Last Shot Read Online Free PDF Page B

Now, Roy Williams might have a different opinion.…”
    “I get along just fine with Roy,” said Brill, who had now joined the blush parade. “He’s a good guy.”
    “For someone from Carolina,” Krzyzewski said, as if finishing the sentence for him.
    A whistle blew behind them. Krzyzewski shook hands all around again, saying to Stevie and Susan Carol, “You twohave a great time this weekend. Watch these guys work, because, seriously, they’re the best at what they do.” Then he turned directly to Stevie. “And you come down and visit us at Duke sometime. Cameron’s not as old as the Palestra, but it’s pretty cool. Call my office and I’ll set you up with seats right behind our bench. Anytime.”
    He turned to join his players, who were assembling in a circle at midcourt. Weiss put an arm around Stevie. “Really bad guy, huh?”
    “Well, I mean … Do you think he’s serious about those tickets?”
    “Completely serious,” Weiss said. “Come on, let’s sit down and watch practice. You look like you need to catch your breath.”

    Stevie had never seen a college basketball team practice before. In fact, the only practices he had ever taken in were the ones he took part in at school and in summer camp. This was light-years different. In Stevie’s practices at school there was one coach and ten players. Duke’s practice had more people involved than Stevie could possibly keep track of. There were, by his count, fourteen players in the blue-and-white practice gear. Then there were a bunch of people in sweat suits like the one Krzyzewski was wearing. Three he recognized as assistant coaches Johnny Dawkins, Chris Collins, and Steve Wojciechowski. There were no fewer than twenty others roaming around the court, including one group who were clearly managers. Every time a player fell or anyone got tangled up, several of them would sprintto the spot as soon as play went to the other end of the court and feverishly towel up any sweat that might have dropped to the floor.
    “Who
are
all these people?” Stevie asked Weiss, once they had settled into seats marked NEW YORK TIMES and CHICAGO TRIBUNE that were located not far from the CBS people. Stevie tried to picture himself actually sitting in one of those seats during a Final Four game and became dizzy at the notion.
    “There are twelve managers,” Weiss said. “They actually have to interview to get the job. The seniors interview freshmen and then pick them. It’s a big honor.”
    “To wipe up sweat?”
    “There’s more to it than that. You get to be inside a great basketball program. The best coaches have had managers who go on to be coaches in a lot of cases. Lawrence Frank was a manager for Bob Knight at Indiana. K’s had several managers become successful coaches, too.”
    Stevie was slightly amazed at the thought that Lawrence Frank, who coached the New Jersey Nets, had once wiped perspiration for basketball players at Indiana.
    “The older guys are the team trainers and doctors and their sports information people,” Weiss went on. “Big-time college basketball teams are a traveling circus. Today you’ve got a ringside seat.”
    No kidding, Stevie thought. He glanced around and saw TV crews eagerly taping the practice from different angles. Dawkins, who Stevie’s dad had told him once played for the 76ers, thereby making him a good guy, was talking to someonewho was scribbling notes as he spoke. In the corner, up on the little riser that was their set, Stevie could see the ESPN guys. Vitale was speaking and Digger Phelps and Chris Fowler were listening. Or perhaps, Stevie thought, not listening.
    Stevie noticed that the scoreboard clock had just ticked under forty minutes. “Isn’t fifty minutes kind of a short practice?” he asked.
    “They’re not really practicing here,” Weiss said. “Watch, they won’t do anything very serious. They’ll all go practice someplace private later in the day once they get through with their press