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He watched as Wilt ran down the wing of the flagball pitch, the ball rolling a few feet in front of him. The opposition guard, a heavy-set man who was faster than seemed possible for his size, arrowed straight for him. He wasn’t going to stop, that much was clear. He would take both Wilt and the ball out of play in one single, crunching tackle.
The crowd shifted and a tall body moved in front of him, cutting off his view of the pitch. He reached out and pulled roughly at the man’s purse, slipping out and around him as the man spun about to catch the would-be thief. He pushed past him, giving himself an uninterrupted view.
Wilt was still running, stepping over the ball now and chopping it from one side of his body to the other with his trailing leg, changing his angle of attack at the
