McGill takes the loss with more grace than most.
The post-game handshake line moves quickly, players exchanging brief nods, a few words. McGill's coach pauses when he reaches Elias and puts a hand on his shoulder.
"Next time," he says, "we take it back."
Elias doesn't dismiss it. He nods once, genuinely. "I believe you. We'll be ready."
"We're counting on it."
He means it as a compliment. Elias receives it as one.
He knows this road. He was the younger player once—the one with the talent and the hunger and no idea how brutal the gap between promising and great actually was.
The first time he faced a center who had ten years and a complete system on him, he understood, the arena was already full of gold. You didn't arrive and shine. You carved out your piece or you went home.
The Mc
