too?”
“Nope,” Tito answered. “He’s here to observe each of you. That way, we’ll know what you need to work on to become better players.” He motioned to Jody. “You’ll be skins, so you can choose first.”
“Mike Gruber,” Jody said without hesitation. Mike peeled off his shirt and planted himself next to Jody, a smug expression on his face.
Tito surveyed the remaining choices. His eyes stayed on Tim for a long moment, but he ended up choosing Donnie. He selected Tim in the next round, though, and Sam in the one after that. When all the players were on a team, positions were assigned, and the game began.
Tim played point guard opposite Mike. They found spots around the center circle, where Donnie and Bobby Last, another tall eighth grader, faced each other for the tip-off. Dick acted as ref and lofted the ball between them. Donnie leaped just a bit higher than Bobby and tapped the ball into Tim’s waiting hands.
Tim took off, dribbling toward the basket. Mike dogged him every step, clearly hoping Tim would make a mistake. But Tim kept his cool—and his dribble.
Not this summer, Gruber! he thought as he reached the top of the key. He turned to shield the ball while he looked for an open man. Merrick “Cue Ball” Jones, a lanky forward with a shaved head, cut to the hoop with his arm raised. Tim hit him with a pass. Cue Ball caught the ball, spun, and shot. Two points!
“Yow, that was so sweet, I’m getting a cavity!” Cue Ball crowed.
Tim and his teammates laughed as they raced to the opposite end of the court. Mike brought the ball down fast and drove in to the hoop. Donnie slid across the baseline to challenge him. When Mike jumped for a layup, Donnie jumped with him.
Whap! Donnie denied the basket with a powerful block. Mike reeled back dramatically and looked at Dick. But the block had been clean, so no foul was called.
Sam snared the ball on a bounce and found Tim waiting near the sideline. Tim dribbled quickly, but Mike caught up to him just as he crossed the center line. Tim drew up short and bounced a pass to Tito. Tito sent it to Cue Ball, who immediately relayed it to Donnie at the low post. Donnie jumped high and fingerrolled the ball into the hoop.
“Moses, smell those roses!” Cue Ball bellowed.
The comment was pure nonsense but uttered with such glee that Tim and his teammates cracked up. They stopped laughing when the “skins” sent a long bomb to Jody, who was waiting under the hoop. Jody was well over six-and-a-half-feet tall. He slammed the ball two-handed through the basket, drawing cheers and whistles from both shirts and skins.
Tim inbounded the ball to Sam, and the action moved back to the other end. Elijah, another newcomer, sprang forward to challenge Sam at the corner of the key. Sam panicked and stopped his dribble, a classic mistake since now he was forced to pass or shoot.
Tim darted forward to help out. Sam dished the ball to him. Tim took two dribbles and then set himself up for a jump shot.
It wasn’t a shot he’d have attempted the year before, because more often than not, it would have ended as an air ball. But he’d been working hard to improve his shooting since the past summer and had gained confidence in his ability.
That confidence didn’t help him now. As he went up, Mike sailed across the paint and practically stuffed the ball down his throat!
3
T hud! Tim went down so hard his teeth rattled. Sam helped him to his feet and asked him if he was okay. Tim waved the question away. His tailbone felt bruised, but he was more embarrassed than hurt.
“Daniels, take a seat!” Tito called. “It’s time for subs anyway.”
Tim left the court but noticed that Jody didn’t replace any of his players. He filled a cup with water from a big jug and sat down gingerly. The bench was empty except for a new member of the Eagles Nest cabin. Tim felt the boy’s eyes on him. He drank half his water and poured the rest over his head to cool off before
“Nope,” Tito answered. “He’s here to observe each of you. That way, we’ll know what you need to work on to become better players.” He motioned to Jody. “You’ll be skins, so you can choose first.”
“Mike Gruber,” Jody said without hesitation. Mike peeled off his shirt and planted himself next to Jody, a smug expression on his face.
Tito surveyed the remaining choices. His eyes stayed on Tim for a long moment, but he ended up choosing Donnie. He selected Tim in the next round, though, and Sam in the one after that. When all the players were on a team, positions were assigned, and the game began.
Tim played point guard opposite Mike. They found spots around the center circle, where Donnie and Bobby Last, another tall eighth grader, faced each other for the tip-off. Dick acted as ref and lofted the ball between them. Donnie leaped just a bit higher than Bobby and tapped the ball into Tim’s waiting hands.
Tim took off, dribbling toward the basket. Mike dogged him every step, clearly hoping Tim would make a mistake. But Tim kept his cool—and his dribble.
Not this summer, Gruber! he thought as he reached the top of the key. He turned to shield the ball while he looked for an open man. Merrick “Cue Ball” Jones, a lanky forward with a shaved head, cut to the hoop with his arm raised. Tim hit him with a pass. Cue Ball caught the ball, spun, and shot. Two points!
“Yow, that was so sweet, I’m getting a cavity!” Cue Ball crowed.
Tim and his teammates laughed as they raced to the opposite end of the court. Mike brought the ball down fast and drove in to the hoop. Donnie slid across the baseline to challenge him. When Mike jumped for a layup, Donnie jumped with him.
Whap! Donnie denied the basket with a powerful block. Mike reeled back dramatically and looked at Dick. But the block had been clean, so no foul was called.
Sam snared the ball on a bounce and found Tim waiting near the sideline. Tim dribbled quickly, but Mike caught up to him just as he crossed the center line. Tim drew up short and bounced a pass to Tito. Tito sent it to Cue Ball, who immediately relayed it to Donnie at the low post. Donnie jumped high and fingerrolled the ball into the hoop.
“Moses, smell those roses!” Cue Ball bellowed.
The comment was pure nonsense but uttered with such glee that Tim and his teammates cracked up. They stopped laughing when the “skins” sent a long bomb to Jody, who was waiting under the hoop. Jody was well over six-and-a-half-feet tall. He slammed the ball two-handed through the basket, drawing cheers and whistles from both shirts and skins.
Tim inbounded the ball to Sam, and the action moved back to the other end. Elijah, another newcomer, sprang forward to challenge Sam at the corner of the key. Sam panicked and stopped his dribble, a classic mistake since now he was forced to pass or shoot.
Tim darted forward to help out. Sam dished the ball to him. Tim took two dribbles and then set himself up for a jump shot.
It wasn’t a shot he’d have attempted the year before, because more often than not, it would have ended as an air ball. But he’d been working hard to improve his shooting since the past summer and had gained confidence in his ability.
That confidence didn’t help him now. As he went up, Mike sailed across the paint and practically stuffed the ball down his throat!
3
T hud! Tim went down so hard his teeth rattled. Sam helped him to his feet and asked him if he was okay. Tim waved the question away. His tailbone felt bruised, but he was more embarrassed than hurt.
“Daniels, take a seat!” Tito called. “It’s time for subs anyway.”
Tim left the court but noticed that Jody didn’t replace any of his players. He filled a cup with water from a big jug and sat down gingerly. The bench was empty except for a new member of the Eagles Nest cabin. Tim felt the boy’s eyes on him. He drank half his water and poured the rest over his head to cool off before
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