Double Team (10 page)

I
t was pretty crazy right after the game. “Wait, wait,” called Khalid over the noise. “Did someone say something about a buffet?”

The whole team laughed at that. Now I knew why I liked that guy so much: He reminded me of Mike. After that, we shook hands with the other team. We meant it, too. It was a good, clean — and very close! — game.

Jammer was ahead of me in the line. When we reached the end, he turned around. I held out my hand, but he shook his head.

“Nah, nah,” he said. “Up top.”

He held his hand all the way up, and I reached up and slapped it.

“You know what I mean, Amar'e? We'll both be playing up there pretty soon.”

I nodded. “I'm almost there,” I said.

“Next time I'll be lobbing it to you.”

“I can't wait,” I said. “But right now, I've got to go!”

“Yeah?” he said, surprised. “There's gonna be a big presentation. I caught a look at the trophies earlier. They're pretty sweet. You should stick around.”

“Can't,” I said. “Got someplace to be.”

I headed toward the edge of the court.

“Where you going?” I heard someone shout.

It was Khalid. His eyes didn't miss anything. I didn't have time to explain, but I had something I wanted to say to him. “You made a believer out of me!” I called back.

“Not just you!” he said, nodding toward the crowd as it spilled out of the stands.

I wished I had time to talk to him some more. Instead, I pointed at him the way you point at a guy after he sets you up with a perfect pass. I figured Khalid had seen that move plenty.

I stepped off the court just as Overtime was stepping onto it. “You're heading the wrong way,” he said.

“Kind of in a hurry,” I said. “Sorry.”

“Don't apologize to me,” he said. “Not after the game you just played.”

“Thanks,” I said. “And thanks for the invitation. This was amazing.”

“There'll be more of these in your future,” he said. “And I'll make sure you get your trophy. Now get wherever you need to go!”

People started congratulating me as soon as I stepped off the court. I won't lie: It was pretty amazing. But I just said thanks and kept moving until I found Dad and Junior.

“Great game!” said Junior.

“Way to stand tall, STAT!” said Dad.

“Thanks,” I said. “But can I get a ride? Like, right now?”

“Where's the fire?” said Dad.

“I think I know,” said Junior.

Dad tossed him the keys to his truck. “Then you take him,” he said. “Think I'm going to stick around a while.
Get a hot dog and maybe brag on my son a little. Just pick me up when you're done.”

It was cool to see Dad enjoying his day off, but Junior and I were off and running. Well, jogging anyway. We reached the truck just in time to beat most of the traffic out of the parking lot. We left the tournament and headed for the highway. Twenty minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot of another, smaller tournament.

I hopped down out of the truck and headed for the entrance. Once I got inside, I spotted a familiar face. It was Deuce's cousin.

“Hey, Timmy,” I said. “I'm not too late, am I?”

“Nah,” he said. “They're just about to tip-off in the final.”

“Awesome!”

We headed up into the stands. From our seats we had a good view of the team we came to see. I stood up and put my hands around my mouth. “Let's go, Mike!” I shouted.

“Let's go, Deuuuuce!” shouted Timmy.

We called out the last one together: “Let's go, Doug-EEEEEEEE!”

It hadn't been too hard to talk Dougie into taking my place for this one. Especially after I promised to help him get up to speed in practice.

“Think they heard us?” asked Timmy, as the ref tossed the ball up in the air.

Mike jumped straight up after it. He had springs in his feet and a smile on his face.

“Oh, yeah,” I said. “They know we're here for them.”