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“Hey, Bud!” Bluestreak called out as he ran past the ref’s post. “Am I drooling right?”
Bud, along with Spike and Sari, sat a good distance above the makeshift basketball court that had been constructed in the Old Iacon courtyard. The trio had been explaining the human pastime to some of their friends, and discussion had led to curiosity, which now led to a hastily set up five-on-five match that was now ongoing. Silverbolt, Air Raid, Saber, Beachcomber, and Bluestreak vs Skydive, Fireflight, Leo, Bulkhead, and Moonracer in a close game.
Sunstreaker and Slingshot had been invited to raise it to a six-on-six, but they weren’t interested in participating.
For their safety, as well as the monitoring of the players, it had been decided the humans would act as referees positioned high enough to see but out of the potential trampling range.
“It’s called ‘dribbling!’” Bud called back. “And yeah, you got it, but watch out for Moonracer!”
“Huh?” Bluestreak only had a moment to respond, and was a moment too slow, as the biwheel ducked under his arm and snatched away the makeshift wire-and-rubber ball they’d made.
“Hey, don’t be so shocked if you get distracted,” she called back, hooking around and tossing the ball to Leo.
He caught it easily, ducking to one side to avoid Silverbolt before running over the hoop. Only Saber stood in his way, and while it was close, the leonoid succeeded in leaping past his twin to make the dunk. A cheer raised up from his team!
“Yeah!” Leo called out, fully getting in the moment. “On your face-plate!”
“Hey! No unsportsmanlike behavior!” Spike called out, though his tone suggested it was more of a joke than an actual chastisement. “Or unsportsbotlike, as it is.”
“Beside, you gotta do it right,” Sari added. “It’s ‘in you face!’ And you gotta get right up to him.”
“Alright, foul on the ref!” Spike crossed his arms, though he still smiled. “Encouraging unsportsmanlike behavior.”
“You can’t foul the other ref,” she returned.
“You can when she’s adding to the chaos.”
“Ooh, making a moment for Bulkhead!” Bud signal broke up the argument and turned all attention back to the game.
Sure enough, in the moment of distraction, Bulkhead had taken the opportunity to sneak around (or, as close to a sneak as was possible for him) and grab the ball before heading to the opposite net.
Unfortunately for him, his sheer size made it easy for Airraid to catch up in spite of the head start, so he tossed it to Fireflight. Or, he would have, had Silverbolt not intervened.
“Bluestreak, think quick!” Silverbolt called out, tossing before Leo and Moonracer could corner him.
“I got it!” Bluestreak reached out and succeeded in catching the ball. Not wanting to risk a repeat of before, he threw the ball as hard as he could towards the net.
He succeeded in getting it up…in fact, getting it up higher than the net, sailing over it, and nearly hitting Elena, Mat, and Sparkplug as they emerged from the Palace of the Primes. It was only Optimus, who’d been accompanying them, moving in to shield the blow with his arm, that kept them from being bowled over.
All parties froze upon realizing what happened, especially Bluestreak, who appeared utterly shocked at what he’d just done.
Optimus, for his part, seemed more surprised than anything else. “Well, I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting projectile battles today,” he commented, finding and picking up the ball. “Nonetheless with such lightweight projectiles.”
“Sorry about that, sir,” Saber called out. “We were just trying an earth-game Spike told us about, and we got a bit enthusiastic.”
“Well, no harm done.” Optimus studied the ball. “What is it?”
“It’s supposed to be a basketball,” Spike answered. “We had to improvise a bit, but it works just as well.”
“Should have guessed you’d have a part in this,” Sparkplug called up. He glanced over to Optimus. “Spike’s always had a love of the game. Even if,” he added, giving his son a look, “it gets him into trouble at times.”
“Hey, I helped Mrs. Tran fix her garden,” Spike called back, though his tone was mildly guilty.
“Don’t blame him; it was my fault,” Bluestreak added. “That was my shot.”
“You’ve got quite the arm, then,” Elena commented, as she peered off at how far away he was.
“Should try some trick shots,” Mat added with an nod.
“Ok.” Bluestreak thought for a moment. “What’s a trick shot?”
“It’s when you intentionally try to get the ball through the net in the trickiest way possible,” Sari explained, and her smile broadened out. “I spent just about all summer of seventh grade working to get an of the roof on a trampoline shot. The Foster Home den-mom just about had a conniption, but I got it!”
“Not bad,” Mat replied. “My proudest was a skateboard flipkick to dunk.”
“Did you make it?” Bud asked.
Mat nodded. “Broke both legs and sprained my wrist, but we got it on film.”
“Guess I’m not so bad now,” Spike called out.
“Maybe not,” Sparkplug replied with a smirk, “but I’m not the one who had to pay their med bills.”
“There’s no harm done now,” Optimus commented, “but I would appreciate if we had some caution on things in the future. I doubt Ratchet would agree with the impressiveness of such ‘trick-shots.’”
All bots fell silent, no doubt imagining the endless lecture that would be endured by anyone who made the mistake of getting injured in such a frivolous manner on the Chief Medic’s watch.
“We won’t,” Bulkhead assured after some time.
“Good to hear,” Optimus replied turning back on his path, into the city and away from the basketball court.
He’d only gone a few steps, along with the older humans, when he suddenly tossed the basketball over his shoulder without looking. It sailed over all heads, over the majority of the court, and straight into the net at the opposite side.
While he still didn’t turn back, Optimus couldn’t help but smile at the sound of wild cheering that followed the subtle swish.