miguel came up big with a steal on the next possession, intercepting a lazy pass and taking it coast-to-coast for an acrobatic layup.

"16-12!"

The crowd's energy was rising. Parents, friends, and players from the earlier rounds were all watching now, the intensity of the championship game pulling them in.

From the sideline, Lucas caught a glimpse of his father. Steven sat forward in his seat, his hands clasped together. Next to him, Tim Hardaway leaned back slightly, nodding his head as he watched.

Lucas turned back to the court, his heart hammering. No distractions. Stay in the moment.

The Kings slowed the game down, looking to extend their lead. Their point guard waved his teammates into position, then dribbled near half-court, waiting for a screen.

Lucas narrowed his eyes. They're setting something up.

As expected, their big man set a high screen, and the guard used it to get a step on Lucas. He drove hard toward the hoop, but Jaylen slid over just in time, planting his feet.

The Kings' guard had no choice but to adjust, throwing up an awkward floater.

Jaylen jumped, extending his arm just enough to get a fingertip on the ball. It fluttered off target, hitting the front of the rim.

Lucas reacted instantly, jumping into the air and grabbing the rebound.

"Run it!" he shouted, immediately pushing the ball upcourt.

Miguel sprinted ahead, his defender trailing behind. Lucas lobbed a perfect pass over the top, and Miguel caught it in stride, laying it in with ease.

"16-13!"

The Kings' big man clapped his hands in frustration.

The intensity continued to rise. The Kings played patient, their guard milking the clock before driving again. This time, he threw a sharp kick-out pass to the corner, where their sharpshooter was waiting.

Miguel lunged to contest, but the Kings' shooter pump-faked, sidestepped, and fired from beyond the arc.

The ball hit the rim, bounced high, and rattled in.

"17-13, Kings!"

Lucas clenched his fists but didn't let himself lose control. Stay focused. We're right there.

The Red Hawks needed a big play, and they got it. Lucas brought the ball up and called for a quick screen. Jaylen set it, but instead of rolling, he popped out to the top of the key.

Lucas passed it to him, and Jaylen turned to face the basket. The Kings' big man hesitated, expecting him to drive. Instead, Jaylen squared up and let a midrange jumper fly.

The ball arced beautifully, then splashed through the net.

"17-15!"

The Red Hawks' bench erupted, and even the neutral spectators were getting hyped now.

The Kings came down the court, looking to put the game away. Their point guard tried to shake Lucas with a hesitation dribble, but Lucas stayed in front, forcing him into a tough situation.

With the shot clock winding down, the guard had no choice but to hoist up a contested jumper.

It bounced off the rim.

Jaylen fought for the rebound, tipping it to Miguel.

"Go!" Lucas shouted.

Miguel sprinted down the sideline, his defender scrambling. He faked a drive, then stopped and kicked the ball out to Lucas, who caught it near the top of the arc.

Lucas set his feet and fired.

The ball soared, spinning perfectly.

Swish.

"17-17!" the DJ roared.

The crowd was on its feet now. The championship was coming down to the wire.

Lucas clenched his fists. This is it. No mistakes. No second chances. One final push.