Impossible Dreams

Chapter 6

"Hey."

"Hey," Lauren said, and laughed. She just woke up.

"Morning," Rick said. "Sorry, I didn't call you last night."

"It's okay," Lauren said. "I went out with Nessa and Jim anyway.
We went to a movie."

"Oh," Rick said. "Which one?  Is it good?"

"'Die Hard, The Come Back'. Don't watch it. It sucks."

"I ain't going to the theatre without you."

Lauren giggled. "Okay," she said. "Did you have a good sleep?"

"Nah," Rick said. "Coach Frazier had been bombarding me nearly
all night."

"For what?" Lauren said. "You played pretty well last night, even
though you lost. Wait. He went with you?"

"Nah," Rick said. "I called him. I think he broke your record for
the longest phone chat."

Lauren laughed. "Okay," she said. "And?"

"You know," Rick said. "We didn't really believe we could win the
series, no matter what Coach had been saying. Nobody believes it.
The Pistons are too good. But Coach Frazier said nothing's
impossible. He'd been trying to make me believe we can."

"So do you believe it now?"

"I don't know. Well, honestly, I still don't."

"Why?"

"I think we'd already played our best last night," Rick said.
"But whenever we were almost there, they pulled it apart. They're
too good."

"You know you can play better, a lot better."

"Lauren, I ain't no God of basketball. I'm just a human."

"Yeah, a superhuman," Lauren said, struggling not to laugh.

"If I were," Rick said. "You'd have come every time." He laughed.

Lauren laughed. "Damn it, you jerk," she said. "I did."

"You didn't," Rick said. "Silly."

Lauren laughed again. "Okay," she said. "I didn't. But I nearly
did. So, for Christ sake, you're superhuman."

"You know," Rick said. "I've made up my mind. I'm going to play
the best of my best. I ain't going to worry whether we'll win or
lose. I'll just concentrate and play my best."

"No," Lauren said. "That's not good enough. Concentrate, play the
best of your best, and win the goddamn games, win the series."

"I'll try," Rick said.

"You're not going to try," Lauren said, again holding her laugh.
"Idiot. You're going to make it happen."

"Don't do this to me."

"Know what?"

"What?"

"I'll grant you a wish."

"Oh, no," Rick groaned. "Don't do this to me. Just pack and move
in with me."

Lauren couldn't hold it. She bent in the bed laughing. "Go make
it happen," she said after she had enough.

"One game at a time," Rick finally said.

"No," Lauren said. "The series."

"One game at a time."

"Shut up."

"Come on."

"Shut up. Next. Hey."

"What?"

"Do you think you'll be voted the regular season MVP?"

"Nah."

"Why not? Every time I watch the TV, they say you play like a
true MVP."

"As far as I know," Rick said. "My name is not on the ballot
form."

"Why not?"

"I practically only played the second half of the season. And I
didn't play that well to start with. I don't have the stats they
have. I'm also not a star player. You know, they want a star to
be the MVP, not someone who may play a good season and then
disappear the next season."

"But you've won the 'Player of the Week' title in the last three
weeks. And you're going to play at least as well next season,
aren't you?"

"I guess it's too late," Rick said.  He paused and took a couple
deep breaths, then went on. "Yeah, I believe I'll be able to play
like I'm doing now. And know what?"

"What?"

"I don't give a damn," Rick said. "I don't care if I'm on the
ballot form or not. I've never been happier in my pro years.
What's more, the MVP is about a player's performance and
contribution over the entire season. I don't deserve it. If I
were to vote, I'd give it to Tim Fowl. He's taken his team to a
whole new level."

"So, do you think Tim Fowl will be MVP?"

"I don't know," Rick said. "I hope he will."

"Okay. Wait. Is that Tim Fowl the guy form UConn?"

"Yeah," Rick said, laughing. "He's that asshole."

"I thought you hate him. He kicked your ass both times at the
NCAA quarterfinals."

"He did," Rick said. "And yeah, I hate him. But he's really good.
He deserves respect and recognition."

"Well," Lauren said, giggling. "At least you're not as bad a jerk
I had thought you were."

"I don't get it," Rick said, laughing. "Why am I still a jerk?"

"Because," Lauren said. "Well, next topic." 

Rick laughed, and so did Lauren.

------------------------------------------------------------

"What?" Vanessa said, laughing in the couch. "You made yourself a
reward for the series?"

"No," Lauren said, laughing. "I told him I'll think about it."

"That means you will."

"I don't know," Lauren said, giggling.

"You will," Vanessa said, smiling. "You're hopeless."

"I don't know," Lauren said, still giggling.

"No," Lauren suddenly said. "I will not."

"Huh?"

"He has not said the magical words to me yet."

"No?"

"No."

"And you have slept with him?" Vanessa said. "Not just once, not
just twice, not just..."

"Shut up," Lauren said, giggling. "Do you sleep with guys only
after they have said it first, every time?"

"No," Vanessa said, laughing. "Not if they are for fun or I am
too horny."

"See?"

"But you don't do it with him for fun, do you?"

"No. But horny, may be."

Vanessa laughed and shook her head. "You're hopeless," she said.
"So, have you said it to him?"

Lauren tilted her head thinking. "No," she said. "Hey, he's the
one supposed to say it first."

"Do you think he'll say it?" Vanessa said. "I mean, do you think
he loves you?"

"Yeah," Lauren said, smiling. "Yeah."

"You're hopeless," Vanessa said, shaking her head. "Both of you."

"Hey," Lauren said.

"What?"

"Damn it," Lauren said. "Go with us. I don't feel comfortable
going to the game with Jim alone."

"Why not?" Vanessa said. "He's not going to force on you. I don't
have problem with it if you go to bed with him on your own
accord."

"You're the worst bitch I've ever seen," Lauren said, laughing.

"I'll think about it," Vanessa said, giggling. "What will I get?"

"Ralph Lauren Romance for your birthday?"

"And Elliot Lucca shoulder bag?"

"Oh my goodness," Lauren said, laughing. "Who do you think I am?"

"Okay," Vanessa said. "I'll see if I can make it. I actually
don't want to go myself. I'll talk with my cousin to see if I can
get away with it."

"Okay," Lauren said. "And forget about Ralph Lauren Romance, I
saw a Rampage Ruched v-neck dress you're going to love it. Jim's
going to have a huge hard-on watching you dancing in it."

"Remember what you've just said. If I don't see that hard-on,
you're going to blow him until he has it."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey!"

"Hey."

"Why didn't you call me?" Lauren said.

"I'm sorry." Rick said.

"Why didn't you call me?"

"You know why."

"Because you lost?"

"Yeah."

"The series is not over."

"I know," Rick said. "But we're down two-nothing. Chances are
very slim. Only four teams had come back from two-nothing in the
past. I, well, I don't know. I really wish we had won the game.
You know, I really wanted it. It's a key. Come on, Lauren,
please, forget about the series."

"Well, what were the chances of me sleeping with you?"

Rick laughed. "None," he said. "It was a miracle, a big one."

"So?"

Lauren heard Rick take a deep breath. "Okay," he said. "I'll be
back around ten. What time are you getting off today?"

"Damn," Lauren said, giggling. "One second you're depressed, the
next second you want to sleep with me."

"We don't have to sleep," Rick said. "I want to see you."

"Yeah, yeah," Lauren said. "And every time I end up in your bed."

Rick laughed again. "Okay," he said. "We sleep, if you also want
it. But honestly, I want to see you."

"Six thirty."

------------------------------------------------------------

"What are our chances?" Vanessa asked Jimmy after they took their
seat at Madison Square Garden at the forth game of the playoffs.
"Assuming Lauren hasn't worn her guy out."

"Well," Jimmy said. "Good thing is we won the last game, so our
guys have the momentum to even the series. Bad thing is the
Pistons are still too tough.  It doesn't matter if Rick can fly.
It's not a one-man game. The rest of the guys, at least the
B-team and C-team guys, have to step up. I've long given up hope
on the A-team guys."

"I guess you're right about the hopeless A-team guys," Lauren
said. "Both Peanut and Diesel are on the starting line-up. George
Lamont has given up on his A-team as well."

"I think I don't even see Big Mac on the bench," Vanessa said.
"Is he injured?"

"No," Lauren said. "May be he's late?"

"No," a voice beside Lauren said. She turned over and saw a big
guy with his face almost covered entirely by his beard, wearing a
Knicks cap and a Knicks jersey. "He's not playing for the rest of
the series, most likely not for the rest of his life."

"Why?"

"Like your friend said, hopeless."

"How do you know?"

"It's in the news," the guy said, pulling a micro-radio out of
his pant pocket. "Officially, he has a stomach flu. Unofficially,
he's suspended. Unidentified sources say he was not happy he
didn't get enough minutes and didn't go to the practice."

"Damn," Lauren said. "I hope Diesel can step up better."

"On the brighter side," Jimmy said. "They'll most likely have
more salary room to play with for re-signing Rick."

"Yeah," the big fellow said. "If Don Wilson doesn't re-sign Rick
Hart, I'm quitting as a fan. It will mean he's hopeless and
therefore the Knicks are hopeless."

"That's right," Jimmy said, reaching across Lauren to do a
high-five with the big fellow.

The big guy then handed Lauren the big bucket of popcorn he was
holding. "Want some?" he asked.

"Thanks," Lauren said, and picked up a few into her hand.

"Pass it on," the big guy said. He then studied Lauren briefly.
"You face looks familiar," he added. "You're a singer?"

"No," Lauren said, smiling.

The sold out crowd at Madison Square Garden had been booing
loudly at the Pistons whenever they touched the ball during what
could be the last Knicks' home game for the season. However,
Lauren could feel the unspoken worry among the people around her.

"I don't like this," Jimmy said. 

"Me too," Lauren said. "That's nasty."

"That's not alright," Vanessa said. "That's not just
double-teaming. What are they doing?"

"They're trying to intimidate him," the big fellow said. "After
the first quarter, they have apparently concluded that half of
the Knicks is not much of a factor today, so they concentrate on
Rick. If they can stop him, we are toasted. They are throwing
bodies at him, challenging him whenever he touches the ball,
boxing him out, and trying to make him irritated."

"Oh, no," Lauren said, as the Knicks head coach was waving and
arguing with the referee. "Damn it, go back, you idiot."

"Oh, no," Vanessa said. "That's the second Technical for George
Lemont. He's ejected."

"Oh, no! Damn it, stop it," Lauren said, as she saw Rick
exchanging words with an opponent player.

"Technical foul, Richard Hart and Shawn Artest," the broadcaster
announced the double technical foul declared by the referees.

"Gee," Jimmy said. "I think we're done. You see, Rick's
intimidated. Another 'T' and he'll be out, and our season will be
over."

"Time-out, New York Knicks," the announcer said again. Lauren saw
her former dance team teammates rushing into the court to perform
a routine.

"I don't know how we can win this game," Vanessa said.

"Well," Lauren said. "First, Rick has to contain himself, and,
and..."

"And," Jimmy followed up. "He has to be a superhuman, a very
super-superhuman."  He let out a long sigh.

"Why isn't Rick making many free throws?" Vanessa said, after
checking the scoreboard.

"Because the Pistons are good," the big fellow said. "They've
been avoiding it. They don't want to foul Rick Hart. He's too
good a free throw shooter."

"Why have they pulled Rick out?" Vanessa asked, when the time-out
was over and they saw Jerry Dupree was on the court.

"I guess they want to give him time to calm down," Jimmy said.
"He needs some rests, anyway."

The crowd began chanting for their team.  They booed whenever the
Pistons had the ball. It didn't help. The knicks were trailing by
twelve at half-time.

"I think you should call him in the dressing room to offer a huge
reward," Vanessa said. "Tell him you're going to marry him."

Lauren wasn't in the mood of joking, but she couldn't help
laughing. "Should I throw in a blow job from the maid of honor?"
she said to Vanessa.

"Well," Vanessa whispered at her ear. "Tell him to buy white
condoms."

The crowd made deafening chant as the Knicks slowly regained the
ground and pulled off a lead in the third quarter.

"Wow," Lauren said to her friends during the break. "What a come
back."

"Yeah," Jimmy said. "Nobody can imagine this. The intimidation
has turned into motivation for Rick, and he's Super-Rick in the
quarter."

"Except," Vanessa said. "I've had enough. Jim, you switch seats
with me. I have enough pinches from Lauren."

Lauren giggled. "Sorry," she said. "I was too nervous."

"Okay," Vanessa said. "One more pinch, you will blow Jim. He'll
buy me an Effy diamond pendant for it."

Lauren giggled, then shook her head. "For a diamond," she said.
"You'll sell everything, your friend, your body, and even your
soul."

"You're wrong," Vanessa said. "I'll do the same thing for a
sapphire."

"Okay," Lauren said, as the players returned to the floor for the
forth quarter. "Let's hope they can keep the lead till the end."

At the buzzer, the big fellow bear-hugged Lauren so tight she
could hardly breathe. Lauren had never heard a louder chant since
she started dancing for the team.

While walking up the stair to the hallway, the big fellow
suddenly turned around and pointed his big finger at Lauren's
nose. "I remember who you are now," he said. "You're Lauren, City
Dancer!"

"Yeah, I am Lauren," she said, smiling, after her momentarily
shock. "I'm not a dancer anymore."

The big guy pulled his hat off his head, and put it in Lauren's
hand. "Doesn't matter," he said. "Will you autograph it for me,
please? My son's not going to believe this. He's been trying to
bid for one on e-bay."

"Do you have a pen?" Lauren said.

The big guy searched his pockets, then started asking people
around him for a pen. Lauren autographed his cap for him.

After they had left the arena, Jimmy said to Laura. "I didn't
know the dancers also have fans. He was like asking for a movie
star's autograph."

"Oh, yeah," Lauren said, smiling. "The City Dancers do have fans,
even though much smaller than the team's. We have autograph time
at our off-court appearances."

"Can I have an autograph, too?" Jimmy said. "I do have my own
pen, a big one."

"Sure," Lauren said. "Drop your pants."

"I think it's about to rain," Jimmy said. "Let's move faster."

"Chicken!" Vanessa said to Jimmy. She then turned to say to
Lauren. "Hey, we forgot to discuss my reward for attending this
game. What do I get?"

Lauren giggled. "V-string from Victoria's Secret?" she said,
glancing at Jimmy.

"Complete with satin thigh-length wrap?" Vanessa said, also
glancing at Jimmy.

"Gee," Jimmy said. "You guys really want me to drop my pants
now?"

"So," Vanessa said, when they were in the subway. "Are you going
over tonight to celebrate with him?"

"No," Lauren said. "I'd told him no.  But I don't know if he'll
still call me." 

"Why aren't you going over?" Vanessa said.

"Well," Lauren said. "Whether they win or lose, he'll still have
games to work on. I don't want him to stay up so late in critical
times. Doesn't matter what he says, I'll, you know," She giggled
before going on. "I'll end up there."

"I think it's you who make yourself end up there," Jimmy said
with a lewd smile.

Lauren giggled, and slapped Jimmy. "Shut up," she said. "You
jerk."

"Poor Rick," Vanessa said, giggling. "By the way, Jim, is that a
record for a playoff game? fifty three points in a single game."

"No," Jimmy said. "Michael Jordan still holds the record with, I
believe, sixty three points."

"That's crazy," Vanessa said.

"Yeah," Jimmy said. "But I think twelve consecutive 3-pointers is
a record, both for the playoffs and for the regular season."

"That's crazy," Vanessa said, "What's his record with you,
Lauren?"

Lauren laughed. "I'm not telling," she said.

"So what do you think about their chances now, Jim?" Vanessa
said.

"Well," Jimmy said. "If Lauren continues to torture him like
this, and he can play like he did tonight, they're going to win
the series.  The Pistons don't have an answer for him."

------------------------------------------------------------

Lauren went to see her mom after work. Uncle Frazier was talking
with her mom in the kitchen. She gave money to her mom and talked
with them while the mom was cooking.

"Are you staying here for dinner?" she asked Uncle Frazier.

"Of course he is," the mom said. "And so are you."

"Of course I am," Lauren said, laughing.

After the dinner, the mom tuned the TV to ESPN, but Lauren knew
she had wanted to watch the movie she was talking about during
dinner.  She went over to Uncle Frazier's place to watch the
game.

"Don't stare at me," Uncle Frazier said, as he carefully poured
whisky into a Martini glass. "I've been cutting down. This glass
is all I get for tonight."

"I hope you remember what you've just said," Lauren said. "Or
I'll kick you so hard you'll regret you're ever alive."

Uncle Frazier turned around and shook his head as Lauren giggled
and went to take her seat in the couch.

"So," Lauren said. "How are our chances?"

"Well," Frazier said. "They will come out hard.  They'll use
their first four team fouls on Rick to stop him from getting
early buckets.  They will try to get an early lead to hurt our
morale. When our guys become anxious, they will double team him."

"It doesn't sound good," Lauren said.

"It doesn't." 

"What are we going to do?"

"George will have to rely more on Peanut and Kenny," Uncle
Frazier said. "And the other guys will have to step up early on. 
If we can hang around till half time, I think we'll have a very
good chance."

"How do you think he's playing now, anyway?" Lauren said.

"Do you remember the last game?"

"Yeah, of course," Lauren said. "He made his career high
scoring."

"It's not about the scoring," Uncle Frazier said. "It's about his
determination. I think you didn't notice the flames in his eyes. 
Even I didn't expect the ejection of George and his 'T' would
give him so much stimulation. His heart was blazed with profound
desire to win the game. That's what he needs. When he has that
will, he's unstoppable. He's the most talented player I've ever
seen. He was just never able to find himself. I hope he can now,
and can carry this throughout his career."

"Did you see the blaze in his eyes this morning?"

"You don't get this blaze until you're on the court," Uncle
Frazier said. "You can gnash your teeth and act like you're full
of determination in front of the camera, but it's the moment when
you're on the court that counts."

"Oh."

"Does your mom know it?"

"Know what?"

"That you're with him."

"He told you?"

"Do I need that?" Uncle Frazier said, smiling. "I'm not blind."

"Well," Lauren said. "You're old and wise, but you can still be
wrong at times. It's about tip off now. Shut up and let's watch
the game. Oh, and tell me if you see the blaze in his eyes.  Oh
yeah, and don't tell mom anything. Get it?"

Uncle Frazier coughed as he laughed.

------------------------------------------------------------

"What are you doing?" Rick said, when he woke up.

Lauren giggled. "Nothing," she said.

"You were pulling my beard," Rick said.

"Yeah," Lauren said. "I was."

"It hurts."

"No, it doesn't," Lauren said. "Shut up."

"You don't like them?"

"Nope."

"Why?"

"Itchy," Lauren said, giggling.

Rick laughed. "Okay," he said. "I'll shave them. But they grow
fast."

"Nah," Lauren said. "I may like it."

"Hey," Rick said. "Do we still need to go over to your place? You
don't seem to have moved everything over yet."

"I'll leave them there for the moment," Lauren said. "The new
roommate may want them, and I have no place to put them, anyway."

"Okay," Rick said. "Hey, do you want to take a vacation after the
season is over?" Rick said. "Where do you want to go? Vegas?
Grand Canyon? Bermuda?"

"Depends," Lauren said.

"Depends on what?"

"If you win the title."

"Oh, no," Rick said. "Come on, beating the Pistons and going into
the second round is already a huge achievement."

"Don't you want it?"

"Yeah," Rick said. "Of course. But I doubt if we're there yet."

"You know what they say?" Lauren said. "The columnists."

"What?"

"They say the Knicks are a totally different team now, compared
to just a few months ago. They say you've been playing like a
MVP, and have led other players to play at the level they had
never been before. Diesel is now a dreadful dunker thanks to your
drive and behind-the-back passes. How can he know you're passing,
anyway? I don't even see the ball before he dunks."

"We practiced that move a lot," Rick said. "When we were still
both on the bench. It all started out trying to have some fun.
He's learned to read the tiny gestures during my drive and know
when I may be passing. We'd also practiced some funny moves. I'll
show you sometime."

"Tiny gestures? What if you don't pass?"

"He doesn't care," Rick said. "That's one good thing about him.
He goes up, doesn't get the ball, he comes down and wait for
another one, or the rebound. He's the most hustle player I've
ever seen."

"But his free throws are still terrible," Lauren said. "All time
lowest percentage. Why don't you practice it more with him?"

"I had," Rick said, and laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"Well, I made a deal with him, told him if he could make four
free throws in a row, I'd pay for a call girl for him. If he
lost, he'd buy me a beer."

"My goodness," Lauren said. "You're the worst jerk I've ever
seen. Is he married?"

"He's separated, I think his divorce should be near conclusion
now."

"Oh, okay," Lauren said. "So did he get any?"

"Nah, but I have a year's stock of beer now."

"Poor Diesel," Lauren said, laughing.

"Anyway," Rick said. "He hired a shooting trainer for himself,
trying to improve. But, you know, he ain't really a basketball
player. He doesn't have that in his head. All he can do is hustle
and dunk. He ain't a basketball player, he's a fighter and a
hustler."

"How much does he make now?"

"Slightly more than me," Rick said. "He still has another year on
his contract."

"Well," Lauren said. "Anyway, I mean, the Knicks are now a
different Knicks. You're a different Rick now. Diesel's a
different Diesel now. Peanut, well, they're now calling him
Coconut. And most others are also different now. So I don't see
any reason why you can't go for the ring now. You may still not
get it, but you can't always wait for the next year."
 
"Well," Rick said. "Do you want to make a deal?"

Lauren laughed, then she slapped his chest. "You're a jerk," she
said. "You already have everything from me."

"I think there's more."

"No," Lauren said, smiling. "Shut up. Next topic."

"Your mom is still not happy that you're with me?

"Well," Laura said, letting out a sigh. "She's still not very
comfortable, but she's okay with it. After all, she knows I know
what I'm doing, and I'm a grown up. Know what?"

"What?"

"I hate Uncle Frazier," Lauren said. "I didn't plan to talk with
mom so early, but I can't trust him. He'll tell her everything he
knows when he gets drunk. Also, Know what?"

"What?" Rick said, still laughing.

"It's all you fault," she said. "You ever look at me with those
lustful eyes again, I'm going to stick my fingernails into your
eyes."

It took a while for Rick to stop laughing.

------------------------------------------------------------

Lauren went into a Starbuck, and saw her former teammates waving
at her from a table at the corner.  She waved at them too, and
went to the counter to buy her coffee before joining them.

"Do you know I hate you?" Candy said to Lauren.

"Why?" Lauren said. "Because I'm sexier than you?"

Candy laughed, and so did Rosanne.  

"Alright," Candy said. "That makes it two reasons. You're sexier,
and you're still the most popular City Dancer."

"How can that be?" Lauren said.

"Because nobody knows you've quit." Rosanne said, still laughing.
"They haven't updated the information."

Lauren laughed. "Not my fault," she said.

"Yes, it is," Candy said. "Give me your driver's license. I want
to be Lauren Gasol."

"No," Rosanne said. "Lauren, give her your new address. She
actually wants your guy."

"Oh, yeah," Candy said. "That too." 

"Stop it," Lauren said, laughing. "Both of you."

"If I had known he was a superhuman in bed," Candy said. "I'd
have taken him without the three hundred seventy five thousand
dollar bet. Am I stupid?"

"Yes, you are," Rosanne said. "Extremely stupid. See how happy
Lauren's laughing now?"

Lauren took some deep breaths to cure the pain in her stomach
from laughing. "You really are a bitch," she said. "And, no, he's
not superhuman, not there." She laughed again.

"Oh my God," Candy said. "You're in love with French fries?"

Lauren slapped Candy in the hand as she laughed. "Stop it," she
said. "Your tears are washing away your make up. You still need
to perform tonight."

"Still lots of time to get prepared," Candy said. "I'm not
worried. Do you think we can wrap up the series tonight?"

"You're a real bonehead," Rosanne said. "We can't wrap up the
series in this game. We can at most take a three-one lead, and
have to win one more game at Philadelphia."

"Oh," Candy said. "I thought it follows the rules of strip
poker."

"I still don't understand, why do we have a dancer who knows
nothing about basketball, not even sports," Rosanne said.

"Why did you join?" Candy said, rolling her eyes.

"Excitement, exposure, resume, and sexual satisfaction," Rosanne
said, laughing. "Oh, and hopefully a MVP boyfriend."

Lauren reached over to slap Rosanne as they laughed again.

"See?" Candy said. "It has nothing to do with basketball. Anyway,
is he still frustrated?"

"Yeah," Rosanne said. "And it's hard on me, too."

"Why?" Lauren said. "I can understand why your boyfriend's
getting frustrated from the postponement, but why hard on you?"

"You know I hate giving blow jobs," Rosanne said, lowering her
voice. "But it's now the only way I can keep him from going on to
vacation without me."

-----------------+