Long Shot (6 page)

“Yeah, thanks, Dad.”

“No problem. Play hard and good luck.”

“Thanks,” I said as I went to close the door.

“Nick!” he called out and I held the door.

“You think you might be able to use these?” he asked, holding up my shoes.

“Thanks!” I called out as I grabbed them. “Thanks a lot!”

He smiled. “I'll be back in two hours. I'll be waiting in the car … way over there,” he said, pointing to the far end of the parking lot.

I couldn't help but smile back. “Thanks again.”

I turned around and hurried after Kia who was
already inside the front door of the building.

There were a lot of people waiting outside the gym but it was obvious that there were a lot fewer than last week. I scanned the crowd looking for our friends. Had they made the cut? Quickly I was able to pick out three … four … six … seven … eight guys — everybody was all here!

I hadn't wanted to call anybody all week. What would I say to them if they told me they'd been cut? I knew I wouldn't know what to say to them if I'd been called and told not to come back. Thank goodness everybody had made it at least this far.

“Hi, guys!” I yelled as I rushed up to them.

“Hi, Nick … What's happening? … Good to see you,” various people mumbled.

Kia gave me a confused look. She knew it wasn't like me to come up and start talking to people before a try-out. I was just so glad to see everybody was still here.

“Boy, he's cut a lot of people already,” D.J. said.

“He's going for quality instead of quantity,” Kia joked.

“There's no point in inviting back people who have no chance,” Jamie said. “It's just wasting their time and getting their hopes up for no reason.”

“I guess you're right,” I agreed.

“I see everybody remembered not to wear their uniform this week,” Kia said.

Everybody was dressed in a different combination
of shirt and shorts — none of which even had a hint of Magic orange.

“I almost forgot what he'd said to us last week,” D.J. admitted. “I was half way out to the car before I remembered and ran back to change.”

“It would have been okay either way,” I said.

“I don't think so,” Kia said.

“Neither do I,” Jamie agreed. “I betcha he would have cut D.J. on the spot if he'd worn his Magic stuff.”

“Maybe, but that's not what I mean,” I said. I opened the zipper on my bag and pulled out a T-shirt. “I brought along an extra shirt and pair of shorts just in case somebody forgot.”

“That was smart,” Kia said.

Right then Coach Barkley poked his head out the gym door. “Time,” he called out loudly.

“Let's go,” I mumbled. “And good luck to everybody.”

We started in the door of the gym as parents and kids from the last squad started to file out. There were a lot more of them coming out than there were of us going in. Obviously their coach hadn't cut nearly as deep yet.

I followed Kia over to the corner bench where we both put down our bags.

“There are not many people here at all,” Kia said.

I did a quick count. “Twenty-one kids. That means unless somebody is coming late he cut
more than forty kids.”

“That's a lot of cuts. Although more than the cuts, I'm surprised by some of the kids he
didn't
cut,” Kia said.

“What do you mean?”

“Look who's over there in the corner.”

I went to turn around when Kia grabbed my arm and jerked me back around.

“Try and be a little more casual, okay?” she asked.

Slowly I swiveled my head around. Just getting up from the bench was the player he'd been telling off at the end of the first try-out. I figured he was gone for sure after hearing that … although I'd thought he'd done okay during the try-out.

The coach blew his whistle and the shrill sound echoed off the walls. We all ran to where he stood.

“Laps … five half speed … five full speed, then warm-ups,” Coach Barkley barked. “I need somebody to lead the warm-ups. You,” he said, pointing at me.

My eyes widened slightly in response.

“Can you do it?” he asked.

“I think I can.”

“Think you can or know you can?” he demanded.

“I know,” I said. “I've done it before.”

“Good. You lead warm-ups after the laps. Now let's move it!”

Kia sprinted out to get to the front of the line and everybody fell in behind her.

As I ran I tried to picture what I'd do. Leading
the warm-ups meant that every eye — including the coach's — would be on me. I suddenly felt nervous and then instantly felt stupid for feeling nervous. I'd done warm-ups hundreds and hundreds of times and led them on at least a dozen occasions. Of course I could do warm-ups. I knew exactly what to do.

I turned my attention to the kids running laps with me. Nine of them were people I knew and knew well — kids I had played ball with before. A few of them, like D.J. and Jamie, and Brian and Mark, and of course Kia, had been my teammates for three straight years. I didn't spend my time focusing on any of them. Instead I looked at the kids I didn't know.

I remembered most of them from the first try-out. I recalled that a couple of them were really good. I tried to figure out which of them might be the coach's son. Nobody really looked like him at all, but there was one big kid who played like the coach would have played. He was all elbows and legs and hustle. He'd knocked me down twice last try-out — once during the warm-ups.

A few more were good — maybe as good as some of my friends. That meant that they had a chance of making the team and replacing somebody — maybe me.

Then there were three others who weren't quite so good. Two of them were the biggest kids in the
gym. They were running at the very end, struggling to catch up to the rest of the line. At least I understood why they were still here. There's an old saying — you can't coach height. Maybe neither was even that good but they were tall and every team needed some height.

The final guy was more of a mystery. He was the one Kia and I had noticed — the guy the coach was chewing out at the end of the first try-out. He had a good shot and could dribble, but whenever I'd noticed him in that first try-out, he seemed to be going at half speed. I figured that was the kiss of death with this coach. I'd keep my eye on him. Who was I fooling … I'd keep an eye on everybody

As we finished up the laps, I made my final decision on what I'd start with.

“Everybody in a circle,” I called out.

A few of the kids started to slowly gather around.

“Was that an invitation or an order?” Coach Barkley asked.

“What?” I asked, not understanding what he meant.

“If you want people to listen to you, then take charge,” he barked.

I nodded. “Hurry up!” I yelled loudly. “Let's get started!”

Everybody formed a circle and I started to lead them in a series of stretches. As I continued
with the warm-ups Coach Barkley slowly moved around the outside, watching everybody. I liked him watching the other kids because that meant his eyes weren't on me. Just then he looked up at me and our eyes met. He scowled and I looked away quickly.

* * *

“One minute for water!” Coach Barkley yelled out.

I dropped the ball and moved as quickly as my tired legs would carry me to my water bottle. Kia had already grabbed her water and was chugging it down.

“How much time left?” she asked.

“About twenty … maybe twenty-five minutes,” I panted out between swigs from my bottle.

“If his practices are going to be as hard as his try-outs it might be better not to make the team,” Kia said.

“Don't even joke about that,” I said. “Besides,
nothing
could be harder than this.”

Kia held her water bottle upside down. “Do you have any more water?” she asked.

“None.”

“I've got an extra.”

It was that kid. I wasn't surprised he had water left because he wasn't sweating as hard as the rest of us.

“Thanks,” Kia said as she took the bottle.

“L.B.,” he said. “I'm L.B.,” he said offering his hand.

“I'm Kia,” she said, awkwardly shaking hands. “And this is Nick.”

We shook hands as well.

“You two know how to play,” he said.

“Thanks,” Kia said. “You got a pretty good shot yourself.”

“I get lucky sometimes.”

Kia took a big gulp from the bottle and then flashed me a smile. “Let's get back before he calls us.”

“That's smart,” I said and put down my bottle. We trotted back. L.B. took another drink and didn't follow.

We reached Coach Barkley just as he blew the whistle. Kids started to reassemble.

“Hurry up, you're wasting my time!” he yelled angrily. “Anybody who needs more rest can have all the time they need … after I cut them!”

That caused the last three stragglers, including L.B., to rush to his side.

“We're going to spend the last twenty minutes scrimmaging.”

A rumble of excitement filled the gym.

“Before we get started, I have a question,” Coach Barkley said.

Everybody perked up their ears.

“Raise your hand if you're tired.”

Most of the kids put up a hand. I was tired but kept mine down. Maybe that was how he was going to pick the people to start.

“Those of you who didn't raise your hands obviously weren't working hard enough during practice, so I expect you to work hard during the scrimmage!” he bellowed.

I wished the floor could just open and swallow me up. He bent down and reached into an equipment bag at his feet. He pulled out a bunch of red and blue bibs — the pull-overs you use to determine which team you're on in a scrimmage. He started to toss them to kids. Kia got a red one … so did D.J. … Jamie got a blue one. Then he threw a blue one to me. He gave out five red and five blue. Getting them first was a good sign — it meant he knew we could play ball … or did it mean that he thought we were on the edge and he needed to see us one more time before the cuts … or maybe … Oh, just stop thinking about it! I pulled the bib over my head.

“I have one last question before we get started,” he said. “Do any of you have any friends here?”

“Sure,” D.J. said. “Almost everybody.”

“Yeah, lots of friends,” Jamie added.

Most of the rest of us nodded our heads in agreement.

“Wrong,” Coach Barkley said. “Completely and
utterly wrong. None of you have a single friend here.”

Everybody looked confused.

“I see you don't believe me. Then let me ask this. Is there anybody here who'd give up a spot on their team for somebody else?”

Nobody answered. I looked down at the ground.

“That's what I figured. Lots of you know each other, been friendly, been teammates, but right now you shouldn't be thinking that anybody in this entire gym is your friend,” he said waving his hand.

“Nobody, and I repeat,
nobody
, in here is your friend. Everybody, and I repeat,
everybody
, in here is your enemy. Their job is to beat you out of a spot on this team, to make you look like a fool. And if you don't treat them that way during this scrimmage, then you don't want to be on my team! Do you understand me?” he yelled, pointing at D.J.

“Yeah … sure,” he mumbled.

“How about you?” he asked, now pointing at another player.

“Yeah,” he said.

Coach Barkley went from player to player asking each player if they understood, and each time he asked he yelled it out louder and louder until the gym walls seemed to be shaking.

“Now let's play some ball! I want to see some sweat and guts out there!”

“Did you hear?” Kia yelled as she ran down the street toward me.

“Hear what?”