In the Paint (15 page)

By the time a widely smiling Phil emerged from the pile, his uniform and his black hair were uncharacteristically askew. Matt had avoided the pile because of his injured hand, but he rushed up to his friend. “Phil it up! Phil it up!” he yelled, barely able to contain himself. “You are so clutch!”

The two teams lined up at center court to shake hands, Matt extending his uninjured left to each of the Nuggets. When he met John Trimble near the end of the line, the North Vale star stopped him. “Sorry about the foul,” Trimble said earnestly. “I don't care what Jackson says, you can play. You were killing me before you got hurt. Nice game.”

The praise meant a lot to Matt as he headed for the locker room. In the excitement, he had almost forgotten about his hand. The satisfied feeling he got when he saw Dave Tanner and Pete Winters celebrating a city title in their last year of middle school was more than enough to dull the pain. And the joy on Phil's face, the hero in the locker room who was busy answering questions from a
Post
reporter, made everything, including the hand, seem okay.

Matt looked around the room at his closest buddies — Jake, Amar and Phil. They had all come so far and had made such huge improvements since the start of this year. Matt remembered back to September and how they had each just hoped to make the team. Only a few months ago, Jake and Phil had walked slowly out of this very gym, crushed at not making the varsity. Now all four of them were city champions, and they were already making their mark on the proud tradition of South Side basketball. Best of all, they were doing it together, just like always.

Suddenly, all the adjustments to middle school, the problems with Grant Jackson, the troubles at Wong's Grocery, the suspension and the injury faded to the background. The bass was pounding out of Dave Tanner's stereo system and even Coach Stephens couldn't help boogying a little as he made his way from stall to stall to high five each of his players. Matt stared down at his right hand, wondering if it was broken or just badly bruised again. Right at this moment, he had to admit, it didn't really seem to matter.

Jeff Rud
has worked as a journalist for the Victoria
Times Colonist
for the past twenty years. He currently covers provincial politics for the newspaper, working out of the British Columbia legislature. This is Rud's fourth book and first fiction effort. The 44-year-old lives in Victoria with his wife Lana, a middle school teacher, and their two young children. His favorite pastime is playing pick up basketball.