"Here are the rules.  This is going to be full court, man-on-man defense only. And we’re playing three, 20 minute quarters.  Jerseys, heads or tails?" Coach Cooper asks, pulling a quarter out of her pocket.

"Heads!" Karen shouts out in response, not even bothering to consult her teammates.

"It’s tails, the shirts get the ball first."

Coach Cooper hands Ashley the ball.  We both take our positions facing each other on the side of the court, waiting for the signal to throw the ball inbound.  Ashley stares at me intently for a brief moment, before finally speaking.

"Look, it doesn’t matter what kind of feud we have, we’re on the same team for this game, so we’re going to have to work together."

I was so surprised by her appeal, I could only stare at her in disbelief.  The outward sincerity of the remark almost threatened my resolve to distrust her.  But I knew Ashley was an infamous ball hog, and no one would dare mention her name and sportsmanlike in the same sentence.  Even worse, she was known for taking credit when it was due, and even when it wasn’t.  So if she was trying to play the role of "teammate" now, there had to be a reason behind it.  I was dumbfounded for quite sometime, and didn’t get a chance to respond before I heard the buzzer signaling the clock had started.

Ashley throws me the ball and we both take off down the court.
I slow down when Karen meets me at the top of the three-point line.
It only takes me a few seconds to realize she’s an aggressive defender as she reaches for the ball.  But I’m able to pull back before she gets her hands on it.
I put up my left arm to keep her back, and slowly start to advance, searching for an open teammate or an opening to drive to the basket. 

A few quick seconds, and I spot my chance — an opening to the basket right through the middle of the free throw lane.
I crossover to my right and start drive, when Michelle runs up to double team me.
But that leaves Ashley opens.
And it’s just a brief second before I hear her yelling "ball" and see her cut across the free throw lane, right in front of the basket.  I don’t even stop to think as I hurl the ball at her.
She catches it, dribbling only once before lifting up for a lay-up.
The ball glides off the tips of her fingers, over the rim, and down through the net.