Real Hoops (6 page)

T
he L7 bus was almost empty. Ben sat near the back and fiddled with the handle of his saxophone case as he tried to think of how to convince Hud not to quit the team. He gazed out the window as the bus rumbled downtown. The streetlights cast an eerie glow on the passing sidewalks.

Ben wished he hadn’t lied to his parents and told them he was practicing music at Logan’s house. But he didn’t see any other way. He couldn’t tell them he was going to Westwood—at night—to talk to Hud. They would have told him to let Coach George handle it.

But Ben was the Raiders’ captain. It was his job to try to talk to Hud … again.

“Eighth and Westwood,” the driver announced.

Ben swung his saxophone case around the bus pole and stepped off the bus. He slipped the case over his shoulder and zipped his coat. Then he plunged his hands into his pockets and walked quickly, head down, to the Center.

Inside, the Center was warm. Ben began to sweat. Maybe it was the heat. Or maybe it was because he was nervous. He loosened his jacket and followed the sounds of a basketball game in progress. Looking down through the Plexiglas window, Ben spotted Hud. He was dribbling toward the basket, looking free and happy. Donut, Hi-Tops, and 44-Long were there, too, with a bunch of other players.

For a long time, Ben stood there, watching.

“You’re a little late for band practice,” said a voice behind him.

Ben turned and saw Mr. Sims. The director nodded toward the saxophone case.

“We, uh, had an extra practice after school tonight,” Ben said.

Mr. Sims raised a questioning eyebrow. “What are you
really
doing here on your own, at this hour?”

“I was looking for Hud.”

“Well, you found him,” Mr. Sims said. “He’s here most nights.”

“He’s not supposed to be,” Ben said in a small voice. “It’s against the team rules.”

Mr. Sims smiled. “I figured that might be the case,” he said. “But Coach George runs his team his way. I run Westwood my way. It’s tough to stop a kid from playing ball, especially one who loves the game as much as Hud.”

Mr. Sims and Ben looked back down at the game, just as Hud pushed out a long bounce pass that skipped ahead of his teammate and out of bounds. “So, what’s going on?” Mr. Sims asked.

A sudden wave of sadness swept over Ben. He almost felt like crying. “I think Hud’s going to quit the team,” he said finally.

“Now why would he want to do a crazy thing like that?”

“I guess Coach wasn’t playing Hud as much as Hud thought he should,” Ben said. “And he’s real tired of all the drills and stuff.”

“Mr. George is a good coach. A real good coach,” Mr. Sims said. He paused a moment and added with a chuckle, “Of course, he can be pretty stubborn. Sometimes, it’s his way or the highway.”

“Hud’s
got
to come back,” Ben blurted out. “The team really needs him.”

Mr. Sims nodded. “Yeah, he should probably go back. But maybe not for the reason you think.”

“What do you mean?”

Mr. Sims looked at Ben as if he was sizing him up. “You want Hud to play because he’s a good passer,” he said. “And sure, Hud can get you and Logan the ball where you guys can score—”

“Well, yeah, but—” Ben began.

“You guys want to win,” Mr. Sims went on. “Right?”

“Sure,” Ben said.

“Nothing wrong with winning.” Mr. Sims looked down on the court as Hud hit Donut with a perfect behind-the-back pass. “But I want Hud to be the best player he can be.”

Ben didn’t say anything. He could tell that Mr. Sims was just warming up.

“You see those guys down there?” Mr. Sims said, pointing to the court. “Donut could shoot the eyes out of the basket when he was your age. But he never played on a school team past eighth grade. And Hi-Tops? He led his high school team in rebounds as a sophomore. Never played again after that.”

“Why not?”

“Said he didn’t like the coach.” Mr. Sims shook his head. “Those two had a chance to get some real coaching—improve their game. Who knows, they might have even had the chance to play ball after high school.”

“But Donut and all those guys still played summer ball, right?” Ben said. “And they still play here.”

Mr. Sims nodded. “Yeah. But here’s the thing: summer ball and playing here are okay for practice, for trying to get better. That’s why I let Hud play so much here.” He paused. “But pickup shouldn’t be the only ball you play. At some point, you need to test yourself in a real game. Roosevelt has coaches, referees … even people who pay money to see the games.”

Mr. Sims continued to stare down at the game. “Believe me,” he added softly, “the playgrounds and rec centers are full of guys who could have been great.” He crossed his arms. “When I lived back in New York City, I played summer ball on the playgrounds with guys folks still talk about.”

“Really? Like who?” Ben asked.

“Well, The Goat, for one.”

“Who?”

“Earl Manigault,” Mr. Sims explained. “They called him ‘The Goat.’ Man—that guy could jump. He was famous for his ‘Double Dunk.’ He would leap up, dunk a ball, catch it, and dunk it again before he came back down.”

“Cool,” Ben said.

“And score?” Mr. Sims went on. “Nobody could stop The Goat. I saw him rack up sixty points one night in the Rucker League.”

“What’s the Rucker League?”

“That’s the big summer league in New York City,” Mr. Sims explained. “All the best players played in the Rucker League.”

“Did The Goat ever play in college or the pros?” Ben asked.

Mr. Sims shook his head. “That’s the thing,” he said. “He played with Kareem Abdul Jabbar, Earl ‘The Pearl’ Monroe, Connie Hawkins, and all the great New York players during the summer.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but he never went up against those guys in the big games when they were playing their hardest. In pickup ball, everyone remembers the dunks and points,” Mr. Sims went on. “But they forget the turnovers or the times when the guy you’re supposed to be covering scores.”

“Coach George is always getting after Hud for turnovers and defense,” Ben said.

“That’s right. Coaches remember those things.”

Ben suddenly had an idea. “Mr. Sims, could
you
talk to Hud?” he asked. “I tried to do it because I’m the team captain, but he wouldn’t listen to me. Maybe he’ll listen to you. I mean, maybe you could tell him about The Goat, and how he never really tested himself in real games.”

Mr. Sims looked down at the game again. Donut hit a jump shot and jogged downcourt, talking and laughing. “I’ll try, but I don’t know how much good it’ll do,” he said, sounding a little tired. “I’ve talked to just about every one of those guys down there.”

He turned back to Ben. “When’s your next game?”

“Tomorrow at home, against Wilson.”

“Wilson? They’re always tough. I’ll talk to him tonight,” Mr. Sims said. “But I can’t promise you he’ll listen.” He checked his watch. “You’d better get going, young man. The next L7 is heading back your way in a few minutes. There probably won’t be another one for at least an hour.”

“Thanks, Mr. Sims.” Ben grabbed his saxophone case and headed for the bus stop. Maybe, just maybe, Mr. Sims could pull off a big win for the Raiders by convincing Hud to come back.

T
he red numbers of the clock on the locker room wall changed again.

Ben pulled the laces of his high-top basketball shoes tighter. “Did you see Hud today?” he asked Logan in a low voice.

“Just between classes, in the hall,” his friend answered.

“Did he say anything to you? You know, about staying on the team?”

Logan shook his head. “No,” he said. “I’ll bet he’s on his way to Westwood right now.”

Ben sighed. “Coach is going to be here at
three o’clock. And if Hud isn’t….” He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to.

Just then, Hud burst into the locker room and swung his backpack into a metal locker with a loud bang. He started tearing off his school clothes like they were on fire.

Ben couldn’t believe it. Hud was back! “Hey, I didn’t think you were going to show up,” Ben said. “The game’s about to start.”

“Hey, I got a couple minutes to spare.” Hud grinned as he pulled on his Raiders uniform.

Coach George walked in as Hud was lacing up his basketball shoes. “Listen up, everybody,” he said. “Big game today. We’ve got to play well. Wilson is 5–0, too.” He pulled over a large whiteboard from the corner of the room. “We’ll start Logan, Jordan, Andrew, Ben, and Levon, but let’s push our defense out and try to pick them up closer to the half-court line.”

He sketched the new defense plan on the whiteboard as he talked.

“Let’s put some pressure on them. Force Wilson to make some bad passes.” Coach looked around the circle of players. “Don’t worry about getting tired. I’m going to use lots of substitutions today. Just play hard every minute that you’re in the game. Okay, let’s go.”

The team jogged up the stairs to the gym. Ben fell into step with Hud.

“Glad you made it,” he said. “Maybe we can win today.”

“Yeah,” Hud said. “We better.”

During warm-ups, Logan asked Ben, “Hey, do you think Hud is okay?”

“Yeah,” Ben said. “He’ll be fine.”

The Wilson Warriors jumped to a quick lead in the first quarter. The Raiders kept up the defensive pressure and hung close. Coach George kept his promise about shuttling players in and out of the game.

When Hud came in, he wasted no time setting up Ben in his favorite jump-shot spots. Slowly, the Raiders started gaining on Wilson. Then Hud slipped a perfect bounce pass to Logan, who spun to the hoop and laid it in. The Raiders had cut the Warriors’ lead to two points, 17–15!

Hud was on top of his game and Coach George stuck with him for most of the second quarter. The teams traded baskets as the Warriors clung to a two-point lead, 29–27.

With a minute to go in the half, Logan snatched a rebound off the glass backboard and snapped a pass to Hud. The ball had barely touched Hud’s hands before he flung it to Ben who was sprinting downcourt.

Ben caught the ball in full stride and dribbled to the basket for an easy layup to tie the game. He pointed a finger at Hud as he raced back on defense. “Nice pass,” he said as they slapped hands.

“Pressure defense!” Coach George shouted, holding both hands in the air.

Hud snapped into action. Staying low and moving his feet in short, quick steps, he darted in front of the Warriors point guard. The point guard dribbled right into Hud and the two of them collided.

Tweeeeeet!

The referee put his left hand behind his head and pointed at the Warrior player. “Offensive foul,” he called. “Charging on Number Twelve.”

“Time out!” Coach George called. He grabbed his clipboard as the team, pumped up by Hud’s play, gathered around. “Good defense, Hud,” he said.

Hud nodded.

Coach George looked at the game clock. Twelve seconds to go in the half and the score was tied. Quickly, he drew up a play on his clipboard.

“Let’s take a chance and try to get Ben open for a three-pointer. Andrew, get the
ball inbound to Hudson.” He lifted his marker and pointed it at Hud. “I want you to try to drive down the middle and draw the defense to you. Ben, which wing do you like to shoot from?”

Ben looked up from the huddle. “Left,” he said.

“Hudson, look for Ben on the left, behind the three-point line. Ben, put it right up. Don’t hesitate. Let’s go.”

Hud ran the play just as Coach George had drawn it. He grabbed the inbound pass and drove down the middle of the Warriors defense. As the defenders moved to surround him, he flipped a no-look pass to Ben, on the left wing, one step behind the three-point line.

Ben didn’t hesitate. He pushed a one-hand jump shot high into the air. The ball bounced up off the rim, hit the backboard, and fell through the hoop just as the buzzer sounded. The first half was over. The Raiders led by three, 32–29!

Coach George didn’t start Hud in the second half. But a few minutes later, as soon as
Hud did enter the game, the Roosevelt offense really clicked: passing, fast-breaking, shooting, playing pressure defense. The Raiders’ lead grew steadily through the second half. Finally, they were ahead by fifteen points.

People in the stands counted down the final seconds.

“Ten … nine … eight …”

With a sly smile, Hud dribbled down the right side of the court. Sam Molina, Roosevelt’s backup center, hustled downcourt on the left.

“… seven … six … five … four …”

Hud zipped a long, behind-the-back pass that hit Sam in stride. Sam laid the ball in the basket just as the buzzer sounded.

The crowd went wild and the Raiders bench was on its feet.

“What a pass!”

“Great look, Hud!”

“All right, Raiders!”

The team was still cheering and smacking high-fives in the locker room when Coach George held his hands up for silence.
The Raiders settled down, a bit slower than usual. “That’s the best half of basketball we’ve played all season,” Coach George announced. The locker room filled with cheers again. “And it’s a great way to head into the holiday break … undefeated!”

The team took up the chant. “Undefeated … undefeated … undefeated!”

Coach George raised his hands again. “Listen up,” he said. “Our next practice will be a week from Monday, after the break. So you guys have a few days off.”

More cheers. “But remember,” the coach went on, “I still expect you to follow team rules over the break. Except one.” He paused and looked around the room. Ben could have sworn he looked at Hud a little bit longer than any of the other players. “If you want to play pickup hoops at Westwood or anyplace else over the holidays, that’s okay with me. Just be careful.”

Ben and Hud shared a quick fist bump.

“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” Hud said.

“Yeah.” Ben grinned. “At Westwood.”