A story I wrote for the FBA, regarding Clifford's family and why he performed poorly in game 1 of the Combine Challenge.



“Mom, slow down – just slow down a minute,” Clifford said into the phone, a knot forming in his throat. “Just slow down. ...What happened to Dad?” he asked, his voice growing very quiet. 

“His back. We, um...we don't know...know what exactly it is, but...it just gave out,” Angelica managed to stammer in between the tears. 

“...G-gave out?” The mutt stuttered, his mind going blank. “Is he okay?” he asked urgently.

“No...he's home now...in a lot of pain...a lot of pain...he...he didn't want me to...call you, but I don't know what to do, Cliff,” Angelica said, choking out each word.

“Mom, listen-” Clifford began, his chest tightening.

“We can't afford another trip to the doctor,” Angelica sobbed, her voice breaking.

Clifford's head went foggy and the room began to spin. Clifford stumbled backwards, the hotel bed stopping his momentum and forcing him to sit. Propping his head up in his hands, the mutt did his best to think. 

But he couldn't think. The first of two combine challenge games was in less than an hour, and now his family's financial situation was at a breaking point. With Kevin unable to work, Angelica could only sustain the family for so long on her own. Within months, both his parents would be on the streets. 

The fate of his family was now entirely on his two shoulders.

“M-mom, just listen to me. Listen to me,” Clifford began, taking a deep breath. “I'm...I'm going to get drafted, okay? I'm going to get drafted, you and dad can retire, and we can afford back surgery or something for dad, okay? We just...” he trailed off, biting his lip. “We just have to wait for the draft. We just have to wait...”

He felt like he was making an empty promise. His draft stock was hardly ensured; nobody was talking about him. The scouts weren't taking notice. The press wasn't taking notice. He had no idea if the coaches and GMs were noticing, either. He had no honest idea if he'd be drafted, top 24 status or not. It was just like trying to get accepted into a college program all over again, where he faced nothing but uncertainty about his future. And this time, Clifford wasn't sure if he'd luck out. 

The conversation fell silent, inbetween Angelica's stifled tears.

“...W-what do we do until then?” she asked finally, sounding as if she were placing all her hope on Clifford alone. But he didn't know what to do. Kevin was in pain...and they couldn't stop it. 

“Just, just let dad rest. Keep him off his feet. I...don't...don't really know what else we can do,” Clifford said hopelessly. 

The conversation fell quiet again. The receiver's background noise hummed in Clifford's ear for what felt like an eternity.

“Son, I...I'm s-sorry,” Angelica stammered.

“Don't be, mom. It's nobody's fault. We'll...we'll figure this out, okay?” Clifford said, doing his best to sound confident. But he wasn't. He wasn't at all confident.

He was terrified.

---

The shots weren't falling. Off the rim. Off the rim. His shooting form felt okay at the very least, but the ball simply wasn't complying. Clifford's natural rhythm had left him completely. Simply put, his head wasn't in the game. This was a big game, too. This was the combine challenge, a game that may very well decide his fate going forward into his potential career. Of course, this case of nerves wasn't just from the game: Clifford handled big games like they were schoolyard pickup games. This was different. He'd never faced pressure like this before. His family's livelihood counted on him, and all he could think about was what would happen to his family if he wasn't drafted. 

The halftime buzzer sounded, and Clifford jogged over to the bench, trying to collect his thoughts. He wasn't playing well, and he knew it. He tried to think about the game, but all he could think about was his tumbling draft stock, and what was going to happen to his family. As he tried to gather himself, a familiar voice spoke.

"You alright, CC?"

Damian Williams walked next to Cliff as the rest of the team made their way into the locker room. He knew that look on Carlin anywhere. The dog was down and Damian needed him to focus on the second half. Having trailed the whole game, he had to get Cliff back in the zone.

Cliff glanced up at his old friend, not even sure where to begin. Damian was the only person he could trust, and Cliff needed his ear right now. "Dude, I'm...my family..." Carlin started, sighing deeply, before it all came bubbling to the surface. "My dad's back gave out today. He can't work anymore. He's in pain. We can't go to the doctor and my mom can't support the family on her own. If I don't get drafted, I'm, we're, my family will be fucked, dude. We'll be on the fucking streets by October," the mutt blurted, stumbling over words, his voice trembling.

Damian held up Cliff, letting the rest of the team walk or jog ahead. He pulled Carlin off to the side and looked around to make sure no one was listening. "I'm sorry man. That's rough. But right now you're letting that mess with your head. This game ain't about savin' your family. If you add all that pressure you're gonna keep forcin' things like you have been."

Williams put his hand on the mutt's shoulder. "Look...I'm not one to talk about family problems, but remember what you told me in Hawaii? I can't stress about it. I can't let it rule me. I get what you're goin' through. This is all we've got CC. But right now, you're untouchable."

Clifford was on the verge of tears when his old friend had begun speaking. Damian certainly knew how to give the right kind of pep talk at the right time, and this was no exception. Even though every word rang true, Clifford couldn't yet shake the nerves. He'd gone far beyond a case of anxiety at this point; it was pure, blind fear that was hampering the mutt. The fear of having to watch his father endure the pain. The fear of letting his mother and father down. The fear of not being able to help them after they'd spent his entire life helping him no matter how tight the family finances were. But Damian was right; he couldn't let it rule him, and in his faltering first half, the mutt had lost sight of that.

Damian pointed back up the tunnel, and Clifford's eyes followed before Damian continued. "Between those lines is our sanctuary. It's where we've always escaped. Where we've thrived together.”

Damian gave Carlin a pat on the chest. "You wouldn't be here if you weren't good enough to get drafted. No one in the top 24 has ever gone unpicked. And you ain't about to be the first."

Clifford listened carefully, drying the tears that had started to form only moments ago. He slowed down his ragged breathing, still absorbing every word that Damian spoke, not interrupting. Now the wolf was backing up the pep talk with facts. Facts that Clifford couldn't deny. The mutt sighed and nodded his head in response, before uttering, “You're right.”

Damian smiled and made Carlin look back at his heartfelt stare. "And call it confidence or ignorance, but I ain't goin' undrafted. And if 24 teams somehow pass on you, I'm not lettin' your family go down. I'm always here for you CC."

Clifford felt a weight tumbling off his shoulders, his eyes widening in surprise. Damian offered not only emotional...but financial support as well. Finally now, the mutt spoke.

"...Dude, really?" Clifford began, before shaking his head. "Wow, man...thanks dude. I can't tell you how much that means!" the mutt exclaimed, before chuckling and lowering his voice.

"Well...thanks dude, that promise means a lot to me and my family. Damn, I'm lucky to have a friend like you," the mutt murmured. "Uh, same goes for you...assuming I'm lucky enough to get to the pros with ya," Carlin chuckled.

Clifford took another deep breath, before nodding his head, his eyes dry and his mind focused. DW was right; the wolf wasn't going undrafted. And DW's promise had at least given him some real hope to cling onto, even if the worst case scenario occured and his name didn't get called on draft night. At least, he wouldn't have to watch his family suffer.

"Alright, dude," Cliff began, taking a deep breath. "There's still a whole half to play. Let's get out there and get a blue team victory," he said, the mutt's trademark quirky smile forming on his face.

Williams pulled the loveable mutt in for a hug and squeezed him tight. As the two embraced, Clifford forgot about the tears, forgot about his family's pain, and his head returned to the game. 

Damian knew what Cliff's family meant to him. He knew how much he loved his own family. The talk for Carlin had lit a fire in his own heart. Now he had to make it, not only for his family, but Clifford's. He couldn't fail. He kept the mutt wrapped up tight as he spoke softly.

"I don't have a lot of friends CC. And somewhere along the way I lost you as one."

He paused and collected his composure. "Because you turned out the be the brother I never thought I'd have." He slowly let go of the hug and stared the dog in the eye. Clifford stared back, an earnest look of surprise reflecting in his blue eyes. 

Damian cleared his throat and patted Carlin on the shoulder. 

"Anyway, enough with the mushy stuff. Your shot is off, but you can do more than shoot buddy. Move the ball, run the offense and get us in our sets. Coach said I'll get spot duty in the third and play most of the fourth. Penetrate to the basket and when they collapse, I'll be wide open around the arc. Pitch and catch all day, baby. And play defense. Don't let Roni go off. You gotta be in front of him and force him to take tough shots. If we stay connected and play good team defense, we'll get our chance. But we need you out there doing your thing, even if it's not droppin' threes."

Clifford listened again, taking in the advice. Once again, Damian was right; Clifford hadn't been focusing on team play, he'd only been taking sloppy shots and praying they'd fall. The mutt knew how to coordinate an offense; that's what he had to do in the second half until he found his shot again. 

"Alright, no more forced shots. I'll run the offense, lock Roni down, and we'll breeze through the rest of this game," Clifford stated, his confidence returning as that crippling fear finally began to subside.

Strange to think that the same person who had knocked him out of the FCAA tournament earlier this year was now the same guy who was single handedly working to save Clifford's draft stock in this game - not to mention the future of Clifford's family.

Clifford looked up at the taller canine with a wry grin. He'd never felt more connected with his old friend; but halftime was nearly over, and they'd have to return to the game. "I might have to start callin' you bro. Would that be awkward, bro?" the mutt asked with a wry grin, before slapping Damian on the shoulder and jogging back towards the court, not allowing the wolf a chance to respond.

DW could barely get out a breath of air before Carlin took off. He chuckled to himself as the rest of the team started to come out of the locker room as they ran up the ramp. Cassidy Whitelatch jogged up to Damian.

"Where were you and Cliff? Coach was asking if everything was alright. I just said you two were probably talkin'."

Williams nodded. "Just goin' over some game stuff. And you big man."

He pats Cassidy's chest. "Keep up to good work on Turner. JT ain't got nothin' on you." 

Whitelatch smiled and nodded in response as the two joged after Carlin with the rest of the team.

---

Swish.

The ball fell right through the net, and Clifford felt an elation in his heart. On two successive possessions, the mutt had forced fouls by driving the ball, found himself on the free throw line, and sunk all four shots. Blue was up by 5 with only five and a half seconds remaining, meaning victory was ensured. Despite his up and down game, Clifford found his rhythm in the second half and had lived up to his clutch reputation by effectively putting the game away in crunch time. 

After the two teams shook hands and returned to their sidelines, Clifford and Damian caught each other once again. 

“Game two, bro. Let's do it,” Clifford said with a goofy grin as he addressed his old friend who he just kept growing closer and closer with. 

Damian pushed Clifford's head playfully and headed back to the sidelines. "Don't make me beat you up like an older brother should."

The lupine smiled back knowing the team had Clifford back in the fold. Game one made them claw out of a hole and fight through overtime. Game 2 would have a focused Clifford Carlin and Damian knew he had his backcourt mate back.

Clifford was still concerned about his family; how could he not be? His father may never be able to work again, and was in serious pain. But now he had hope that there would be an end to that pain. Beyond that, Clifford had hope that he could be the one to end that pain. 

But first, The Underdog had another game to win.

END

Co-authored with DW

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