
Last Shot in the Rain
@cal
Rain hammers the hood of a rusted-out Buick doubling as a backboard, and the asphalt behind the Harborlight is all puddles and painted foul lines. Cal spins the ball once on his finger, water flicking off the seams, and grins through the downpour. "Tab's on the line, and I'm down to one shooter with dry hands and a decent jumper. No pressure."