“Play the ball in front of you.”
“That’s corny.”
“Yes.”
“Still true.”
Jamal laughed reluctantly.
Derrick continued.
“You beat Harrison.”
“Good.”
“Evan beat you.”
“Also good.”
“Neither is a prophecy.”
That became the lesson Jamal needed more than praise.
Harrison learned it too.
Members kept bringing up the three-point match.
“You found the next champion.”
“Harrison discovered him.”
“Kid came out of nowhere.”
Every phrase irritated him.
One afternoon Harrison corrected a friend.
“I did not discover him.”
Charles Whitcomb laughed.
“You literally found him on Court One.”
“No.”
“He was already ranked.”
“Already coached.”
“Already playing tournaments.”
“I only discovered that I had not been paying attention.”
Charles became quiet.
Good.
Renee heard about the quote through another employee.
She almost respected him.
Almost.
At fourteen, Jamal grew six inches in ten months.
His coordination vanished temporarily.
Serve timing fell apart.
Knees hurt.
Ranking dropped.
Parents around him panicked more than he did.
One suggested a private academy in Florida.
Another said public training had reached its ceiling.
Harrison heard through Susan.
He offered nothing.
Important.
Then Renee called him.
That surprised him.
“Mr. Cole?”
“Renee.”
“My son needs indoor court time this winter.”
Harrison sat up.
“Okay.”
“Do not sound excited.”
He laughed.
“Sorry.”
She continued.
“Derrick says Westbridge has unused late-night court blocks.”
“Yes.”
“I am not asking for charity.”
“Understood.”
“I want to know whether the Bennett Project can rent them at nonprofit rate.”
Harrison smiled.
Institution.
Terms.
Clear.
“Yes.”
Then corrected.
“I believe yes.”
“Susan decides scheduling.”
“Good answer.”
She noticed.
They worked it out.
Bennett players trained at Westbridge Tuesday nights during winter.
Not free.
Discounted nonprofit rate.
Same policy later offered to three other community programs.
Members complained about parking.
Of course.
Change always encountered parking complaints.
Jamal improved.
At fifteen, he won a regional tournament.
At sixteen, he lost in the state semifinal.
At seventeen, college coaches began calling.
Not Stanford.
Not UCLA.
Not a fairy tale.
Several strong Division I and Division II programs.
He cared about academics more than people expected.
Engineering.
His father had been an engineer before tennis consumed his early twenties.
That connection mattered.
But father required explanation.
Marcus Brooks was alive.
Living in Houston.
He and Renee divorced when Jamal was seven.
Before divorce, Marcus coached his son.
Former college player.
Excellent.
Too excellent.
He recognized Jamal’s talent early and made the mistake talented parents often make.
He confused access with destiny.
Private drills at five thirty in the morning.
Tournament travel.
Video analysis.
Nutrition rules.
Too much.
Renee objected.
Marcus said she did not understand elite sport.
Marriage deteriorated around many things.
Tennis became symbol and weapon.
After divorce, Marcus moved for engineering work.
Contact became inconsistent.
Jamal kept tennis.
That surprised everyone.
Especially Renee.