One year ago Mykal Riley sank a three that kept fans out of the path of a tornado. But Riley would never have been there if not for an intricate web of chance meetings, false starts and a terrible crime.
THE CLOCK STARTS WHEN THE SHOOTER CATCHES the ball, on the left wing, 24 feet from the basket. Two seconds left. He has run off a screen from the baseline, so his momentum carries him toward midcourt. He pushes hard off his right foot and pivots back to the left. One-point-four seconds. When he rises off the floor, the force of this hard cut is still carrying him left. One second. He believes Jesus will guide this shot.
The shooter flicks his right wrist at the peak of his jump, and if you photographed him now, you could put it in a textbook. Eight tenths of a second. The ball is still airborne when time expires and the horn sounds. The shot is almost perfect. But the shooter was drifting left, as you recall, and the ball lands just left of the target. It hits the back of the rim, the boxy part with the springs, and the springs rattle. The ball caroms from back rim to front, seeming to gain speed as it goes, and it suddenly leaps out of the cylinder.
The secret things belong unto the Lord our God. The shooter believes this because his King James Bible says so, and because of what he has seen, and soon he will believe it more deeply than ever. The ball sails toward the backboard, hits the center of the white square, and falls through the net.
This shot does nothing to change the game's outcome. And yet, for pure utility, it may be as great as any play in the history of sports. Eight minutes later, on the evening of March 14, 2008, during this Southeastern Conference tournament game between Alabama and Mississippi State, a tornado will roar through downtown Atlanta, and high winds will breach the Georgia Dome, and metal will strike the hardwood, and players will flee for cover, and it will seem to be snowing indoors. By morning Mykal Riley's three-pointer will be known as The Shot That Saved Lives.
Outside, the tornado passes just north of the Dome and screams through Centennial Olympic Park with winds of 120 mph. Glass rains down from hundreds of broken windows. Siding is ripped from the Dome's exterior. Potted plants go flying. Metal is driven into the side of a covered walkway. Cars flip over. Two 65-foot light towers topple in the park.
To the east, near a neighborhood called Cabbagetown, a homeless man is killed by a collapsing brick wall. But no serious injuries are reported downtown because the thunderstorm that came before the tornado has driven almost everyone off the streets, and 14,825 are safe inside the Dome, watching the overtime forced by Mykal Riley.
There is no way to prove that his shot saved lives. We can know only what did happen, and what didn't. Nevertheless, all the people interviewed for this story about their experience in the Dome that night believe that Mykal's shot prevented injuries and even deaths.
http://vault.sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/article/magazine/MAG1153064/index.htm
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