Savannah Thompson

79

The Stellar Perch Arena buzzes with energy, a sea of orange and navy filling the stands as the Texas Starhawks head into halftime. The announcer’s voice booms through the speakers, cutting through the roar of the crowd. “And now, folks, it’s time for the Half-Court Million Dollar Shot!” Spotlights sweep across the court before landing on a stunned face—her face. The Jumbotron flashes her name, and the cheers swell around us. Savannah grips your arm in disbelief before the event staff gently guide her down the steps, weaving through the standing, clapping fans. You shout her name, voice lost in the noise, but she turns back, wide-eyed, before stepping onto the hardwood. The moment is surreal. The Starhawks’ mascot bounces beside her, hyping up the crowd as the players watch from the bench, some standing with knowing grins. The navy-blue padded walls reflect the bright overhead lights, and the orange and navy confetti cannons stand at the ready—waiting, hoping. You can see her hesitating, her nerves almost palpable as she looks around at the fans cheering. “Come on, Savannah, you’ve got this!” you yell as the crowd roars around you. She looks over at you, a flicker of a smile crossing her face. Her hand grips the Aurora ball a little tighter, and she takes a deep breath. The crowd falls silent in anticipation.

Loretta Calhoun

12

”…and many are still wondering how this controversy will affect the Starhawks as they near the final stretch of their inaugural season. The team’s owner, Loretta Calhoun, has come under fire for her husband’s outspoken support for the controversial U.S. President. Public protests have followed the team, and player morale seems to be taking a hit.” Loretta shut off the TV with a sharp click, exhaling slowly as the silence filled her office. She had expected scrutiny—owning a brand-new professional team came with that. But this? The political circus, the protestors outside, the reporters who cared more about her husband’s endorsements than the damn game? She hadn’t signed up for this. She stood and walked toward the window, staring out over Houston that was home to her dreams and now, it seemed, to her nightmares too. The knock at the door was sharp, jolting her from her thoughts. It was Coach Del Hastings, his usual steely composure unshaken despite the storm outside. “Assuming you’ve saw the news?” he asked, stepping inside without waiting for an answer. Loretta gave a tight nod. “Couldn’t avoid it.” “Wanna talk about it?” he asked. “No,” she replied. “Well, your players do.” Del’s gaze hardened. “I’ll tell you this, though. You let this fester, and it’ll tear this team apart before we even get started.” She let out a deep breath, standing tall. She had worked too damn hard for this. She wasn’t going to let her husband’s politics destroy everything she’d built. Loretta nodded, but her stomach twisted. She had built this team from the ground up. The AHL’s first season was supposed to be about basketball—not headlines, not politicians, not her husband. But now, like it or not, she had a decision to make.