Ladies' Night

© 2012 by Theo Tate. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 01/24/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4685-4280-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4685-4279-0 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012900727

Printed in the United States of America

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Contents

Introduction

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Introduction

In April 1994, I was a freshman student at Central Missouri State (now the University of Central Missouri) sitting in my dorm room alone at North Ellis Hall during Easter weekend. Most of the people—including my roommate—went home for the weekend. One Sunday, I had a date with the TV. I was watching the NCAA Women’s Basketball championship game between North Carolina and Louisiana Tech on CBS. It turned out to be a classic.

When North Carolina’s Charlotte Smith hit the game-winning 3-point shot at the buzzer, I said to myself that women’s basketball is now another one of my favorite sports. I had been a longtime fan of baseball, but it was about time that I had another favorite sport. Women’s basketball is so fundamentally sound and so simple. They don’t have any players showboating or trash-talking. They have players with class and they work hard. And they also stay in school. You don’t see any women’s college basketball player dropping out of college to join the WNBA or any professional leagues.

But you’ll see that a lot in the men’s game. Every year, I looked forward to watching the men’s NCAA tournament and I’ve been an avid watcher since 1989, when I saw Illinois—my favorite team—suffer a heartbreaking loss to Michigan in the semifinals. In 1990, I started collecting every tournament bracket I cut out in the newspaper.

I started doing that for the women’s game in 1994, the year the tournament was expanded to 64 teams. Back then, the tournament didn’t get a lot of exposure. You’ll see a handful of games—including the regional semifinals—on ESPN. Then, the Final Four is shown on CBS on Saturday and Sunday. The semifinals are played on Saturday and the championship game is played on Sunday.

I started liking girls basketball in my senior year at Belleville East High School, when I was a co-manager of the school’s girls basketball team. For years, I was a big boys basketball fan, but there was something about the girls’ game that really caught my eye.

The next year, I started writing for Central Missouri State’s campus newspaper, the Muleskinner. There, I covered the school’s women’s basketball team. My love of women’s basketball started to increase.

But then, there was Charlotte Smith’s 3-pointer in the championship game. She was the person that really helped me become a women’s college basketball fanatic. If you’re reading this, Charlotte, I want to thank you for everything.

Then in 1995, Connecticut started a winning dynasty by finishing with an undefeated season, including a win over Tennessee in the championship game at Minneapolis. It was the third year in a row the Women’s Final Four was sold out. I was so happy that Connecticut won its first national title. I even wrote a column on it in the Muleskinner.

My interest of women’s basketball continued. I went to four women’s basketball games at the Atlanta Olympics, including the gold-medal game, where the U.S. crushed Brazil 111-87. I also went to the fifth-place game between Cuba and Russia and a fight broke out in the closing seconds. A Cuba player hit a Russia girl down to the floor. After she hit her again, she got ejected. Too bad I didn’t get the fight on tape, but I remembered watching it.

While my interest of men’s basketball started to wane, I still fell in love with women’s basketball. I went to NCAA tournament games in Cincinnati, Seattle, Phoenix, Dallas and Chicago. I went to three Women’s Final Fours—two in St. Louis (2001 and 2009) and one in Tampa (2008).

I also had women’s basketball schedule posters on several teams and I got them signed. I have a whole bunch of them, from Illinois to Missouri to Georgia to Georgia State to Charlotte to Georgia Tech to George Washington to Stanford to Connecticut and on and on. I got that idea from the Tom Hanks movie, The Terminal, where Hanks tried to get signatures of every jazz musician.

I also went to Saint Louis University women’s basketball games. The Billikens used to play their home games at the West Pine Gym before moving to Chaifetz Arena several years ago. During halftime of their games at the West Pine Gym, there would be a bunch of AAU girls – I think they’re 11-12 year-old girls – playing basketball and having fun. The crowd cheers on them anytime someone scores a basket. I thought that was the neatest thing in the world. And that’s what inspired to write this story called Ladies Night.

It’s a fictional story about misadventures of a professional basketball league—for 12-year-old girls. They’ll see what it’s like to be a professional, from signing a big contract, talking to the media, traveling all around the country and playing in front of thousands of fans. They’ll get a chance to be in the big show in the American Little Ladies Basketball League, a league that is solely owned and operated by Scottie Rogers, a former NBA player.

It’s a story mixed with laughter and sadness. The story is all about dreams. A lot of preteen girls dream to become a college basketball player and play in the WNBA. They’re the biggest fans in the women’s college basketball games. You’ll see them get signatures from the players.

The league has 16 teams, so they’ll be a chapter about each team, plus a chapter on a very emotional awards banquet. The 16 teams are fighting for a trip to Knoxville, Tennessee to win the ALLBL championship, also known as the Ladies’ Cup, and get a chance to see legendary Tennessee women’s basketball coach Pat Summitt.

I want to thank St. Louis University and their women’s basketball program for helping me write this book. This book is another reason why I will continue to be a big women’s basketball fan forever. I want to dedicate this book to my aunt Barbara Tate, who passed away in January 2012. Two years ago, she inspired me to write a book. Well, here’s the book. Enjoy.

Chapter One

The Beginning

It was a cool August night in Pittsburgh. But it was pretty steamy in Tracie Morris’ house. The house has no air conditioner. Somehow Grandpa Morris (he doesn’t want to give out his first name) broke it while trying to fix it. He tried the best he could to fix everything after his daughter—and Tracie’s mother—was killed and his other granddaughter, Lauren, died of a heroin overdose. He couldn’t cook and he couldn’t clean house, but he still tried his best to raise poor Tracie, who is angrier than ever before. She doesn’t even smile anymore. Where did that nice smile go? Suddenly, it left out of Tracie’s face and it likely would never come back after what happened to her family. It probably would take days, months or even years to get that smile back. Even though the house has no air conditioner, Tracie was still sleeping. Even though she is sleeping, she’s still angry. She’s so angry that when you wake her up, she’ll start punching your lights out. She wishes that things would be better like they were when she was a baby. Life was good for Tracie Madison Morris when she was born in 1999.

Randy Morris was a white Pittsburgh TV news anchorman who had a great life—a good job with a black wife named Doreen, a daughter named Lauren and a newborn baby named Tracie. Suddenly, he snapped and he couldn’t handle the responsibility of raising a family. So after numerous fights with wife Doreen, Randy split after 12 years of marriage. The two eventually got divorced. Then, the Morris family suffered another setback when Lauren became a teenager. Depressed because her parents broke up, Lauren turned to drugs. Lauren was a girl with big ambitions. When she was 9 years old, she stood up in front of her fourth-grade class and told them that she’s was going to be the first female president of the United States. Once Lauren became a teenager, she became more rebellious, and her dreams of becoming President have gone down the drain.

Lauren Marie Morris found something that could go down through her nose. She started snorting cocaine after going to a friend’s party at age 13. Then, she started going into much harder stuff, like heroin and Quaaludes. Mother Doreen was concerned about Lauren’s behavior. Lauren would skip classes, snap at her mother and younger sister and throwing her life away at age 13. Doreen was doing the best she could to raise Lauren and Tracie, but with Lauren’s bad behavior, it was impossible. Lauren barely passed junior high and when she was in high school, she started hanging out with the bad crowd. Doreen tried to get Lauren to go see a therapist, but Lauren refused. Doreen, who worked as a teacher, was about to throw in the towel. She was about to give up helping her first born. But three years later, Doreen found out about Lauren’s behavior when she found some coke in her drawer. Lauren saw Doreen snooping into her drawer, snatched the packet of coke from her and ran away. Tracie, who was doing homework that day, was stunned and tears flowed down her pretty face. Doreen broke down in tears as well. At age 16, Lauren dropped out of school and moved out after having a big fight with her mother when she found out that her first born isn’t planning on going back to school.

Doreen and Lauren Morris would never see each other again after Lauren moved out. In 2008, Lauren died of a heroin overdose in a crack house at a Pittsburgh ghetto at age 17. Doreen found out about it on the TV news. After that, Doreen turned the TV off and headed to bed.

Tracie didn’t want to go to bed. She was furious at her mother for turning off the TV on the news about her older sister dying in a ghetto. Tracie always wondered what happened to Lauren in the final years. Tracie and Lauren were like best buddies for a long time, until Lauren decided to bully Tracie around and ignore her. Tracie had friends at school, but to her, Lauren was her best friend.

Then, in January 2011, Randy came home for a visit. This time, he was planning to kill his ex-wife. He thought Doreen was responsible for the death of Laurie. So one Saturday afternoon, with the front door unlocked, Randy walked in with a baseball bat, looking for his ex-wife. She was downstairs in the basement doing laundry. Randy walked down the stairs, walked toward the back of Doreen. Then, Doreen turned around and saw Randy. Randy hit Doreen repeatedly with a wooden baseball bat.

Tracie, who was then a fifth-grader, came home and was looking for her mother. A straight-A student, Tracie was at a classmate’s house making a Say No To Drugs project in school and she wanted to show it to her mother. Then, Tracie went to the basement and the first thing she saw was blood on the floor. The blood came from her mother. Tracie screamed and cried for hours.

At her mother’s funeral, Tracie couldn’t handle herself. She was going hysterical when the casket was closed. She lost two best friends in a span of three years. How could a sweet, long, curly-haired girl like Tracie go through something like this?

Before she died, Doreen installed several cameras around the house,