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Authors: Eric Walters

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BOOK: Boot Camp
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“Did
you
notice that we're amongst the shortest people in the gym?” Kia asked.

I looked around. I
hadn't
noticed, but she was right. Almost every kid and every adult in the room was taller than us.

“I just expected JYD to be here,” I said to Kia.

“You gotta be kidding,” a kid beside me said. He must have overheard our conversation.

“What?” I asked, hearing him, but not really understanding what he meant.

“This is a celebrity basketball camp,” he said. “Do you know what that means?”

“Um…that a celebrity is going to teach us about basketball?”

He laughed. “Yeah, right. Do you really think he's gonna be showing up today?”

“Of course, he will. It's his camp,” Kia said.

“That doesn't mean he's going to be here today.
Don't you know the way these celebrity camps work?” the kid asked.

“Explain it to us,” Kia said.

“Some famous basketball player lends his name to a camp, and then some assistants like these guys…,” he said, pointing at Mr. Williams and two other men standing beside him. I'd already noticed one of them. He was popping shots from the three-point line—I hadn't seen him miss one.

“These guys do all the work,” he said. “The big-time celebrity basketball player just shows up for an hour or two to have his picture taken with everybody.”

“That's not how it's going to be,” Kia said.

“Do you see Jerome Williams here right now?” the kid asked.

“No, but—”

“But nothing. You just don't know how these camps run.”

“And
you
just don't know Jerome Williams,” Kia snapped.

“And you do?” the kid demanded.

“We know—”

“Everybody on the wall right now!” Mr. Williams called out, cutting her off.

A few of the stragglers startled to a trot and a few continued to slowly saunter over.

“Now!” he yelled, and I almost jumped into the air in response.

Most of the remaining kids started running, but two or three continued slowly until they reached the wall. The mouthy kid was right beside me.

“Good afternoon,” Mr. Williams said. “I would have said good morning but we wasted part of that by moving so slowly. Before we get started I have a few things to say.”

I didn't know who he was, but he certainly seemed to be in charge of things. He was older— even older than my father.

“Let me start by introducing you to our coaches.”

So those were the three Coaches? What about Jerome? Was that kid right? Wasn't he going to be here?

“This is Sergeant Kevin.”

Sergeant? Did that mean he was in the military?

One of the men—the guy who'd been popping those shots—gave a slight bow. “Sergeant Kevin has been coaching ball longer than any of you
have been alive. He'll be leading many of the drills and will instill in you the importance of defensive ball—one of the things that's stood out on any team he has ever coached.” He paused. “Anything you'd like to talk to them about right now?”

Sergeant Kevin nodded and stepped forward.

“I've been impressed with what I've seen so far. Unfortunately the impression many of you have left is not a
good
first impression. Many of you looked like you were half asleep as you moseyed across the floor. This is a gymnasium not your bedroom! From now on, you better all remember we don't walk anywhere. We run. Do you understand?”

I shrugged my shoulders and—

“Do you understand?” he bellowed.

“Yes,” a few kids replied.

“I can't hear you!” he yelled.

“Yes!” people yelled back.

“Yes,
sir
, should be the answer I expect! Now let's hear it again!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Louder!”

“Yes, sir!” we all screamed.

He nodded his head. “That's better…much better.”

“Thank you, Sergeant Kevin,” the older coach said. “And now, I'd like you to meet another one of our coaches, Sergeant Josh.”

The second man stepped forward. “Good morning, gentlemen…and lady,” he said, gesturing to Kia.

Every eye in the place looked down at her— and me standing beside her.

“Many of you know each other. Some of you know nobody. But, as of the moment you walked into this gym, we're all teammates, and as such, you will treat each other with the respect and courtesy that you treat teammates. Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir!” people yelled back.

“I can't hear you!”

“Yes, sir!” everybody, including me, bellowed out.

“When you get rewarded, you will get rewarded as a team, and when you get punished, you will be punished as a team. And that punishment will often involve running and doing push-ups,” Sergeant Josh said.

“Everybody, down on your bellies!” Mr. Williams called out.

Slowly, hesitantly, kids did what he ordered.

“I'm now going to show you all how to do a push-up,” he said.

“Like we haven't seen a push-up,” the guy beside me said under his breath. He seemed to have something to say about everything. I edged slightly away.

The man's back was rigid, his arms straight out; he bent down until his nose touched the ground. Then he pushed himself back to the set position. He did a second push-up, then a third, a fourth and then in the fifth, he pushed off so strongly that he flew up and did a hand clap! He jumped to his feet. He certainly didn't seem that old all of a sudden.

“As you know my name is Mr. Williams,” he said. “Although you kids won't be calling me Mr. Williams. You will call me
Sergeant Push-up
.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” the kid beside me mumbled.

“Odds are,” he continued, “that you are all going to be doing a
whole
lot of push-ups this
week. If we catch you walking when you should be running, you'll be doing push-ups.”

“If you're not paying attention when we're giving instructions…,” Sergeant Kevin said.

“You'll be doing push-ups,” Mr. Williams—I mean, Sergeant Push-up—said.

“If you're fighting with or criticizing a team-mate…,” Sergeant Josh said.

“You'll be doing push-ups,” Sergeant Push-up bellowed.

“If you're late…,” Sergeant Kevin said. “You'll be doing push-ups,” Sergeant Push-up yelled.

Just then the door at the far end of the gym opened and in walked Jerome, followed by Johnnie. I wanted to rush up and say hello, but of course I didn't. There was a rumble of whispers and pointing as everybody else noticed them too.

Kia leaned across me and looked the kid in the eye.

“Gee, that looks a lot like Jerome Williams, unless I'm wrong,” Kia said.

“So what?” said the mouthy kid. “That just means this is the hour he'll be here.”

“Eyes on me!” Sergeant Push-up yelled, and
the crowd quieted down. He turned around to watch the two men saunter across the floor. They were smiling and waving.

“You're late!” Sergeant Push-up called out to them.

“Traffic was backed up on the Beltway,” Johnnie said.

“Don't care why. You're late, and when anybody is late, we're all late. Everybody assume the position. I need
five
push-ups.”

“You want us to do push-ups?” Jerome asked.

He had a surprised look on his face—a really surprised look. Johnnie even looked embarrassed. I didn't think I'd ever seen JYD when he wasn't smiling.

“You're late, you do push-ups. Those are the rules.”

This was really uncomfortable. Jerome walked over until he was standing right beside—actually over top of—Sergeant Push-up. The Sergeant stared up at him. His expression looked like he meant business.

“Do you really think we're doing push-ups?” Jerome demanded.

Johnnie and the other coaches had moved in
and now all of them surrounded Sergeant Push-up.

“Rules are rules in this gym, whether you're just
starting
to play basketball or you're a
starter
in the NBA.”

Jerome and Johnnie put their things down on the floor. Was this going to become a fight?

Jerome suddenly dropped to the floor, along with Johnnie and the other coaches. They assumed the push-up position.

Chapter Three

“Everybody, assume the position!” Sergeant Push-up yelled.

What did he mean…did he really want us
all
to do push-ups?

“We get rewarded as a team, we get punished as a team. Everybody, assume the push-up position!” Sergeant Push-up bellowed. “Now!” he yelled, and we all dropped down to the floor, including him.

“One!” Sergeant Push-up yelled out, and everybody did a push-up.

“Two!” and we all followed.

“Three!” he bellowed. Doing push-ups didn't seem to take any air from his lungs.

“Four!” I started to feel it in my arms.

“And five! Now everybody on their feet.”

As we rose up Jerome and Johnnie grabbed their things and put them down on the bleachers.

“This may be the JYD Basketball Boot Camp,” Sergeant Push-up said, “but that doesn't mean that the rules apply any less to you both. The rules are the rules. Am I correct, Jerome?”

“Yes, sir,” Jerome said.

“Is that clear, Johnnie?”

“Yes, sir,” Johnnie said.

Sergeant Push-up nodded his head. Jerome walked over and gave him a big hug! I think that shocked me more than them having to do the push-ups. Sergeant Push-up didn't seem like the hugging type, but he hugged Jerome back.

“Good morning, everybody,” Jerome said. “Thank you all for being here, and please accept our apologies for being late. It won't happen again, you have my
word
on that.”

Jerome flashed a big smile that was closer to the expression I was used to seeing on his face.

“We're going to start with some warm-ups,” Jerome said. “But here at the JYD basketball camp we do things a little bit differently. Here to warm you up is my really good friend.” He turned around. “JY, come on down!” he yelled.

The door at the end of the gym popped open and a big, brown costumed dog appeared. It was JY, Jerome's mascot, a Junk Yard Dog!

“Let's give it up for him!” Johnnie yelled out and people started to cheer.

JY bounced up front, whistle in hand.

“Is this a basketball camp or a kid's birthday party?” the mouthy kid said under his breath.

“You should just be grateful they let cartoon characters in or you couldn't get in yourself,” Kia said.

The kid's mouth dropped open, but before he could answer loud music started playing. I looked over to the bleachers. Jerome was sitting there working a soundboard, controlling the music.

“We're going to be having ourselves a little contest…an aerobic dance contest,” Johnnie said.

“A what?” I gasped.

“Did he say dance contest?” Kia asked.

“Let's see what sort of moves you all got!” Sergeant Josh called out.

Johnnie was standing right beside JY and he started dancing. Both Sergeant Kevin and Sergeant Josh began to dance as well. The two of them were doing a bit of a bump as they grooved to the music.

“Let's see what everybody's got!” Johnnie yelled.

This was just plain crazy. There was no way anybody was going to—I looked down the line. A whole bunch of kids were moving to the music.

The music suddenly got a whole lot louder. Jerome jumped off the stage and joined JY and the other coaches. The only one who wasn't dancing was Sergeant Push-up—although I could see that he was tapping his foot ever so slightly.

“Best moves get prizes!” JYD yelled out. “Let's see what you got!”

One kid stepped forward. He started to do a really fancy hip-hop sort of step. He was good, really good. A few people clapped and hooted. Jerome stepped over and gave him a big high-five.

Down at the far end of the line another kid jumped forward. He did a moonwalk and then a really cool, running man sort of thing! He was amazing!

“Look at this man dance!” Johnnie yelled, and there was more cheering as the kid continued to make move after move.

Up and down the line people were moving—
some a lot and some just a little. I was probably moving less than anybody else. I couldn't dance.

“Come on, Nick, just shake some body parts,” Kia chided me.

I tried to follow the lead of the guy over from Kia. He was moving but not too much. I shook a little and clapped my hands…sort of in time with the music.

The kid beside me started to laugh.

“What's so funny?” I asked.

“Man, I've heard of people busting a move before, but I ain't never seen a busted move!” he said.

Kia broke out laughing.

“I don't know why you're laughing, girl. It ain't like you're doing any better,” the kid said.

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