Center Court Sting by Matt Christopher

1
    D aren McCall was
hot
.
    It wasn’t the noise of the screaming fans in the echoing gym or the glaring lights. It wasn’t that the basketball game was
     close or that he’d been racing up and down the polished hardwood floor for what seemed like hours.
    What Daren really was, was
steamed
. He’d expected the game to be a romp. His team, the Rangers, was one of the best in the league, way better than the pathetic
     Demons, the bunch they were playing.Daren had hoped to score a lot of points, maybe even a personal high.
    But the Demons had hung in all the way. Now, with four minutes left, the Rangers led by just five points, and the game was
     still up for grabs.
    Lou Bettman, the six-foot one-inch Ranger center, was having a terrible game — again. He seemed to be sleepwalking, unable
     to score or rebound. Daren couldn’t understand what had happened to Lou. He was the star of last year’s Rangers and had looked
     even better as this year’s season began. Then, suddenly, he’d fallen apart.
    But the person who was irritating Daren the most was a guy named Carl Mantell. Carl was guarding Daren. A mediocre player
     according to his stats, Carl was giving Daren more trouble than Daren had thought he would. No matter what Daren did, Carl
     stayed in his face, cutting off the lane whenhe tried to drive or giving him little shoves to keep him off balance. What was worse, the ref, a skinny dude with hair in
     his eyes, hadn’t called these obvious fouls. With a decent ref, Daren felt, Mantell would have fouled out by now.
    After Lou blew another layup, the Demons raced up-court. Carl got the ball in the corner and threw a bad shot, way out of
     his range. The ball bounced hard off the front rim and into the hands of Ranger guard Lynn Mayes, Daren’s best friend on the
     team. Daren, seeing a possible fast break, spun and raced toward the Ranger basket. Lynn’s pass was short, making Daren slow
     down to catch it. As he spun to shoot the hoop, Carl darted in to block him. As Daren threw up an off-balance shot, they collided,
     and Carl staggered back, arms wheeling. Daren knew he hadn’t hit the guy hard and that Carl was acting. Sure enough, the refblew his whistle. Daren snagged the ball, sure he would be taking a trip to the foul line for two free throws.
    A blocking foul on Carl, at last, he thought with satisfaction. But that feeling changed abruptly when he saw the ref pointing
     at
him
.
    “Charging, number four,” he said as Daren stared in disbelief. “Green ball.”
    “What!”
Daren yelped.
    He saw Lynn signal him to cool it, but he was too angry to care. This ref was unreal!
    The ref held out his hands. “C’mon, let’s have the ball.
Now
.”
    Daren slammed the ball to the floor as hard as he could and stomped away. Behind him, he heard another shrill whistle.
    “Technical foul, number four!”
    Daren’s face burned as the crowd booed and jeered. He didn’t know if they werebooing the ref or him, but he wanted to kick himself for giving the Demons the chance to cut into the Ranger lead. Maybe
     he could make it up in the last few minutes, if—
    “Time out!”
shouted Coach Michaels, drilling Daren with an icy glare. As the team went to the sideline, he pointed at Daren.
    “Sit,” he snapped. “Shawn, go in for Daren. Listen up, everyone.” Daren started to protest, but a look at the coach’s face
     made him shut up. The coach began talking to the team as Daren slumped in his seat. He knew that Coach Michaels was mad and
     that there was no way he’d get back in this game, not even if six Rangers broke their legs.
    It wasn’t fair. Carl Mantell was playing dirty, the ref was blind, and now the coach was making him look bad by benching him.
    When the game resumed, he stared at the floor. He could tell from the crowd’s groanthat Carl had made the technical. Now the Ranger lead had been cut to four, and the Demons had the ball.
    Could the Demons pull this game out? And if they did, would