Desperate Measures: The Baller

"Alright, alright," Russell said. "You can play. You're a baller. Let's make this game a little more interesting."

"I'm listening," Sergio replied. "What's on your mind?"

"Let's up the bet."

"How much?"

"Five hundred."

"Five hundred? I don't know. You're already ahead."

"You've already got my money. Are you a pussy, or what? Open your fucking purse and pull out some more money, bitch."

"Let's do it. I'm good."

"Baby!" Russell shouted at Yesenia. "Get out four bills!"

"What the fuck you saying, Russell? You know I gotta pay the rent this week."

"Just do it, baby. I got this."

"You better know what you're doing. If you fuck this up, I'll cut you off."

"Don't worry. I'm about to take care of business."

Sergio peeled another four hundred dollar bills out of his pocket and handed them to Yesenia.

"Keep these warm," he said. "I will like them to smell like your breasts when you give them back to me."

"Shut the fuck up. You ain't ever gonna see this money again."

Sergio walked back onto the court. Russell flipped the ball to him. Sergio dribbled to his right and launched a fifteen foot jumper. The ball clanged off the rim. Russell pounced on the rebound, dribbled to the line, and sank a twenty-one footer. The crowd whooped and hollered.

"Fourteen, twelve. Time to get paid."

Sergio handed the ball to Russell, who blew right past him and jammed home a thunderous dunk.

"Game."

Yesenia danced onto the court, shaking her ass and jiggling her breasts with every step.

"I knew you could do it, baby. I knew it."

"I told you it was in the bank. Nobody beats me here."

"One more?" Sergio interrupted.

"Bitch--haven't you learned your lesson yet?"

"It would be rude to not give me a chance to win my money back, right?"

"I gotta give you credit, Euro, you're learning. Give your money to Yesenia."

"A thousand, this time?"

"Sure, I'll take your thousand--cash only."

Sergio reached into his pocket and counted ten hundred dollar bills. He folded them in half, handed the stack to Yesenia, and returned to the court.

"One, two, three," Yesenia counted. "Four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, a thousand--it's all here, baby. Take him out."

"Zero, zero," Sergio said, tossing the ball to Russell.

Russell made the first shot, but his second shot clanged off the rim. Sergio grabbed the rebound and a sank a rainbow from the corner. He then rattled off six more shots before missing. The ball grazed Russell's fingers as it veered out of bounds.

"Seven, one," Sergio growled as he flipped the ball to Russell.

Russell slapped the ball with his massive black hand, but he held it rather than pass it back to Sergio.

"Don't count your money yet, Euro," he said to Sergio. "I'm still gonna whip your ass."

"I think I like my chances in this one," Sergio answered. "It's seven, one. Are you ready to finish it?"

"Ho-hold on. Just a second. I'll tell you what. I'm so sure that you aren't going to score another point, I'll raise the bet to $3000. What do you say?"

"It's seven, one. Are your American schools so bad that they don't teach you basic mathematics? Don't understand I am too far ahead of you?"

"If you think it's a done deal, then put up the money--another $2000. What do you have to lose? Or don't you have that much cash?"

"It will make me happy to take all of your money from you. But please, try to make another shot so I do not get arrested for robbery."

"Just count out the bills and get ready to kiss them good-bye. I'm about to unleash a major league whooping on your white ass."

Sergio counted out another two thousand dollars and handed them to Yesenia. Her eyes brightened as she counted the bills before stuffing them in the back pocket of her shorts.

"Take it, bitch," Russell sneered at Sergio.

Russell threw the ball at Sergio and then settled into a defensive crouch. Sergio caught the ball, dribbled back a step, and launched a shot from beyond the arc. The ball jangled in the rim, then bounced out. Russell scooped up the rebound and dribbled to the edge of the circle.

"You better get out of my way, Euro," Russell chided, "unless you want to go home with Spalding tattooed all over your face."

Russell bounced the ball twice, then blew past Sergio. He took off at the foul line, hung in the air for a few seconds, and then came down with a rim-rattling slam dunk. Sergio just stood at mid-court and stared.

"Yeah, I recognize that stupid look on your face. I've seen it before. You're beginning to understand the kind of trouble you're in. I hope that wasn't your rent money or something like that, 'cause you must be smart enough to know by now that you aren't seeing any of that money coming back. It's mine, bitch. Mine. Accept the truth, and this will go easier for you. Fight it, and you'll think I'm fucking you in the ass with a cactus."

Sergio retrieved the ball and tossed it to Russell. Russell sank his next six shots to take his first lead of the game at 8-7.

"Do you wanna quit now, or should we continue?"

"The game is to fifteen. You are only at eight."

"Do you know who I am? This is Russell mother fucking Montgomery you're talking to. I never fucking lose. This is my park. These are my people. Ask anyone here. I never fucking lose. I can't lose."

"So you say. Let's play."

"Alright, bitch. But I'm done playing around with you. This game is over."

"Do it, baby!" Yesenia cheered from the sideline. "Time to get paid!"

Sergio bounced the ball to Russell. Russell grabbed the ball, dribbled right, faked to his left, then blew past Sergio--who went to the ground as he tried to catch up. Russell slammed an uncontested dunk.

"What happened? Break your ankles again?" Russell taunted. "That shit happens sometimes, especially when you're playing against me. You should probably get an x-ray or something. Nine, seven."

Sergio pulled himself off the ground, retrieved the ball, and limped back to the line. He handed the ball to Russell, then settled back to defend. Russell dribbled to his right, then reverse dribbled to his left, spinning around the hobbled Sergio--whose feet seemed to be anchored in cement. Russell pulled up and sank a ten footer over Sergio's outstretched arms.

"Ten, seven. You ready to concede?"

"No. We play. Double the bet?"

Russell howled with laughter.

"You're joking, right? You can't even run. Hell, you couldn't beat that little cocksucker, Jamal. You shouldn't even dream about playing me right now. You couldn't win if you was healthy, and you ain't healthy now. You're a fucking cripple. Face it, you can't win, bitch."

"Are you afraid?"

"Afraid of you? Aw, hell no. Hell no! Show me the money, and it's on."

Sergio reached into his pocket and pulled out another three thousand dollars. He handed the bills to Yesenia, who stuffed them into her pocket.

"You're taking me out tonight!" Yesenia shouted. "You hear me Russell? I'm putting on a dress and we're going out somewhere nice."

"Anywhere you want, baby. It don't matter to me."

"Ten, seven." Sergio glared, tossing the ball to Russell.

Just as he did the previous time he had the ball, Russell dribbled right and then spun to his left. Sergio anticipated the move, slid into the lane, and deflected the ball away from Russell. He beat Russell to the lose ball, dribbled to the corner, and sank a twenty-one footer.

"Ten, eight."

Sergio made his next two shots to tie the game. He missed a turn around jumper from the top of the key, and Russell beat him to the rebound. Russell dribbled to the line, then streaked past Sergio and slammed the ball through the hole.

"Eleven, ten."

Over the next ten minutes the two men exchanged hard-earned baskets. Meanwhile, the crowd swelled in the afternoon heat. Money continued to exchange hands as bets were placed on every shot. Yesenia jumped up and down every time Russell made a shot, and cursed whenever Sergio scored. Wads of cash bulged out her pockets and her jiggling bikini top.

"Fourteen all," Russell announced as he gasped for air. "Two more buckets, and I win,"

"You will not going to win. Two more buckets by me, and the money your little girlfriend is keeping warm will be mine. I will enjoy the scent of her big juicy breasts every time I spend a dollar of it."

"Bitch, I'm going to take your money and then I'm gonna fuck you all the way back to Europe or wherever the hell your sorry ass came from. I'm gonna put a cap in your ass and then fuck your dead skull."

"If you are so confident, then let's double the bet."

"You're on, faggot."

"Russell!" Yesenia shouted.

"Be quiet!" Russell barked at Yesenia. "I've got this."

"Let me see your money, first," Sergio said.

"Let me see yours."

"Show me yours and I show you mine, is it? OK, no problem. Give me five minutes to go to my car, and then I'll show you mine."

"If you aren't back in five minutes, you forfeit. Understand?"

"Like I say, there are no problems. And your girlfriend has your money?"

"Don't worry, I've got it covered."

Sergio turned around and jogged toward the fence. Jeers followed him as he exited through the gate and disappeared around the corner.

"Russell, are you out of your fucking mind?" Yesenia screamed.

"Shit, that mother fucker ain't coming back. In five minutes, all the money you're holding is ours."

"And if he does?"

"Then I take him down."

"Baby, we don't have enough cash to cover the bet."

"I said, don't worry about it. That shiny ass Euro-trash piece of shit can't beat me. I've been playing with that pussy all afternoon. I know every move he has, and when he's going to use them. Hell, I know what he's going to do even before he does. That bitch couldn't beat me on his best day. I've got that mother fucker right where I want him."

"I think you're underestimating him. Think about it--why would a white guy who barely speaks English bring his ass down to this park to play if he didn't have game?"

"Oh, he's got game. No doubt about that. He's just not in my league. I'm just saying..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah--you're just saying. That's what you always say right before you get your black ass in trouble. That's what you said the day you lost your job, the day you got our butts evicted from our last apartment, the day your baby mama got you arrested for violating the restraining order--I could go on and on."

"Bitch! I'm working here. This park is my office. One more minute and we're six thousand dollars richer. Now go sit your fat ass down and wait for me to finish my business."

A cheer went up from the crowd, the gate swung open, and Sergio jogged back onto the court. He was sporting a dry t-shirt and carrying a case of ice cold Gatorade, which he distributed to the crowd.

"Six thousand dollars," he announced as he handed the stack of bills to Yesenia. "And now, where is your money?"

"Don't worry. I'm good for it."

"I have shown you mine, now it is time to see yours. Let me see it."

"I said, I'm good for it. Everyone here knows that."

"Mr. Russell, you and I are men. We have a bet. I obtained my money and produced it on the good faith of your promise to also obtain the money. Where I come from, if you cannot produce your money, then you have forfeited the bet and I win."

"Russell! God damn you, Russell!" Yesenia screamed.

"Bitch, I'm good for it! Now let's run."

"Mr. Russell, if you cannot produce your money, then I will win. Do you have the money?"

"Look, I'm good for the cash. Let's play."

"I am sorry, Mr. Russell, but I am going to call this a forfeit."

"Bitch, you can't beat me and you know it. You're starting to piss me off. Now, let's go."

"Unless you can come up with another $6000 in cash or something of equal value, then I have already won."

"What do you mean, 'equal value'?"

"Do you have a watch, some gold jewelry?"

"Not worth that much."

"A car?"

"I got a car."

"Russell!" Yesenia screamed.

"What kind of car?" Sergio asked.

"Cadillac--CTS," Russell answered.

"What year?"

"2006."

"Go get the title, sign it over to me, give it to your girlfriend along with the keys, and then we're good."

"Russell!" Yesenia repeated. "You are not betting my car!"

"Relax, baby. Everything's under control."

"I am going to kill you. You know I need my car to get around town for work."

"Bitch--I said everything's under control. This Euro pussy can't beat me."

"Russell--I swear..."

"Shut it, dammit. Go get the title and come right back."

Yesenia stormed off the court. Russell high-fived some of the bystanders surrounding the court, while Sergio dribbled to the three-point line and practiced his shot. He clanged several shots off the rim, while Russell looked on and trash talked with the bystanders. Someone tossed a ball to Russell, who then turned and flipped it through the hoop without even looking at the basket.

"I told ya," he said to the crowd, "I can't lose."

Fifteen minutes later, Yesenia returned. With a pen and a small piece of blue paper in hand, she walked in Russell's direction.

"You better know what the fuck you're doing, asshole," she barked. "This is my car, you know. We only put it in your name because of that IRS problem I had last year."

"Your car's going to be fine. And after I sink two more shots, we'll have enough money to trade it in and get that Mercedes you wanted."

"You promise?"

"I promise. Now go sit down and shut the fuck up while I take care of business."

Yesenia walked off the court. Russell took the ball and flipped it to Sergio.

"Fourteen all," Sergio announced. "Win by two."

Sergio tossed the ball to Russell. Russell dribbled right, spun around, and backed into Sergio. He faked right, then left, then right again. Russell backed up a step and launched a seventeen foot jumper from the right side of the court. Sergio leaped into the air and swatted the ball into the crowd.

"Your ball," Sergio said.

A bystander tossed the ball to Russell. Russell flipped the ball to Sergio, who slapped it back to Russell. Russell dribbled to his left, then cut to his right. He spun around Sergio and drove for the backboard. Russell dribbled once, then lunged toward the hoop. At the apex of his leap he rolled the ball off his fingers. Just as the ball was about to carom off the backboard and through the hoop, Sergio soared in from behind and pinned the ball against the steel surface. Sergio retrieved the rebound and dribbled back to the circle.

Astonished, Russell stood still for a second before hustling to the center of the court.

"Check?" Sergio asked.

"Play it." Russell answered.

Sergio jumped into the air and launched the ball. Russell jumped to block it, but his fingers caught only air. The ball sailed through the hoop, touching only chain. Russell stared in disbelief, then retrieved the ball and threw it at Sergio.

"Fifteen, fourteen," he said.

"Game point," Sergio added.

Sergio took the ball and dribbled to his right. He backed Russell into the corner, and then spun back toward the center of the court. He dribbled left, then right, then left again. He waited until Russell's ankles were pointed in two different directions, and then accelerated past him. Sergio jumped at the rim and slammed the ball through with both hands.

"Game!" he yelled.

The crowd went silent for a second, and then pandemonium broke out. Half the crowd whooped and hollered, happy to see Russell finally lose. The other half was stunned, unable to accept the possibility that Russell could actually be defeated. Every baller there had lost money to him. Some were hustled for twenty-five dollars, others for much more.

One person was off by himself, drinking in the moment. Jamal stood beneath the rim at the far end of the court, an insane grin painted on his face. While he would have been happy just to witness the defeat of his nemesis, having played an active part in Russell's downfall made the moment so much sweeter. His gaze swept back and forth from Russell's shocked face to Sergio's exultant swagger. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Yesenia sneaking through the commotion.

"Yesenia?" Sergio called into the crowd. "Yesenia!"

Standing a head taller than everyone except Russell, Sergio had little difficulty locating Yesenia as she edged her way through the crowd in the direction of the gate. Sergio locked eyes with Jamal and then tilted his head toward Yesenia. Jamal nodded, and then strode in Yesenia's direction. He intercepted her before she could leave the court.

"Going somewhere, Yesenia?" Jamal asked.

"Get out of my way," she sneered.

"Don't you have a little unfinished business?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Now get the fuck out of my way."

"I'm not going anywhere. You've got something in your pocket that no longer belongs to you."

"What does this have to do with you?"

"Nothing, really. I just want to make sure Russell pays his bets. You've certainly collected enough money when Russell wins--especially from me."

"Did you...?"

"Yesenia!" Sergio bellowed. "That is your name, right--Yesenia?"

"Leave me alone."

"Just give me the keys and the title and you'll never see me again."

"You can't have them. It's my car. I need it for work."

"It's my car now."

"Russell!" Yesenia screamed. "Russell! Get your ass over here!"

Russell forced his towering, sweaty body through the crowd. By the time he reached Yesenia, a circle of onlookers surrounded her and Sergio.

"Let's go, Jess," Russell mumbled.

"Hold on," Sergio interrupted. "Nobody is going anywhere until you hand over the title and keys."

"Fuck you, bitch," Russell said without conviction. "I'm taking my girl and we're going home."

"Not before we settle up."

"Jess, give him his money," Russell said to Yesenia. "Take the money, and we'll call it even. You can't have the car."

"Mr. Russell, that's not how I do business. We made a wager. We played. You lost. I win the car. That's all there is to it."

"Listen, Euro-asshole. You can't have the car. I don't know how you beat me, but you can't have it. Now just take your money and go."

"Mr. Russell, I don't have time for this. I'm not going to ask you again. Give me the title and the keys, and then you are free to go."

"Free to go?! What the fuck are you talking about, bitch? This is my park. These are my people. Nobody's going to let you walk out of here with the keys to my car."

Sergio nodded.

Click.

A hulking figure with a shaved head and sunglasses placed a gun barrel to the back of Russell's head.

"Mr. Russell--my car keys."

"Russell!" Yesenia screamed. "That's my car! Russell! Russell!"

"I was afraid you would renege on our wager, Mr. Russell, so I took the liberty of calling my bodyguards." Sergio nodded at two armed brutes milling about the crowd.

"Who the fuck are you?" Russell asked.

"Let me introduce myself. I am Sergio--Sergio de la Cruz. Now, the title and my keys?"

"Give them to him, Jess."

"Russell! No! I have to work tomorrow morning! I'll lose my job if I don't give Mr. Whitaker his shots by eight."

"Jess, it's over. There's a gun pressed against my head. Give him the keys. You can take the bus."

"Please!" Yesenia sobbed. "Please! I have to work! I'm a nurse! I have to be at Mrs. Sylvester's apartment to change her oxygen tank by two. I don't have time to wait for the bus."

"Yesenia?" Sergio asked.

"Please! It's not his car. It's mine--it's always been mine. I can't work without it. I have to be able to get around the city. Please! Russell, do something!"

"Sergio...Mr. Cruz..." Russell pleaded.

"Sr. de la Cruz," Sergio corrected.

"Sr. de la Cruz. Let's play one more game--double or nothing."

"Mr. Russell, you've lost everything. You don't have anything else to bet. If you did, I wouldn't own your girlfriend's car. I'm afraid there is no point to play another game."