The late afternoon sun filtered through the tall windows of the UCLA gym, casting golden lines across the hardwood floor. The buzz of sneakers and the thud of basketballs filled the air. The team was gathered mid-court, huddled around Ryan and Coach Reilly, sweat glistening on their brows, their focus razor-sharp.
Ryan stood with a clipboard in hand, his eyes moving from player to player. "Alright, listen up. The Fall Invitational starts in three days. This isn't just any tournament. It's a chance to put us on the map before the national rankings lock in. Eyes will be watching."
Coach Reilly stepped in beside him. "We've been grinding for weeks. You're ready. But this isn't about talent alone. It's about discipline, smart plays, and heart."
Ryan pointed to the whiteboard behind him. "Here's how the bracket looks. Eight teams. Quarterfinals first. If we win, it's straight to the semis. One loss and we're out. Simple as that."
Jordan, standing near the front, raised a hand. "Who are we playing first?"
Ryan flipped the clipboard. "Stanford. Tough defense. Physical. They press hard from the start and try to wear you down. But we've seen tougher."
A murmur of focused determination spread across the group.
Tyler leaned forward, his voice steady. "What's the game plan?"
Ryan smiled. "We don't play their game. We control the tempo. We move fast, use the bench smartly, and punish every opening. If they press, we push back harder."
He clapped his hands. "Let's run transition drills. Full-court, high pace. Jordan, take lead. Bench squad, I want to see you locked in. We'll rotate every three minutes."
As the players dispersed into groups, Ivy sat near the scorer's table with her tablet, making notes for the coaching staff. She glanced up at Ryan, catching his eye. He winked, and she rolled her eyes with a smile.
Later, during water break
The team took a knee around Ryan, panting, wiping sweat from their brows. "You guys are improving every day," Ryan said. "But this week, you need to live and breathe this tournament. Watch film. Eat clean. Sleep right. I don't want excuses."
Tyler nodded. "We got this, Coach."
Ryan's gaze softened. "I know you do. You're not just a team—you're a unit. And that unity is going to scare the hell out of Stanford."
Evening – Coaches Office
Coach Reilly sat back in his chair while Ryan leaned over the scouting reports. "They're expecting us to rely on Jordan too much," Ryan said. "Let's throw them off—build the plays around Tyler and Carter early, then hit them with Jordan once they're relaxed."
Reilly raised a brow. "You're thinking like a veteran already."
Ryan shrugged. "Just reading the court."
Reilly smiled. "Let's make this your first tournament win as assistant coach."
Back at the dorms – Ivy & Ryan
As the day wound down, Ivy and Ryan walked along campus, both with coffee in hand. The air was cool, the buzz of fall football floating in the distance.
"You looked locked in today," Ivy said.
Ryan nodded. "It's weird. The more I coach, the more I realize this is exactly where I'm supposed to be."
She bumped him gently with her shoulder. "Then win this one. Show them who you are."
He looked at her with a grin. "You'll be in the stands?"
"Always."