Long Shot for Paul by Matt Christopher Page B

praised every member of the team for having done a good job.
    “Most of you were green this year,” he had said. “That’s why we ended next to the cellar. Next year you’ll do better. You’ll
     see. We’ll climb that ladder and maybe land on top of the heap. Just play hard, and do your best. That’s all I ask.”
    Glenn had been one of the green ones Mr. Munson had referred to. He was still a poor passer. He had a lot to learn about basketball
     himself. Probably it was crazy to think that he could teach Paul basketball well enough for Paul to get on the team. If Mr.
     Munson wanted kids on his team who played hard every minute, what chance would Paul have? Hardly any. Maybe he should give
     up the idea before it was too late — before Paul might get discouraged and really become unhappy.
    He mentioned this to Judy later in the evening. And right away he knew that he should not have. Her eyes flashed daggersand her lips pursed and he knew that he had just lit the fuse of a keg of dynamite.
    “Oh, no, you’re not going to give up now, Mr. Glenn Foster Marlette!” she exploded. “It was your idea, and it’s a good one,
     and you and I are going to stick it out if it takes till doomsday. You hear me? Till doomsday!”
    Glenn stepped back as if she might slug him. “Okay, okay,” he stammered. “I was just saying it, anyway.”
    Her eyes quit flashing. Her lips smoothed out and curved into a warm smile.
    “That’s better, Glenn,” she said sweetly. “Matter of fact, I knew you were just talking.”
    They had two weeks and three days to practice. The regular playing season began on Tuesday, November 30, according to the
     schedule Coach Munson had given the boys. The Sabers, as well as the other teams in the league, had already started practicingat the Recreation Hall. Games were to be played there and at the school gym.
    The first week drifted by, and still Glenn didn’t take Paul to the Recreation Hall to practice with the team. He wanted Paul
     to learn all he could about basketball at home. Even Dad worked out with them. He and Judy played against Paul and Glenn so
     that Paul would get the feel of competition. It wasn’t much, but Glenn could see that Paul was enjoying it more than just
     throwing the ball back and forth and shooting at the basket.
    With the opening game of the league exactly a week away, Glenn took Paul with him to the Recreation Hall. Paul took his sneakers,
     but Glenn was worried that Paul might not be given a uniform. The minute the coach heard that Paul had never played basketball
     before, he might tell Paul to gohome and not waste anybody’s time here. You just never knew what he might say.
    The team dressed in the locker room. Paul followed Glenn like a shadow, and the guys looked at Paul as if he were someone
     from another planet.
    They dressed in their gold, silver-trimmed uniforms, then went upstairs to the gym. Glenn’s number was 12.
    “Am I going to get a uniform, Glenn?” Paul asked anxiously.
    “Hang on awhile,” said Glenn. “I’m not sure yet. Maybe the coach doesn’t have an extra one.”
    Boy! What a time to think about that now!
    Coach Munson was already on the floor, throwing shots at the basket with Don Marshang and Andy Searles.
    “About time you guys got around,” he snapped as the rest of the team camerunning in from the basement doorway. He glanced at Paul, and frowned.
    “You,” he said, pointing a finger at him. “Come here a minute.”
    Paul, looking suddenly scared, started slowly toward him.
    “Hurry! Hurry!” The coach’s voice snapped like a whip.
    Paul broke into a run then and stopped in front of the coach. Glenn reached Paul’s side in time to hear the coach ask, “Aren’t
     you Glenn’s brother?”
    Paul nodded. “Yes. My name’s Paul.” His eyes rolled to Glenn, then back to the coach.
    “I’ve been teaching him basketball at home, Coach,” Glenn butted in. “He’s never played before.”
    Coach Munson’s hard eyes