The next morning at Roares Training Center, Ryan walked into the main practice court to find Malik already there, working on floaters by himself.
"You sure you don't want a day or two off?" Ryan asked.
"I'm fine," Malik replied, eyes still on the rim. "I just can't do any heavy contact or load-bearing drills for now."
Soon the rest of the team trickled in, Coach Crawford last as usual. Practice began.
When it came time for tactical movement drills, Crawford glanced at Omar and said flatly, "You're starting next game."
Omar froze mid-movement. After getting torched by Axton in his first non-garbage-time minutes last game—subbed out almost immediately—he'd assumed his role was set in stone. Now this?
"Me? Starting?" he asked, stunned.
Crawford didn't flinch. "Just a spot start to eat up some minutes. Malik's out at least two games. You'll fill in. Your job is to hold the line and wear Axton down a little. I'm not starting five smalls out the gate."
