Slam Dunk (7 page)
As they raced back to their defensive positions, Julian and Grady touched hands briefly, congratulating each other for the bucket.
“Defense, go to a one–three–one zone,” the coach called. The 1–3–1 called for Grady, as point guard, to set up in the middle near midcourt. Julian moved almost under the basket, just outside the key, while the other three defenders formed a line ten feet from the basket.
Brandon brought the ball over midcourt. Grady harassed his opponent with darting hands, trying to break his concentration and cause a turnover. Brandon gave up his dribble and held the ball overhead, looking for an open man. Grady moved in on him. Suddenly, Mick swept in, leaving Brandon trapped between two defenders and unable to dribble out of the jam. Brandon flung up a desperation pass in the general direction of Len, who was trying to get away from Anthony. Len lunged after the ball and pulled it in before it went out-of-bounds.
Len fired a chest pass to Terrell. Terrell turned to shoot but noticed Cal, in the low post to the right of the basket, waving a hand and hoping to get the ball. Terrell threw a bounce pass to Cal, who took it and dribbled out a little farther from the key, with Julian close behind him. Warren ran to the baseline so that Cal could set a pick for him, and Cal tossed Warren the ball. Cal’s pick left Warren open for a fifteen-foot jump shot, which rimmed the hoop and wouldn’t fall.
Julian found himself in perfect position for the rebound. As he went up to clear the boards, he saw Grady run full-speed for the other basket, with Mick close behind. Julian threw a long, baseball-style pass that Grady caught. Len and Terrell raced back to defend as fast as they could. Len managed to catch up with Grady. Grady passed to Mick, who was racing straight up the key, and Mick laid the ball up and in.
Julian clapped his hands in appreciation of the fast-break bucket, and Coach Valenti called out, “Good hustle, Mick. Guys, look out for those breakaways. Warren, Terrell, you got caught too deep that time.”
The scrimmage continued, and the defensive squads worked on different zone defenses, alternating the 2–3, 3–2, and 1–3–1. Julian especially liked the 1–3–1, which put him in great position for rebounds. But he quickly realized that Mick was a strong rebounder, too, with a talent for anticipating where to position himself to block opponents. He began to feel a little better about the Tornadoes’ chances for the coming season. Terrell was a relentless defender, whose long reach could strip unwary opponents of the ball — he grabbed one away from Anthony at one point — and Cal, with a little work, could be a reliable backup at center. Cal had a good vertical leap and could shoot effectively up to twelve feet from the basket.
After fifteen minutes, Julian’s squad had scored fourteen points, and their opponents had ten. The coach ended the scrimmage at that point.
“Good work!” Coach Valenti said. “I like the way you’re all hustling, and I didn’t see many mental errors. Anthony, try not to rush your shots. Get your feet under you and square up your shoulders before you shoot. Unless the shot clock is running down, there’s no reason to hurry. But you made a nice touch pass to set up Roger’s last shot. Quick ball movement usually means open shots, sooner or later.
“I saw two nice trap plays. Grady, Mick, you almost created a turnover. Brandon and Warren, good trap on Grady. Always be on the lookout for trapping de- fenses, guys. Be ready to help if you see a teammate getting trapped.
“Julian. Good work. But watch the elbows when you rebound. You might have got whistled for an elbow on Terrell. We don’t want you getting into foul trouble. And, all of you, don’t dribble so high. Some of you like to let the ball come way up, chest high or more. It’s harder to control and easier to steal. Keep the dribbling lower. And dribbling should mostly involve your fingers and your wrist. Again, it’s easier to control that way.
“Now, let’s see each of you take a few foul shots so I can check your form. We won’t use much practice time on them, so you should work on foul shots on your own.”
Julian missed his first two attempts from the line. “Too flat,” said the coach. “Try putting more loft on them.”
He hit two out of his next three.
“Better,” said Coach Valenti.
Grady went to the line, stared at the rim, and bounced the ball six times. His shot rattled around the rim and went in.
“As a rule,” said the coach, “I don’t like all that ball-bouncing on the free-throw line. It may throw your concentration off. More important, when you shoot, bend your knees and put more of your body into the shot. Try it again, Grady.”
Grady hit two straight.
After everyone had taken a turn at the line, the coach said, “All right, we’ll run another scrimmage in a little while. Take a minute to think about what you need to work on.”
Mick walked up to Julian, who was trying a few more foul shots. After Julian had shot, Mick said, “I like Coach Valenti. My old coach was into ‘rah-rah’ stuff, but he never spent much time working on technique.”
Grady came up in time to overhear this. “Yeah, you’re right. The coach really gives good tips on style. He’s good on height, too.”
Mick stared at Grady. “Huh?”
Grady nodded, straight-faced. “Sure. When he started working with Julian, Julian was only five-three. And look at him now.”
Julian said, “Yeah. I do height exercises every night. I tie weights to my feet and hang by my hands from my closet door.”
Mick’s laugh was loud enough to make heads turn in his direction. He started to explain, “Grady says...he says that...he says the coach...”
He burst out laughing again.
Grady spread his hands and shrugged. “I didn’t say anything. He just started laughing like that for no reason.”
“It’s all right,” Julian said, pointing to Mick. “I don’t think he’s dangerous. He’s just a little... weird, that’s all.”
The coach came back out on the floor, clapping his hands. “Let’s run another scrimmage. This time, we’ll focus on passing.”
He rearranged the squads. Now Julian’s team consisted of Len, Roger, Terrell, and Brandon. Grady, Anthony, Mick, Cal, and Warren made up the other group.
“This time, use man-to-man defense and make five passes before taking a shot,” said Coach Valenti. “Keep the passes quick, move without the ball, and remember: whether you’re on offense or defense, always know where the ball is. Keep those heads on swivels! Grady, put the ball in play.”
Grady’s squad took the ball into the offensive zone and passed it around the perimeter. Julian worked hard to keep Cal from getting easy shots from under the basket. Then Anthony got away from Len long enough to sink a fifteen-foot jump shot.
As his squad went over to offense, Julian thought he had a fast-break opportunity — but then he remembered that the team had to make five passes before shooting. So he decided not to waste his energy racing down the court. A minute later, he crossed through the key and took a bounce pass from Roger that somehow got between Grady and Mick. It was the fifth pass. Julian pivoted and jumped, his arm cocked for a shot. But when two defenders leaped toward him to try to block it, he threw a pass to Terrell instead. Terrell’s shot was too hard off the board, but Julian soared high to pull down the rebound and put it back up for two points. The coach, acting as referee, blew his whistle.
“Cal, you were all over Julian on that shot. Julian, to the line for a free throw.”
Julian went to the line, took a deep breath, and remembered to arch his shot more. He sank it to complete a three-point play.
Everyone played hard in the scrimmage. Mick got hot and hit three straight jumpers. Mick’s squad wound up with seventeen points to fifteen for Julian’s group.
Finally, the coach called it quits. “Good work, everyone! Okay, take it easy till Monday. We have a few more practices before we play the Falcons Friday afternoon. I think we’ll be ready to give them a game. Julian, can I see you for a bit?”
Julian turned to Grady. “What’d I do now?” he whispered.
Grady shrugged. “Don’t sweat it. You did great today. See you in the locker room.”
Julian walked over to the coach, who was making notes on a clipboard. “Just a sec,” the coach said.
Finally, he stuck the clipboard under his arm. “I’d been worried about you last week, but today you looked like the player I remember from last year. I just wanted you to know that I’m happy to see that guy back with us.”
Julian felt a flood of relief. “Thanks.”
“It makes my job easier when a veteran on the team sets a good example. I appreciate it.”
Julian smiled, and the coach smiled back. “Okay, then. Take off. Have a nice Sunday.” Julian thought he probably would.
O
n Sunday mornings, Mr. Pryce always made waffles for breakfast. Julian realized that he was starving as soon as he smelled the waffles and sausages from his bedroom. He raced downstairs to find the rest of his family already digging in.
“Hey, bro,” said Megan, who was pouring syrup on her plate. “How’s the team looking? Still awful?”
Julian speared a couple of waffles and reached for the butter. “Nope. They’re looking pretty good. Don’t hog the syrup.”
Megan passed her brother the pitcher. “No kidding? What happened? Did you get some replacements? Or did the guys you said were terrible suddenly become superstars?”
Julian smiled. “Okay, I was wrong about the team. I made a mistake. Satisfied?”
“Hey, if you’re satisfied, I’m satisfied.” Megan shoved the platter of sausages closer to Julian’s side of the table. “Does this mean it’s okay for us to go to the games? You don’t want us to stay home?”
Mr. Pryce turned around from the counter, where he was pouring more batter into the waffle iron. “Megan...”
“It’s okay, Dad,” Julian said. “When Megan’s right, she’s right. Not that it happens often... but this time, she was. I was making a big deal out of nothing. The team probably won’t be as good as last year’s, but it’s going to be okay. And the new guys are cool.”
“Is everything all right between you and Grady?” asked Mrs. Pryce.
“Sure,” Julian said. “Barry helped to straighten that out. He made us come visit him together, and that was all it took, really.”
“How is Barry?” Megan asked. “Is he coming home soon?”
“I think he’s coming home today,” Julian said. He explained what he’d heard about Barry’s physical therapy. Megan winced.
“Wow! That sounds pretty heavy. And he’ll have to do this therapy for how long?”
Julian cut off a piece of waffle. “A few months, they say. It sounds tough, but Barry is a tough guy. He’ll do what he has to do. Anyway, after hearing about physical therapy, it seemed pretty lame to be whining about basketball practice and maybe losing some games.”
“But once the therapy is over, will he be able to play again?” asked Mrs. Pryce.
Julian looked up from his last bite of sausage. “They don’t know for sure, but probably. He’ll give it his best shot. I’m going to call his house later, see if he’s home and if he wants company.” He grabbed the syrup again.
“Julian!” said Mrs. Pryce. “How can you pour so much syrup on that waffle?”
Julian grinned at his mother. “It’s all in the way you use your wrist, Mom. Otherwise, you don’t get a controlled stream from the pitcher.”
Julian called the Streeters just after noon. Mr. Streeter said that Barry was home and would be happy to have company. Just as Julian put down the receiver, the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Jools, it’s Grady. Barry’s home.”
“Yeah, I talked to his father. I’m going over in a while.”
“Me too. Hey, there’s a good NBA game on the tube. Maybe we can watch.”
“Cool. See you there.”
Half an hour later, Julian found Barry and Grady in the Streeters’ living room. Grady sat in an armchair, with a big bowl of chips in front of him. Barry was in a wheelchair, with his injured leg propped up. He looked tired, and Grady gave Julian a look that was meant to send Julian a message, but Julian didn’t understand.
“Hey, good to see you home,” Julian said, reaching out a hand for Barry to shake. Barry looked at it as if he didn’t know what it meant, but finally he reached out his own hand. His shake was brief and unenthusiastic. Julian sat down and said, “It must feel great to be out of the hospital, huh?”
Barry nodded. “Yeah, pretty good. Uh, you want anything? Something to drink?” His voice was flat. Something wasn’t right.
“Not right now,” Julian said. “I pigged out on waffles a while ago, and I’m totally stuffed. Maybe later.”
“Okay,” Barry said. Julian sneaked a glance at Grady, who gave a tiny shake of his head. What was going on?
“Listen, I’ll be right back,” Barry said, and he slowly wheeled himself out of the room.
Julian and Grady watched him go, and when he was out of sight, Julian leaned closer to Grady and whispered, “What’s happening? Does he feel sick or something?”
Grady shook his head and, keeping his voice low, replied, “I don’t know. He’s been, like, totally down since I got here. Won’t say anything, won’t do anything. I don’t know. Maybe we should go.”
Julian frowned. “Did his mom or dad say anything?” “Nope. I mean, they said they’re glad to see me and they’re happy that Barry’s home, but they didn’t say there was anything wrong.”
Julian wasn’t sure what to do. “Let’s see what happens. Maybe he’ll lighten up, or tell us what’s going on.”
The boys sat there quietly until Barry returned and wheeled himself back to where he had been sitting.
“Sorry,” he said.
There was an embarrassing silence that Julian finally broke. “Did Grady tell you? We had a really good practice yesterday.”
“That right?” Barry asked, not sounding like he cared much either way. “Good deal.”
Grady said, “Maybe Barry doesn’t want to hear about us playing hoops right now.”
Barry said, “No, that’s okay. I don’t mind.”
Julian noticed a pair of crutches leaning in a corner. “How good are you with those crutches? Is it tough getting around with them?”
“A little,” Barry said. “I have to get used to them.” Mr. Streeter came in. “Julian, glad you could make it. Can I get you boys anything? Are you hungry, thirsty?”
