Full Court Press (2 page)

“I'm not sure what the big decision is about,” my mother said as she started to clear away the supper dishes.

“I just assumed that you two would try out for any basketball team, anywhere, any-time,” she continued.

“It's not that simple,” I said as I started to put plates into the dishwasher.

“It's the
school
team,” Kia added.

“And that's a fortunate coincidence, since you both go to the school,” Mom said. “So what's the problem?”

“You don't understand. The team is for the grade fives. It's sort of a senior team,”
explained.

“It's a rule? You two aren't allowed to try out for the team?” Mom asked.

“No… I don't think it's a rule or anything. It's more like… like a tradition.”

“A tradition?” she questioned. “Thanksgiving dinner with your in-laws, or sending out Christmas cards, or wedding showers are traditions. I think that a school team should have the best players in the school, even if they are in kindergarten.”

“Come on, Mom, kindergarten kids couldn't make the team.”

“But maybe a couple of grade three students could. You two are among the best players in the whole school, aren't you?” Mom asked.

“Not the best,” I answered.

“But you two were on the best three-onthree team in the school. Along with Marcus you won the tournament, so doesn't that make you two of the best three players?” she asked.

“Well… like you said, Marcus was on our team,” I explained.

“And he is the
best
player in the whole school,” Kia added. “Without him we never
would have had a chance of winning.”

“I see,” my mother said. “So there's no question that Marcus will make the school team.”

“Oh, for sure,” I agreed, and Kia nodded her head in agreement.

“And I assume that some of the other students in the school are pretty good too,” my mother continued.

“A few,” Kia said.

“Yeah. Kingsley is really good, and there's Dean, and probably Adam Thompson, and —”

“And Kyle is pretty good, too,” Kia said.

“Yeah, Kyle too,” I agreed.

“So that makes five,” my mother said. “And how many players will be on the team?”

“I don't know. At least ten, maybe twelve,” I answered.

“So that means there are still somewhere between five and seven spots open. Are there that many other kids in the school who are better than you two?”

“No way!” Kia said.

I shook my head. “Not that many.”

“You don't sound as confident as Kia,” my mother said.

I never sounded as confident as Kia did
because I never
felt
as confident as she did. She was always that way — completely sure of success until she failed. Me, I was sort of the opposite. Completely positive it wasn't going to work, until the final moment of surprising success. I knew that Kia was already convinced we should try out for the team, and that I was probably fighting a losing battle at this point. I just didn't know. This wasn't just the big kids at our school, but the big kids at
other
schools.

“So you two not wanting to try out for the team has nothing to do with being afraid of not making the team?” Mom questioned.

“Of course not!” Kia exclaimed.

“No, that isn't it,” I agreed.

“Then what is it?” Mom asked.

“It's just… just that if we make the team we'll be playing against other schools,” I said.

“That is the idea behind a school team,” she said.

“It's just that we saw a couple of those other teams when they played against our school last year,” I explained.

“And?”

“It's just… just that they were… big.”

“Really big,” Kia agreed.

I was glad that she at least agreed with that.

“Bigger than the kids in your school?”

I tried to picture anybody being bigger than Kingsley, or Roy, who were about the biggest kids in our school.

“I think they were bigger,” Kia said.

“Or maybe they just
seemed
bigger because you two were smaller. You were only in grade two last year when you were watching those games. Now you're bigger… grade three bigger.”

“Well, we are bigger than last year,” I admitted. “Although a lot smaller than the grade fives in our school, and probably every other school too.”

“But size doesn't mean everything,” my mother said.

“Mom, this is basketball, not chess. If I was seven feet tall, this wouldn't be a problem.”

“Well, being smaller than the kids at our school didn't stop us from winning the three-on-three tournament,” Kia added, agreeing with my mother.

Great, now there were two of them arguing on the other side.

“So are you two going to try out for the
team or not?” Mom asked.

I looked at Kia. Of course, I already knew what she was thinking.

“It looks like we're going to try,” I said.

My mother flashed us a smile and then started to laugh.

“What's so funny?” I asked.

“I just thought that this is the strangest conversation I think we've ever had. With all the basketball you play, at school, on the driveway and on the rep team, here I am trying to convince the two of you that you need to try to play
more
basketball.”

“That is a bit strange,” I admitted. She was always telling me that I played too much b-ball.

“Maybe I should hope that you two don't make the team,” she said.

“Mom!”

“I'm just kidding. Beside, there are lots of worse things in life than not making a team.”

I nodded my head in agreement. I knew of one thing that was worse. Making the team and getting killed by one of the other teams, and I didn't mean just on the scoreboard.

Kia's father dropped us off at the curb in front of the school. Kia waved as he drove off. I looked at my watch. It was ten minutes to eight. I had never been to the school this early and it seemed strange. There were only a couple of cars in the normally full parking lot. I recognized one. It belonged to our principal, Ms. Grieve. I wasn't surprised it was there. I think she practically lived at the school.

And of course it wasn't just the parking lot that was empty. There was nobody in the playground, or on the street walking toward the school.

“Tryouts did start this morning… right?” I asked.

“Of course, they're on today… I'm pretty sure.”

We walked up to the front doors. I tried to pull one open. It wouldn't budge. It was locked. Kia grabbed the other door. She repeatedly pulled at it, and the door bumped and rocked slightly, but it wouldn't open. It was locked as well.

“What time does the school normally open?” Kia asked.

“I don't know. I just know it's always open by the time I get here. What are we going to do?”

“Maybe we should try another door,” Kia suggested. “How about the one closest to the gym?”

That made sense. Besides we certainly had time to kill. We cut across the grass and passed by our principal's office. I glanced through the window. I could see her sitting at her desk, working. Just as we got to the corner of the building I thought I heard voices. We hurried around, arriving just in time to see the door by the gym close.

“Come on,” I said as we sprinted for the
door.

Kia got there a split second before me and pulled the door open. Instantly we could hear the sounds of people talking and balls bouncing. We followed the noise down the hall and into the gym. The place was filled with kids!

“It looks like every kid in grade five is here,” I said quietly to Kia.

“But nobody from grade three, or even grade four,” she answered. “There must be twenty kids here.”

“Nineteen including you and me.”

“You counted?”

“It's one of my skills,” I said.

The door opened behind us and three more kids — grade five kids — entered the gym.

“Twenty, twenty-one and twenty-two,” Kia said. “I've mastered that counting stuff too. And have you noticed how many of them are girls?”

“Girls?”

“As in not boys,” Kia said sarcastically.

“Well, none… except for you, of course. Were you expecting one of the other girls to be here?”

“It would have been nice,” she said.

“Who did you think would try out?”

She didn't answer right away and then shrugged. “I guess I didn't really expect anybody. It's just that it's strange to always be the only girl all the time.”

“It would be a little different,” I agreed.

“A little different? What would it be like if you were the only guy in the gym and everybody else was a girl?”

“Now that would be strange,” I admitted. “But wouldn't that be even stranger for you?”

Kia chuckled to herself. “Probably. Let's get ready.”

We walked to the front of the gym, moving around kids and watching as we walked. Nobody seemed to even notice us. We climbed up onto the edge of the stage, took a seat and started to put on our basketball shoes.

“Can you believe some of the people who are trying out?” Kia asked.

“There are some surprises,” I admitted. We'd played against most of these kids in the three-on-three contest, or at least seen them play. Some of them were not what I'd call ‘quality' players.

“There's Marcus,” Kia said, pointing to the far corner.

He was bouncing a ball, standing and talking to a group of kids that included Kingsley and Deanand Roy. Great, Roy trying out too. Though I didn't really know him — ‘cause he was in grade five — Roy was not my favorite guy. He had been part of the team that we'd beaten in the finals and had been pretty dirty and nasty — and not just in our games.

“I see your old buddy is here,” Kia said, reading my mind.

“Roy doesn't like you any better than he likes me.”

“I don't think Roy likes even his own mother,” Kia said, “but it wasn't me who made him look like a fool in front of half the school during the final game of the tournament.”

“I didn't make him look… at least I didn't
mean
to make him look bad,” I said.

“What you meant and what you did are two different things, but I'm sure Roy will be just as forgiving as he is nice.”

“But he's not nice at…” I let the sentence trail off, because of course Kia was saying that
he probably would hold a grudge.

“And maybe we can all become teammates and good friends,” she continued. “And then you can invite Roy to come back to your house after the games for milk and —”

A shrill whistle blast interrupted Kia's comments. It was Mr. Roberts, standing at the gym door, a ball under one arm, a whistle in his other hand. Most kids had stopped talking and turned to face him. A couple were still bouncing their balls.