Read Bad-Luck Basketball Online

Authors: Thomas Kingsley Troupe

Tags: #9781434291591, #9781434291608, #fiction, #Stone Arch Books, #Jake Maddox JV, #sports & recreation/basketball, #social issues/emotions & feelings, #social issues/general, #self-confidence, #teamwork (sports)

Bad-Luck Basketball

BOOK: Bad-Luck Basketball
5.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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CHAPTER 1

NOT A CHANCE

Brandon Whitler and the rest of the Chesterfield Clovers basketball team had less than fifteen minutes before their second-to-last game started. No one on the team was expecting to win. After all, their record wasn't very impressive.

Even so, Coach Hanson insisted they warm up and treat it like they were championship-bound. They practiced free throws and passing drills to loosen up. At one point, Brandon went for a lay-up and wedged the basketball between the hoop and the backboard. It stuck there, nice and tight.

“Nice work, Whitler!” hollered Jeff Stuckey, Brandon's best friend.

“Yeah, yeah,” Brandon muttered. He felt like an idiot as Coach Hanson pointed out to a maintenance guy what had happened. The game couldn't start with the ball stuck up there.

The rest of the Clovers watched as the maintenance man set up a ladder, climbed up, and poked the ball loose with a broom handle. The ball bounced and rolled under the ladder. Brandon quickly ran forward, ducked under the ladder, and scooped up the ball.

“Dude!” cried Kevin Yang, one of Brandon's teammates. “You just went under a ladder! That's bad luck!”

“Come on,” Brandon said. He bounced the ball easily back and forth between his hands and shook his head. “Who believes in that stuff? It's totally made up.”

“I don't know,” Kevin said. “Me?”

“You still believe in the Tooth Fairy, too?” Brandon asked with a smirk.

Kevin shook his head. “Whatever, man. Just don't blame me when you're stuck with bad luck.”

At the other end of the gym, the Arrow Lake Archers finished their warm up. The Clovers stood around and watched as the maintenance guy climbed off the ladder, folded it up, and hauled it off the court. Suddenly the referee blew his whistle to signal the start of the game. The Clovers had lost any extra warm-up time. But as it turned out, it didn't matter.

* * *

The entire game went terribly. Brandon knew it and so did the rest of the team. Everything that could possibly go wrong did. It was like the Clovers were cursed.

It started when Jeff, their star center, went to center court to take the tip-off. But instead of knocking the ball into Clover territory, he fell hard on his rear end. Jeff stood up, looking confused. He didn't seem to understand how he'd ended up on the ground. It wasn't like the Archers' center had shoved him. He just sort of . . . fell.

As if that weren't bad enough, Tony Gustard, another one of the Clovers' best players, sprained his ankle in the third quarter. One second he was driving the ball toward the Archers' territory and the next his ankle rolled sideways, and he cried out in pain.

Brandon's luck wasn't much better. As one of the team's forwards, he should have been taking shots and making baskets. But every shot he took was either a complete air ball or toilet-bowled around the rim, only to drop into a defending player's hands.

By the end of the game, the Clovers were worn out, beat up, and felt as defeated as they had the rest of their season. And the score showed that. They'd lost to the Archers 44-79.

After slapping hands with the Archers players to congratulate them on their good game, the team headed to the locker room.

“Quick talk before you hit the showers, guys,” Coach Hanson said as he followed them in.

Brandon wasn't sure if it was the constant losing seasons the Clovers had endured over the past few years or their most recent defeat, but the coach looked exhausted. It was never easy for small schools to compete against some of the bigger ones, but the Clovers were struggling more than usual.

Once everyone had taken a seat on the locker room bench, Coach Hanson took off his baseball cap and ran his hands through his hair. “I'm really not sure what to say about that game, guys,” he said. “What happened out there? It's like we're having the worst kind of luck all of a sudden.”

At mention of the word “luck” Brandon felt his ears get hot. Across the locker room, Kevin stared at him, shaking his head. As if that weren't enough, he pointed at Brandon.

Seriously?
Brandon thought.
Again with the whole ladder thing?

At least Kevin hadn't told the coach about his bad-luck theory. But that didn't stay true for long.

“Maybe it was because Brandon walked under that ladder before the game,” Kevin said.

Thanks for nothing, Kevin
, Brandon thought. “That's ridiculous,” he said. “No one believes all that stuff, do they?”

Coach Hanson shook his head. “Of course not, guys. But I'm still struggling with this loss. It's like you guys don't want to make it to the play-offs.”

“Well, it's not like we really have a chance after the way we played out there tonight,” Tony muttered.

“That's not entirely true,” Coach said. “If we manage to win next week's game, the final seat in the play-offs is ours. It's that simple. But based on how we played tonight, we're going to need lots of practice if we're going to make it.”

The entire Clover team murmured in excitement. It seemed impossible that they'd ever see the play-offs, especially since they'd had a lousy season. But they had to try.

As everyone got ready to hit the showers, Kevin walked over to Brandon and folded his arms across his chest.

“Your bad luck better wear off before then, Brandon,” Kevin whispered. “We can't lose our chance at the play-offs because of you.”

Fantastic
, Brandon thought.
If we lose, Kevin will tell everyone it's my fault.

CHAPTER 2

DUMB LUCK

On the bus ride back to Chesterfield Junior High, Brandon sat in the seat behind Jeff. Even though the Clovers had gotten their butts kicked by Arrow Lake, most of the team seemed to be in a good mood. The thought of having a shot at the play-offs seemed to cheer everyone up. The only person not smiling was Brandon.

“C'mon, man,” Jeff said, noticing Brandon's sullen expression. “Don't let that bad luck stuff get to you.”

“I didn't at first,” Brandon said. “But the more I think about it, the more I wonder if I did bring bad luck to the team.”

“That's garbage,” Jeff said with a shrug. “Did you forget we're the Clovers? That's good luck. It cancels the ladder thing out.”

“Four-leaf clovers are good luck. Our logo only has three leaves,” Brandon pointed out.

“Ah, who cares?” Jeff replied with a shrug. He nodded toward Kevin. “I wouldn't worry too much about what Kevin thinks. You know how superstitious he is. He wears the same stinky socks for every game. Hasn't washed them yet.”

Brandon laughed. “Those things reek. I just hope he isn't right. I'd hate to be the reason we don't make the play-offs, you know?”

Jeff shook his head. “Tonight wasn't bad luck, Brandon,” he said. “It was bad basketball. The team had an off night. Kevin just needed someone to blame.”

Brandon tried to smile, but couldn't. The Clovers weren't the best team, but they'd never played that poorly before. Ever.

Why is walking under ladders supposed to be bad luck anyway?
Brandon wondered. He shook the thought away. He wouldn't buy into the dumb idea that he was the reason everyone had played so badly.

It wasn't bad luck
, Brandon told himself.
It was just a bad game.

* * *

The next day at school, Tony came up to Brandon at his locker. “Hey, man,” Tony said. “I thought I should warn you . . . Kevin is telling everyone about the ladder thing.”

“Are you serious?” Brandon said. He opened his locker, pulled out his books, and slammed the door. “Where is he?”

Tony pointed down the hall to where a crowd of people had gathered near the bathrooms. Brandon knew he only had a few minutes before the bell rang, so he had to be quick.

“Uh-oh,” Kevin whispered loudly as he saw Brandon approaching. “Here comes bad-luck Brandon now!”

Normally Brandon got along with Kevin just fine, but things were getting out of hand.

“Real cool, Kevin,” Brandon said, shaking his head. He saw a few of the people in the crowd laughing and smirking.

“Sorry, Brandon,” Kevin said with a goofy grin. “I'm just telling the truth. Everyone wondered how we lost the game by so many points.”

“So you're blaming me for the loss?” Brandon said. “You missed practically every pass that came your way. That wasn't much help.”

“Yeah, but I'm not the one who walked under the ladder,” Kevin said. “You are.”

Brandon shook his head. He knew Kevin was superstitious, but this was nuts.

“Maybe your socks didn't stink enough for us to win,” Brandon said. He knew it wasn't the nicest thing to say, but he didn't care. He wasn't about to take all the blame for last night's loss.

“We were doing fine this season until you pulled that dumb stunt,” Kevin told him. “My good-luck socks had nothing to do with it.”

“Doing fine?” Brandon repeated. “We lose two out of every three games!”

But no one seemed to care that he was right. Kevin shrugged and walked away. The crowd dispersed along with him. Apparently everyone was all too happy to blame Brandon.

Just then, the warning bell rang signaling that class was about to start.
Great
, Brandon thought as he turned and took off down the hall.
First I get bad-mouthed, and now I'm going to be late too.

As he approached the classroom door, the vice principal's voice suddenly boomed down the hallway after him.

“Young man!” Mr. Brent called. “I'm going to need you to come back here!”

“You have to be kidding me,” Brandon said. He was less than three feet from his classroom door. But as everyone knew, Mr. Brent was a stickler for safety and hated running in the halls.

Brandon turned and smiled. “Sorry, Mr. Brent,” he called. “I was running late.”

“The late part isn't my problem,” Mr. Brent replied. “But I could see you were running. Now
that
I have a problem with.”

Brandon knew he wasn't going to get off that easy. He turned and walked slowly back down the hall to where the vice principal stood waiting.

“That, sir, is more like it,” Mr. Brent said. “Now, let's see you walk to class properly.”

Brandon nodded. “Okay,” he said. “But now I'm definitely going to be late.”

Mr. Brent nodded. As he did, the bell rang, making Brandon officially tardy for biology class.

Brandon turned and walked to his classroom at a regular pace. He glanced over his shoulder at the halfway point to see if Mr. Brent was still watching. He was.

As he entered the classroom, his biology teacher raised her eyebrows at his tardiness and jotted something in her notebook.

Brandon mumbled an apology and took the only seat left at the front of the classroom.
Great
, he thought.
More bad luck. Just what I need.

BOOK: Bad-Luck Basketball
5.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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