failed.”
He laid a hand on Steve’s leg. “I don’t want you to feel that way when you’re my age — wondering what might have been, ’if
only.’ What worries me about you, Champ, is that you’ll blow your opportunityand then wake up when it’s too late and start kicking yourself.”
“I know, Dad,” Steve replied. He couldn’t look his father in the eye. His unspoken thought was, It won’t happen to me, because
making it as a pro doesn’t matter to me the way it did to you, or the way it does to Ginny. But I can’t tell you that. I wish
I could, but I just can’t.
“How about giving me a hint about your big surprise?” he asked his father. “Is it something that plays CDs?”
Mr. Greeley smiled and shook his head. “It’s better that I don’t say anything yet. All I can tell you is, you want to look
good out there today.”
“Hey, Steve, how’re you doing?” Charlie Silver, with a smile on his face, walked down to where the Greeleys sat. “Sure is
hot out there. Hi, Mr. Greeley.”
Mr. Greeley nodded but didn’t smile back. Steve saw that his father had his “game face” on, as if
he
were the one who was going out to face Charlie in a little while.
Steve managed to keep a straight face at the sight of Charlie’s ugly shirt with big diamond-shapedpatches of purple and green. No one who dressed like that could ever be a champion, he decided. Who picks those shirts? Maybe
he’s color-blind.
“I’m doing great,” Steve said, standing up. “Tell you what, I’ll make sure we’re not out in the hot sun too long, all right?”
Charlie laughed. “You mean you’ll let me whip you real fast today? Is that what he means, Mr. Greeley?”
Steve’s father scowled. He didn’t like to joke about tennis matches.
But Steve grinned. “That wasn’t what I had in mind.”
A minute later, a man stuck his head into the locker room. “Steve Greeley, Charlie Silver? You guys ready?”
“Right here,” said Steve.
“All set,” Charlie called out.
“Good, we’ll be ready for you in five minutes,” the man replied. “I’ll come and get you. Stay in here and keep cool as long
as you can. It’s brutal out there.”
Steve snorted. “Tell us something we don’t know.”
Nobody said anything for the next few minutes. For all that he’d been joking around, Steve thoughtCharlie looked nervous. He himself was mostly thinking about how hot and uncomfortable he’d been just sitting and watching
his sister. Now he’d have to hustle … well, a little, anyway.
The tournament official returned to the locker room. “Okay, guys, let’s go. Your turn in the steam room.”
3
T he stands were more than half full when the two players came out on the court, and there was some cheerful applause. Steve
blinked in the bright sunshine and looked around. His father yelled something about hanging tough and headed for a seat. Steve
heard a few voices call out his name as he put down his spare rackets, a windbreaker (totally unnecessary), and several towels
(very necessary). He did a few stretches to limber up.
As hot as it had been in the stands, it was even hotter on the court, he decided. Either the temperature had gone up or the
all-weather surface of the court was acting as a giant sun reflector. Whatever the reason, he would have to make sure he drank
plenty of liquids today, to make up for all the sweating he’d be doing.
The umpire spun a racket and Steve called, “Up.” The racket came down with the logo on the end of it facing up, which meant
that Steve would serve first.
He and Charlie began warming up, hitting balls back and forth, using both forehand and backhand, not working too hard at it.
Steve felt loose and ready to go in a couple of minutes. He called to Charlie, “You ready?”
Charlie nodded. Both boys turned and signaled the umpire, who was now sitting in his chair at one side of the net, that they
were all set to go.
The umpire turned on
He laid a hand on Steve’s leg. “I don’t want you to feel that way when you’re my age — wondering what might have been, ’if
only.’ What worries me about you, Champ, is that you’ll blow your opportunityand then wake up when it’s too late and start kicking yourself.”
“I know, Dad,” Steve replied. He couldn’t look his father in the eye. His unspoken thought was, It won’t happen to me, because
making it as a pro doesn’t matter to me the way it did to you, or the way it does to Ginny. But I can’t tell you that. I wish
I could, but I just can’t.
“How about giving me a hint about your big surprise?” he asked his father. “Is it something that plays CDs?”
Mr. Greeley smiled and shook his head. “It’s better that I don’t say anything yet. All I can tell you is, you want to look
good out there today.”
“Hey, Steve, how’re you doing?” Charlie Silver, with a smile on his face, walked down to where the Greeleys sat. “Sure is
hot out there. Hi, Mr. Greeley.”
Mr. Greeley nodded but didn’t smile back. Steve saw that his father had his “game face” on, as if
he
were the one who was going out to face Charlie in a little while.
Steve managed to keep a straight face at the sight of Charlie’s ugly shirt with big diamond-shapedpatches of purple and green. No one who dressed like that could ever be a champion, he decided. Who picks those shirts? Maybe
he’s color-blind.
“I’m doing great,” Steve said, standing up. “Tell you what, I’ll make sure we’re not out in the hot sun too long, all right?”
Charlie laughed. “You mean you’ll let me whip you real fast today? Is that what he means, Mr. Greeley?”
Steve’s father scowled. He didn’t like to joke about tennis matches.
But Steve grinned. “That wasn’t what I had in mind.”
A minute later, a man stuck his head into the locker room. “Steve Greeley, Charlie Silver? You guys ready?”
“Right here,” said Steve.
“All set,” Charlie called out.
“Good, we’ll be ready for you in five minutes,” the man replied. “I’ll come and get you. Stay in here and keep cool as long
as you can. It’s brutal out there.”
Steve snorted. “Tell us something we don’t know.”
Nobody said anything for the next few minutes. For all that he’d been joking around, Steve thoughtCharlie looked nervous. He himself was mostly thinking about how hot and uncomfortable he’d been just sitting and watching
his sister. Now he’d have to hustle … well, a little, anyway.
The tournament official returned to the locker room. “Okay, guys, let’s go. Your turn in the steam room.”
3
T he stands were more than half full when the two players came out on the court, and there was some cheerful applause. Steve
blinked in the bright sunshine and looked around. His father yelled something about hanging tough and headed for a seat. Steve
heard a few voices call out his name as he put down his spare rackets, a windbreaker (totally unnecessary), and several towels
(very necessary). He did a few stretches to limber up.
As hot as it had been in the stands, it was even hotter on the court, he decided. Either the temperature had gone up or the
all-weather surface of the court was acting as a giant sun reflector. Whatever the reason, he would have to make sure he drank
plenty of liquids today, to make up for all the sweating he’d be doing.
The umpire spun a racket and Steve called, “Up.” The racket came down with the logo on the end of it facing up, which meant
that Steve would serve first.
He and Charlie began warming up, hitting balls back and forth, using both forehand and backhand, not working too hard at it.
Steve felt loose and ready to go in a couple of minutes. He called to Charlie, “You ready?”
Charlie nodded. Both boys turned and signaled the umpire, who was now sitting in his chair at one side of the net, that they
were all set to go.
The umpire turned on
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