Each of the six men glanced at the little statue on their coach's desk. It was a silly toy, a bubble-headed child's trinket from a country they didn't know and in a language they didn't speak. But from the first time Leftwich had touched it, they'd been unstoppable. The opposing teams had all been crushed, emotionally and physically, by this group's surprise force. The men were all in their 20s and 30s, and they did not want to believe in luck, superstition, juju. But could they deny the fact that they had been losers -- literally, they had never won a single game -- until Leftwich rubbed the toy's bulbous head in desperation?
They could not.
On their way to the court they all walked past the statue and gently passed a finger or two across the plastic surface.
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