The ball hit the back of the rim, danced on the edge of the iron for what felt like an eternity, and then vanished through the net.
Elias didn’t look at the clock; he felt it in his chest. He drove right, a hard, punishing step that forced Miller to shift his weight. Then, a lightning-fast crossover. The ball hummed against the hardwood. clutch-game
Elias rose. Everything else faded. The roar of the crowd became a distant hum, like wind through trees. He released the ball at the apex of his jump, his fingers flickering in the follow-through. The ball hit the back of the rim,