Slam Dunk (2 page)

When Julian’s turn came, the coach called out, “Julian, you got weights around your ankles? Let’s see a little more hustle!”

Julian felt annoyed and singled out. He didn’t really try to pick it up. After all, it was just the first day.

A little later, Coach Valenti worked on one of basketball’s most basic and classic plays, the pick-and-roll. In the pick-and-roll, one offensive player creates a stationary block, or pick, on a defender. Another offensive player moves as if he’s about to shoot. Instead, he feeds the ball to the pick, who is pivoting, or rolling, toward the hoop. When done right, the pick-and-roll results in an easy layup. The play had been a Tornado specialty the previous year.

In the pick-and-roll drill, two offensive players were matched against two on defense. Julian and Grady worked as an offensive pairing, as they had sometimes done in the past. Grady dribbled toward where Julian had set his pick. But Julian was slow making his roll, and Grady’s pass sailed past him and out-of-bounds. Julian shook his head and trotted after the ball. As he came back with it, he noticed that Coach Valenti was looking at him, clearly not pleased by what he’d seen. But the coach didn’t say anything. Grady, too, gave Julian a puzzled look.

Julian watched other players run the same drill and decided that they looked pretty lame. So far, it seemed that his worst fears were proving to be accurate. Meanwhile, Grady kept up a stream of chatter designed to cheer on the rest of the guys. A few other players were also clapping their hands and shouting encouragement. Julian thought it sounded silly.

After a few more drills, the coach called for a break. Grady approached Julian. “You all right?” he asked.

Julian stared at the other boy. “Huh? Sure. Why?” Grady shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s just...I thought maybe something was wrong, like maybe you don’t feel well.”

“I’m fine,” insisted Julian.

Grady saw Mick Reiss standing nearby, looking hesitant about approaching, and smiled. “Yo, Mick! Looking good out there!”

“Well, thanks,” Mick said quietly. “I felt kind of rusty, but I’ll work it out, I guess. Uh... Julian? Hi, I’m Mick.”

Julian nodded toward the new guy. “Hi.”

Mick stood silently for a moment, as if waiting for Julian to say more. But Julian said nothing. Finally, Mick blurted, “I’m really looking forward to playing with you. I saw the state semis last year, when you scored twenty-six and pulled down twelve boards. It was awesome.”

Julian gave Mick a very thin smile. “Thanks.” Grady glanced at Julian and then faced Mick. “You have a good shooting touch yourself, man. I bet you see a lot of playing time this year, right, Jools?”

Julian said, “Yeah, well. Barry’s out, so...I guess.” He kneeled down and retied a shoelace.

Grady said, “Good to have you here, Mick.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Julian saw Mick walk away. He stood up to find Grady staring at him with narrowed eyes.

After a moment, Julian said, “
What?
”

Grady sighed and muttered, “Nothing, man. Not a thing.”

When practice resumed, Julian told himself to get it into high gear but somehow couldn’t do it. The coach did a one-on-one drill in which a defender tried to get the ball away from an offensive player, who had to keep dribbling until the coach stopped play. If the player stopped dribbling — “picked up the dribble” — it was the same as if the defender had taken the ball away, because the offensive player was trapped and couldn’t start dribbling again.

Julian went head-to-head against the red-haired newbie, who introduced himself as Len. Julian started to dribble, but Len had quick hands and swiped the ball away almost immediately. On his second try, Julian held on to the ball a little longer. Len reached in to flick it away for the second time. Julian, without thinking, clutched the ball in both hands, meaning that he’d picked up his dribble. Julian winced as Coach Valenti blew his whistle.

“Switch to defense, Julian,” said the coach. “Maybe you can get it back.”

But Len shielded the ball with his body, and when Julian tried to reach around him, Len whirled past him toward the basket and took an easy layup. When Len took the ball from the coach for a second time, Julian gave the other boy more room, staying a few feet away. Len didn’t try to get around Julian, but Julian didn’t come close to getting the ball, either. Finally, Julian leaned forward, blocked Len with his body, and snatched at the ball, but the coach whistled play to a halt.

“That’s a blocking foul,” he said to Julian. “You were all over him. Come on, you know better than that. On defense, you have to use your
feet.
”

Julian’s face turned hot, and he knew that he was blushing. He wasn’t used to being talked to like that by Coach Valenti. He felt humiliated, and he resented Len for showing him up.

“Okay, let’s have two more guys out there,” said the coach. Julian moved stiffly to the sidelines and glared out at the court.

How come the coach got on my case like that?
he wondered.
This isn’t a game. It isn’t even an important practice session. It’s the first day, that’s all!

Okay,
Julian admitted to himself,
I didn’t hustle. But Coach Valenti knows I’ll be there when it’s crunch time!

In this angry frame of mind, Julian watched the rest of the team go through the drill. He wasn’t impressed by what he saw. This bunch wasn’t anywhere near as good as the Tornadoes of last season. He was going to have to carry them on his back, and they would probably lose anyway.

And what was the deal with Grady? The point guard kept on talking it up, clapping his hands, being a cheerleader. What for? Julian found his mood getting worse and worse. As practice continued, Julian’s performance became less and less energetic.

When the session ended, the coach spoke to the team, sounding surprisingly cheerful and optimistic. Julian was startled at first but decided that the coach had to give the impression that everything was going well, even when it clearly wasn’t.

“Okay,” Coach Valenti said, “I think we have the makings of a solid team here. See you all tomorrow, same time, same place.”

As the Tornadoes headed for the locker room, Julian hung back, unwilling to join in the talking and joking of his teammates. Grady came over to him.

“Listen, a few guys are going to get something to eat and hang out. Want to come?”

Julian shook his head. “I better not. I have a lot to do at home. See you tomorrow.”

“You sure?” Grady asked. “Come on, just for a little while.”

“I told you,” replied Julian, trying not to sound grumpy, “I can’t today.”

Grady nodded. “Listen, maybe I’ll give you a call later, all right?”

“Yeah, sure,” Julian said, hoping nobody else would try to talk to him. He just didn’t feel like it.

He changed clothes in the locker room and slowly walked home alone. What had happened in the last few hours? He’d arrived at the gym really pumped, ready to get working, eager for what he was sure would be a good season. Now everything was ruined. The team was going to be no better than ordinary, and maybe worse. Most of his teammates were strangers, and he wasn’t looking forward to spending a lot of time with them, or to going through a lot of tiring, boring workouts. Was there anything he could do to make it better?

At the moment, it didn’t seem as if there was.

3

E
arth to Julian. Come in, Julian. Can you hear me?”

Julian looked up from his dinner plate to see his older sister, Megan, grinning at him. Megan played soccer on her high school team. Though not a gifted athlete, she was a tough competitor who loved the sport and gave everything she had whenever she played.

Now she looked more closely at her brother and asked, “Seriously, what’s up, bro? You really look down. You feeling all right?”

Julian recalled Grady asking him the same question during practice. “I’m
fine,
” he snapped.

“Whoa!” said Megan, shielding her face with her arms in mock terror. “Okay, you’re fine. I’m glad to hear it.”

Julian’s father, who was helping himself to a second slab of meat loaf, said, “You do look down, champ. Is anything on your mind?”

“Wasn’t this the first day of basketball practice?” asked his mother. “Did it go well?”

Julian sighed and shoved away his plate. “It didn’t go too great. This year’s team is.. .” He shook his head.

“What’s wrong?” asked Mr. Pryce.

Julian explained that Barry was injured and that all the other starters from last year were gone.

“And the new guys look really lame,” he said. “We’re going to be bad this year, and I’ll be the guy who gets all the grief because I’m this big star. It’s a lousy deal.”

“Hold on,” said Megan. “Today was your first practice? So this was the first time you saw most of the guys play?”

Julian nodded.

Megan hooted. “You say the team stinks after
one practice?
Lighten up a little; give it time! It’s way too early to give up.”

“I didn’t say I was giving up!” Julian retorted. “All I said was —”

“Settle down,” said Mr. Pryce. “There’s no need to raise your voice like that. And Megan has a point. Give Coach Valenti some time and some credit.”

“Anyway,” Megan went on, “what if it turns out that you’re right, and the team isn’t all that good? What if you lose some games? Are you saying you don’t want to play unless you’re sure you can win everything?”

“I didn’t say that,” Julian muttered.

His mother said, “After what you boys did last season, this year is almost sure to be less successful, isn’t it?”

“Maybe it makes sense to wait awhile before deciding how good the Tornadoes are,” Mr. Pryce said as he cut into his meat loaf.

“Yeah, cheer up, bro,” suggested Megan. “It probably isn’t all that bad.”

Julian had hoped for more sympathy from his family, more understanding, but it sounded as if they weren’t going to offer it. As soon as he could do so, he left the table and went to his room. He spent a moment looking at the trophies, framed pictures and clippings, and other souvenirs from last season. It didn’t look as though he’d be adding much to the collection this year. He flopped onto his bed, thinking it would be nice to find
somebody
who understood what he was going through.

When the phone rang, he let someone downstairs answer it. Then he heard his father’s voice call out.

“Julian! Phone call! It’s Grady.”

Julian groaned to himself. He was not in a good mood, and the idea of talking to Grady didn’t appeal to him at all. But he also knew that if he didn’t speak to Grady, his parents would want to know why, and that seemed even less appealing. He picked up the phone.

“Hi.”

“Hey, Jools, what’s up?” Even through a phone line, Grady sounded cheerful and full of energy. Julian frowned.

“Not much,” he replied. “What’s up with you?” “Oh, nothing,” Grady said. “Hey, a bunch of us went over to the ice cream shop this afternoon. Mick was there, and this guy Len Hornsby, and a few other guys — I don’t even know their names yet. I wish you’d have come, too.”

“Well, I couldn’t make it. Like I said,” Julian replied, lying on his back with the phone tucked under his chin.

“Yeah, right. Anyway.. .” Grady paused. It was as though he wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted to say next. After a few seconds, he went on.

“They’re really all right,” he said. “Mick is a cool guy, and Len is sort of quiet but I think he’s pretty nice, too. And they
all
kept talking about how great a player you are. I mean, they really look up to you.”

Julian wondered if Grady was exaggerating, trying to persuade Julian to be nicer to the new players. As he listened to Grady chatter on, he looked up at a framed picture on the wall — it was of him, with Barry on one side and Max on the other. The three of them were grinning like idiots at the camera and had their arms draped over one another’s shoulders. Julian knew he would miss them, on and off the court.

He realized that Grady had stopped talking and was waiting for him to say something back. “Uh, well... I’m glad you had a good time,” he said.

“Well, we really did,” said Grady. “And I think when you get to know them, you’ll like them, too. I mean, sure, it won’t be like last year, but we’re going to have a good team. I think we could make the play-offs.”

Julian couldn’t help chuckling. “Yeah, huh? Well, it’s good you feel that way,” he said, not wanting to give his own opinion of the team. But Grady sensed what Julian was thinking.

“Yeah,” said Grady after a moment, “I
do
feel that way. And I’m sorry you don’t.”

Even though Grady wasn’t doing anything but speaking the truth, Julian was annoyed.

“How do you know what I feel? Did you learn how to read minds or something?”

“Oh, come on, Julian,” Grady said. “You don’t have to say a word. It’s obvious what you think about this team. You think we’re pretty bad. And it’s not fair, because —”

“First of all,” Julian said, cutting Grady off, “you can’t say what I’m thinking unless I tell you. And second, I can think anything I want.”

“You don’t know how good the Tornadoes are yet,” insisted Grady. “Nobody does. It’s too soon to know. And I think we’re going to be pretty tough — partly because you’re the center, and partly because we have some other guys who can play hard, too. But it doesn’t help the team if you treat those new guys the way you did today. You’re the —”

“What did I do?” Julian demanded. “Did I insult them? I didn’t do anything!”

“Right!” replied Grady. “You didn’t do
anything.
You hardly talked to them, you didn’t make them feel welcome, you didn’t have a nice word to say to them. That’s
real
helpful.”

“It’s not my job to be a cheerleader,” Julian said. “You’re the main man,” Grady snapped. “Mick came up and wanted to talk, but what did you do? You acted like he wasn’t even there! You couldn’t be bothered to make him feel like part of the team, and don’t tell me that’s not part of your job, because it
is.
”

Julian sat up straight on the edge of his bed. “Wrong.
My job
is to score and rebound and play defense. In
games.
And I’ll do that, don’t worry.”