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ESTERO, Fla. -- Trae Bell-Haynes floater from the left side of the lane with 3.5 seconds remaining lifted Vermont to a 60-59 victory over Wofford on Monday in the opening game of the Gulf Coast Showcase.Cameron Jacksons basket with 1:42 left gave Wofford a 59-58 lead but teammate Derrick Brooks missed a pair of free throws with 52 seconds left. The Catamounts Payton Henson had his shot underneath blocked by Jackson before the Terriers Fletcher Magee missed a 3-point attempt with 13 seconds left. Bell-Haynes then made his winning shot on the other end. A half-court shot by Wofford at the buzzer was short.Henson finished with 14 points and eight rebounds for Vermont (4-1), which survived a 38 percent shooting performance, in part by making 18 of 22 free throws. Bell-Haynes had six assists.Jackson scored 20 points and Magee 12 for Wofford (1-2). Custom Thunder Jersey China .Y. -- Sabres forward Drew Stafford has witnessed plenty of turmoil during his eight seasons in Buffalo. Custom Ray Allen Jersey . Vettel, who has already clinched his fourth straight F1 title, enters the finale with a chance to equal Michael Schumachers 13 victories in a year and match the record of nine consecutive wins by Alberto Ascari in the 1952 and 1953 seasons. http://www.customthunderjersey.com/ . After the whistle, Thornton skated the length of the ice, pulled Orpik to the ice from behind and punched him in the face several times. Custom Thunder Jerseys . Any real chance at payback wont come until the playoff. Still, Pittsburgh knows its taut 3-2 win over the Bruins on Wednesday night is a pretty good place to start laying the groundwork. "They are a very good defensive team," Penguins forward Brandon Sutter said. Custom Thunder T-shirts . After Martin Skrtel put the Reds in front from close range at Stamford Bridge after only four minutes, Hazard hit back in the 17th with a superb strike. Etoo gave Jose Mourinhos team a decisive lead from Oscars back pass in the 34th. In my final year at school I was chosen to open the batting for the Transvaal Under-19 side with a big-hearted kid called Craig Norris from a neighbouring school. We had one mid-week warm-up game against a Transvaal Invitation XI at Morningside before flying down to Stellenbosch for the 1982 Nuffield Week, a tournament for South African high schools.I cant remember exactly what we thought but Im sure we assumed that the Invitation XI would be made up of ringers and sundry club unemployables of good standard. Wed negotiate past the fixture with the minimum of fuss and be on that plane down to the Cape in a jiffy.In those days, club cricket in Johannesburg was properly competitive. Several Premier League clubs employed English professionals like Richard Lumb or Ashley Harvey-Walker, sometimes called Ashley Harvey-Wallbanger by the wits of the local scene. Every so often you would encounter a Transvaal player on a soft club weekend, or a Transvaal B player trying to play their way back into form or fitness.Schoolboy cricket was hard-fought but genteel. You played on good wickets in front of gently appreciative fathers and mothers sitting in deck chairs; you wore your blazer to tea, didnt argue with the umpire, and didnt appeal unless you had a good chance of getting it right. Mostly they were heavenly days.As a younger boy, clutching my precious 12th-birthday bat and standing timidly knock-kneed in my recently scrubbed takkies, I remember listening to Lumb and Harvey-Walker in a daze of wonder. If you were lucky enough, your headmaster might select you to attend one of their precious net sessions on Friday afternoons at Balfour Park. I didnt learn many cricket lessons at these sessions, spending the afternoons in a funk of thwarted desire. Lumb, I noticed, was kitted out with St Peter equipment, down to batting mitts that shaped over his hands like boxing gloves. Only boys with rich parents could afford St Peter gear. The rest of us had to be content with sanding the edges out of our Gray-Nicolls bat (sand with the grain, urged my dad), lovingly applying linseed oil in the long months before summer with a lappie (rag) from the kitchen.Sometimes Lumb spoke about Geoff Boycott - or Geoffrey - his Yorkshire opening partner. It was usually in tones of mild derision, but he always managed to find space in his tales for a sort of reluctant admiration. Then he laughed and shook his big head of hair and went back to the far less perplexing business of leading the fielding drills.Harvey-Walker was a different proposition. He was clipped, speaking in a language I identified as English but only partially understood. We must have seemed retarded because we never quite understood what he was saying but didnt have the courage to ask him to repeat himself.dddddddddddd. Sessions were conducted in a busy miasma of mutual incomprehension as he clucked at us in his Derbyshire accent, and we did the best we could to act on what we thought hed said. Net sessions didnt run particularly smoothly.It was only when Hugh Page came into the schoolboys dressing room as Craig and I were padding up after we lost the toss against the Invitation XI that we began to realise what we were in for. You might want to wear this, Page said to me kindly as he passed me his helmet, an outsized maroon number with a protruding visor that stretched all the way to the Zimbabwe border. I had never worn a helmet before. Mostly we just wore our caps. If you came upon anyone really quick in schoolboy cricket, you reeled in your shot-making and waited for him to blow himself out. This helmet was large and ungainly, with fiddly straps. It was like batting inside a hollowed-out watermelon. Craig, who was better than me and had played more regularly at a higher level - he was playing in the Transvaal Mean Machine side a year or two later - probably took first ball, but before long I was facing Graham Dilley, then opening the bowling for England.Dilley hammered his front foot down like some storybook Gulliver but also had a back-foot drag, so the two sounds arrived fractionally before his deliveries cannoned into the splice of my much-used old County bat. I hopped about the crease like a scalded rabbit, and didnt score anything in front of square for the first hour as I flicked and glided and nudged.Neal Radford opened the bowling with Dilley, and when he realised he couldnt get me to nick off, proceeded to cheerfully bounce me. The forward short leg probably got in on the action but I was too busy trying to survive to listen very carefully. When Dilley and Radford came off, Page replaced them. He was slippery, darting it off the seam, thudding a couple into Craigs midriff and hurting him on the juicy inner part of the thigh. Alvin Kallicharran watched it good-naturedly from the slips. The wickets would come, his indulgent smile seemed to be saying, it was just a matter of time.After a while their pity hardened. Radford bounced us some more. A Warwickshire professional whose name Ive forgotten started to get lippy. We couldnt have been far from a hundred partnership - Alfred 40-odd - when I spooned an inelegant mistimed drive to mid-off. The Warwickshire pro went off, swearing like a sewer.As I walked back to the pavilion, struggling with my helmet, our coach caught my eye. That wasnt so bad, he said breezily, and I could see the relief in his eyes. ' ' '