[Shooter is coaching the team at a critical moment after Coach Dale was ejected]

You think number four is gonna take their last shot, Dad?
Wilbur 'Shooter' Flatch: [Nervously] Yeah, probably... they been pickin' low all night. [Straightens up; he has the answer] Rade, let yourself get taken out! [Rade looks at Shooter, astonished.] Uh, Buddy, you drop down and take his place! [Buddy nods] Close that lane! [team breaks huddle]
[Buddy Walker steals the ball as he predicted] Wilbur 'Shooter' Flatch: Time! Time! [Brisk and confident] C'mon in, c'mon in. Alright, now listen to me. This is the last shot that we got! Alright? We're gonna run the picket fence at 'em! Merle, you're the swingman, Jimmy, you're solo right! Everett, Merle should be open swinging around the the end of that fence! Now, boys, don't get caught watchin' the paint dry!