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"Whoa, what a block! Did you see that!?"
The raccoon-taur landed back on the ground after an extremely well-timed leap, and watched with a grin on his face as the basketball he had just swatted away, went flying into the seventh row of spectators. Luckily for him, it was his team's side of the bleachers, and the ball had flown into the hands of a gleeful mink, who waved heartily. And the taur waved back... somewhat surprised to see that familiar face in the stands.
As he watched the referee signal for the ball to stay with the opponents, the taur could only shrug and listen to the creative string of mumbled curses that came out of his opponent's muzzle. He was having an incredible day against the young, upstart freshman otter his coach told him to guard, and deep into the second half the young lutrine had only two points, both from the charity stripe.
"Providence is simply DOMINATING the young Seashells guard tonight; you gotta feel for Richards and his daunting task to put a stop to his tauric opponent. It may have taken a while for him to blossom here at Caraway State, but you gotta think Emerald Providence makes the Tourmalines a contender to win the FCAA title..."
"You and a few million others, Trevor. Karver Richards down there has NO chance, despite being 6'11" and having a fairly large height advantage on the taur..."
Karver's frustrations were growing with each passing second on the game clock. That much was evident. Every dribble he took on the sideline while the herons in the broadcast booth gushed over the taur's skills grew louder and more forceful. Webbed paws angrily flexed, his face beginning to contort into a scowl. Suddenly, he decided to do the unthinkable: he threw the basketball directly at the raccoon-taur's head.
Unfortunately for him, Merill was waiting for that. He took one for the team, feigning a reaction time that was too slow. The ball smacked into his right cheekbone, and the taur recoiled harshly from the impact. He fell to his left and caused a resounding THUD to echo inside of Gemstone Arena. The whistle blew almost immediately, as the caribou referee blitzed over on his hooves as if he were running from a lion.
"You insane little-" the cervine started, before composing himself just enough to issue his decision calmly. "Kid, you've got some nerve; go hit the showers."
Karver motioned a webbed hand toward Merill, as the taur lay there, clutching his snout and wincing in pain. The crowd booed heartily, some raising pro-Merill signs and chanting unkind, profane phrases toward the incensed lutrine. The otter growled and responded defensively, yelping, "He's faking, you stupid gazelle, tell him to get on his four fat legs and play already!"
The referee smirked and issued the flagrant technical foul signal. Then, the jersey number. One-seven. "Flagrant technical foul, one-seven, white. Immediate ejection and suspension for the next game. Two shots and possession to yellow. And kid, I'm not a gazelle; get lost before I file for you to get suspended more than just the one game."
The otter was in complete shock. The Shreveport Seashells were undefeated going into this game, #1 in all the national polls, and riding Karver's ferocious point-guard play to over 110 points per game, including forty-two a game from the otter alone. But here he was, held to two points, one assist, and three rebounds, all while committing nine turnovers. And all because he'd been stopped by a tauric terror, on a team not even ranked coming into the game!
"Well, this is big, Trevor... Richards has just been ejected!" The black heron looked down at the court, where Merill was now getting back onto his feet, to the sheer delight of the hometown crowd. They cheered and heckled Karver's exit, then gave Merill a standing ovation once he was up and moving again. "And looks like other than a nice bruise on his cheek, our six-limbed star is unhurt! What a relief."
The white heron offered a nod and a smirk to his counterpart, adding, "You bet, Richter; even though the Tourmalines have a thirty-one point lead at this point, losing Emerald would have been a MAJOR blow to this team's psyche. You know, you gotta wonder if he could've gotten out of the way of that one..."
The pair of avians smiled knowingly at each other. Of course he could have! This was just the way the procyonid played his basketball. He'd take fouls, charges, balls to the face... hell, just about anything he had to. As long as his team got the win, it was all worth it.
Merill came to his side of the court, standing ready at the free-throw line to take his two free shots. He stood alone, as someone flagrantly fouled would have to. But the confident look in his eyes betrayed any sign of fear he had, as the pass from the caribou ref came in perfectly. He bounced the ball twice, then stood tall and fired.
SWOOSH. The crowd went nuts. Nothing but net, just as the taur planned it.
"Nailed it. No surprise, Richter; he's been in a completely different zone than everyone else tonight. Thirty points, two assists, eleven rebounds, six steals... all without a single turnover."
"Yep, and he's missed just one shot, that half-court heave at the end of the half that clanked off the back of the rim. He's picked a heck of a good time to have his best career game, I'd say."
The ball came back to Merill, and he took a single dribble before his next shot. Again, SWOOSH, much to his fans' delight. Two perfect free throws, a thirty-three point lead, and possession at midcourt to boot. The arena roared with applause once the ball flew through the bottom of the net.
"Well, with just 1:02 left in the game, it's clear that the Tourmalines are going to run away with a massive upset of the nation's top team. 93-60, Caraway State, Tourmalines ball." The black heron grinned softly, looking at his counterpart and nodding plainly.
"Yeah, yeah... I know you picked the Tourmalines to win by double-digits, Richter, no need to rub it in." Trevor sighed softly; he had the Seashells winning a nail-biter. In fact, odds were that many people would be losing bets on this game...
Merill passed the ball in-bounds and made a dash toward the hoop. A six-foot alligator tossed the ball upward, and the taur leapt skyward at the free-throw line, headed toward the rim with his arms stretched back to receive the alley-oop.
"Whoa... look at that leap!" Richter shouted suddenly, the moment Merill's paws left the ground. "He's insanely open... it's like the Red Sea on that court!"
Suddenly, cameras flashed all around the stadium. Immediately, the whole scene began to feel like a dream. Merill's yellow-and-blue jersey shone with Biloxi's namesake and his number twelve, his green eyes twinkling with the glitter of absolute freedom. The rest of his dunk seemed an eternity, from the instant he touched the ball to the point where his hands met the rim. It was glorious... all the bulbs kept going off, chants of his name rang through the arena...
SWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH.
"There's the dagger! Holy mother, what a dunk!"
And then he snapped back to reality. His Tourmalines jersey was back, the Biloxi getup seeming so far away now. The cameras, still flashing as he hung briefly from the rim, felt just a little less magical and dreamy. The chants died down, though the applause was still thunderous. The taur fell to his feet, winking at his hometown side and jogging the sideline.
Whistles blew. The Seashells were calling a timeout. His rhino coach patted him on the shoulder and smiled. "That's my taur. Take a rest; you've earned it, superstar."
Merill sighed and nodded dejectedly. He didn't wanna sit on the bench, but he knew it was for everyone's good. His freshmen teammates needed some junk time to work on their skills, and he didn't need to hurt himself and damage his draft stock. Plus... he was tired. He grabbed his bottle and drank at least a good quart of water, panting softly and flexing his forepaws into the ground.
"Well, Providence is sitting, and can you blame him? Thirty-three points, a suffocating defensive game against the nation's top freshman, and a dagger into the hearts of the top-ranked Seashells. You KNOW our Tourmalines are going to make noise in the rankings after this, Trevor."
And they did. The next polls pushed Caraway State to #9, and Shreveport fell to #23. The Seashells went on to miss the FCAA tourney, while Merill and Caraway State rode that victory into a flourish of momentum, carrying themselves all the way into the semifinals of the tourney. Though they lost that game, Merill's efforts weren't forgotten.
He was one of the top choices for FCAA player of the year, a first-teamer on the all-FCAA team, and a highly-respected member of his squad. The Tourmalines all point to that game as the marker when Merill truly stepped up and began pulling his leadership qualities into focus. Meanwhile, Karver Richards, the freshman sensation that Merill shut down that day, spent the rest of the year as a benchwarmer as punishment for the unprovoked toss. He quit the team shortly after the season ended, and announced his transfer to Lutrine Tech for the upcoming year.
"To this day, Merill can tell you all of these things about that game in Gemstone Arena," Caraway State coach Christophe Einhorn recalls. "But that one moment, where the cameras flashed and his world changed before his eyes... that one's going to stick out forever. It awakened the beast inside of him, and he's been dynamic from that moment on..."
Love this? Love the original!
Art ©
Thumbnailer ©
and 
Biloxi Voodoo ©
Story, Merill Providence and all other personnel ©
The raccoon-taur landed back on the ground after an extremely well-timed leap, and watched with a grin on his face as the basketball he had just swatted away, went flying into the seventh row of spectators. Luckily for him, it was his team's side of the bleachers, and the ball had flown into the hands of a gleeful mink, who waved heartily. And the taur waved back... somewhat surprised to see that familiar face in the stands.
As he watched the referee signal for the ball to stay with the opponents, the taur could only shrug and listen to the creative string of mumbled curses that came out of his opponent's muzzle. He was having an incredible day against the young, upstart freshman otter his coach told him to guard, and deep into the second half the young lutrine had only two points, both from the charity stripe.
"Providence is simply DOMINATING the young Seashells guard tonight; you gotta feel for Richards and his daunting task to put a stop to his tauric opponent. It may have taken a while for him to blossom here at Caraway State, but you gotta think Emerald Providence makes the Tourmalines a contender to win the FCAA title..."
"You and a few million others, Trevor. Karver Richards down there has NO chance, despite being 6'11" and having a fairly large height advantage on the taur..."
Karver's frustrations were growing with each passing second on the game clock. That much was evident. Every dribble he took on the sideline while the herons in the broadcast booth gushed over the taur's skills grew louder and more forceful. Webbed paws angrily flexed, his face beginning to contort into a scowl. Suddenly, he decided to do the unthinkable: he threw the basketball directly at the raccoon-taur's head.
Unfortunately for him, Merill was waiting for that. He took one for the team, feigning a reaction time that was too slow. The ball smacked into his right cheekbone, and the taur recoiled harshly from the impact. He fell to his left and caused a resounding THUD to echo inside of Gemstone Arena. The whistle blew almost immediately, as the caribou referee blitzed over on his hooves as if he were running from a lion.
"You insane little-" the cervine started, before composing himself just enough to issue his decision calmly. "Kid, you've got some nerve; go hit the showers."
Karver motioned a webbed hand toward Merill, as the taur lay there, clutching his snout and wincing in pain. The crowd booed heartily, some raising pro-Merill signs and chanting unkind, profane phrases toward the incensed lutrine. The otter growled and responded defensively, yelping, "He's faking, you stupid gazelle, tell him to get on his four fat legs and play already!"
The referee smirked and issued the flagrant technical foul signal. Then, the jersey number. One-seven. "Flagrant technical foul, one-seven, white. Immediate ejection and suspension for the next game. Two shots and possession to yellow. And kid, I'm not a gazelle; get lost before I file for you to get suspended more than just the one game."
The otter was in complete shock. The Shreveport Seashells were undefeated going into this game, #1 in all the national polls, and riding Karver's ferocious point-guard play to over 110 points per game, including forty-two a game from the otter alone. But here he was, held to two points, one assist, and three rebounds, all while committing nine turnovers. And all because he'd been stopped by a tauric terror, on a team not even ranked coming into the game!
"Well, this is big, Trevor... Richards has just been ejected!" The black heron looked down at the court, where Merill was now getting back onto his feet, to the sheer delight of the hometown crowd. They cheered and heckled Karver's exit, then gave Merill a standing ovation once he was up and moving again. "And looks like other than a nice bruise on his cheek, our six-limbed star is unhurt! What a relief."
The white heron offered a nod and a smirk to his counterpart, adding, "You bet, Richter; even though the Tourmalines have a thirty-one point lead at this point, losing Emerald would have been a MAJOR blow to this team's psyche. You know, you gotta wonder if he could've gotten out of the way of that one..."
The pair of avians smiled knowingly at each other. Of course he could have! This was just the way the procyonid played his basketball. He'd take fouls, charges, balls to the face... hell, just about anything he had to. As long as his team got the win, it was all worth it.
Merill came to his side of the court, standing ready at the free-throw line to take his two free shots. He stood alone, as someone flagrantly fouled would have to. But the confident look in his eyes betrayed any sign of fear he had, as the pass from the caribou ref came in perfectly. He bounced the ball twice, then stood tall and fired.
SWOOSH. The crowd went nuts. Nothing but net, just as the taur planned it.
"Nailed it. No surprise, Richter; he's been in a completely different zone than everyone else tonight. Thirty points, two assists, eleven rebounds, six steals... all without a single turnover."
"Yep, and he's missed just one shot, that half-court heave at the end of the half that clanked off the back of the rim. He's picked a heck of a good time to have his best career game, I'd say."
The ball came back to Merill, and he took a single dribble before his next shot. Again, SWOOSH, much to his fans' delight. Two perfect free throws, a thirty-three point lead, and possession at midcourt to boot. The arena roared with applause once the ball flew through the bottom of the net.
"Well, with just 1:02 left in the game, it's clear that the Tourmalines are going to run away with a massive upset of the nation's top team. 93-60, Caraway State, Tourmalines ball." The black heron grinned softly, looking at his counterpart and nodding plainly.
"Yeah, yeah... I know you picked the Tourmalines to win by double-digits, Richter, no need to rub it in." Trevor sighed softly; he had the Seashells winning a nail-biter. In fact, odds were that many people would be losing bets on this game...
Merill passed the ball in-bounds and made a dash toward the hoop. A six-foot alligator tossed the ball upward, and the taur leapt skyward at the free-throw line, headed toward the rim with his arms stretched back to receive the alley-oop.
"Whoa... look at that leap!" Richter shouted suddenly, the moment Merill's paws left the ground. "He's insanely open... it's like the Red Sea on that court!"
Suddenly, cameras flashed all around the stadium. Immediately, the whole scene began to feel like a dream. Merill's yellow-and-blue jersey shone with Biloxi's namesake and his number twelve, his green eyes twinkling with the glitter of absolute freedom. The rest of his dunk seemed an eternity, from the instant he touched the ball to the point where his hands met the rim. It was glorious... all the bulbs kept going off, chants of his name rang through the arena...
SWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH.
"There's the dagger! Holy mother, what a dunk!"
And then he snapped back to reality. His Tourmalines jersey was back, the Biloxi getup seeming so far away now. The cameras, still flashing as he hung briefly from the rim, felt just a little less magical and dreamy. The chants died down, though the applause was still thunderous. The taur fell to his feet, winking at his hometown side and jogging the sideline.
Whistles blew. The Seashells were calling a timeout. His rhino coach patted him on the shoulder and smiled. "That's my taur. Take a rest; you've earned it, superstar."
Merill sighed and nodded dejectedly. He didn't wanna sit on the bench, but he knew it was for everyone's good. His freshmen teammates needed some junk time to work on their skills, and he didn't need to hurt himself and damage his draft stock. Plus... he was tired. He grabbed his bottle and drank at least a good quart of water, panting softly and flexing his forepaws into the ground.
"Well, Providence is sitting, and can you blame him? Thirty-three points, a suffocating defensive game against the nation's top freshman, and a dagger into the hearts of the top-ranked Seashells. You KNOW our Tourmalines are going to make noise in the rankings after this, Trevor."
And they did. The next polls pushed Caraway State to #9, and Shreveport fell to #23. The Seashells went on to miss the FCAA tourney, while Merill and Caraway State rode that victory into a flourish of momentum, carrying themselves all the way into the semifinals of the tourney. Though they lost that game, Merill's efforts weren't forgotten.
He was one of the top choices for FCAA player of the year, a first-teamer on the all-FCAA team, and a highly-respected member of his squad. The Tourmalines all point to that game as the marker when Merill truly stepped up and began pulling his leadership qualities into focus. Meanwhile, Karver Richards, the freshman sensation that Merill shut down that day, spent the rest of the year as a benchwarmer as punishment for the unprovoked toss. He quit the team shortly after the season ended, and announced his transfer to Lutrine Tech for the upcoming year.
"To this day, Merill can tell you all of these things about that game in Gemstone Arena," Caraway State coach Christophe Einhorn recalls. "But that one moment, where the cameras flashed and his world changed before his eyes... that one's going to stick out forever. It awakened the beast inside of him, and he's been dynamic from that moment on..."
Love this? Love the original!
Art ©
Thumbnailer ©
and 
Biloxi Voodoo ©
Story, Merill Providence and all other personnel ©
Category Artwork (Digital) / General Furry Art
Species Raccoon
Size 1200 x 1263px
File Size 1.33 MB
Comments