Road Trip (8 page)

She nodded. “I thought they'd be shorter.”

“Everybody's big here. Everybody.”

“And,” the announcer continued, “since we have so many teams present, I think it's best to get things rolling. The first step is the introduction of the teams.”

That was important. I was anxious to know which teams we'd be competing against in the first round. Then again, what did it matter? It wasn't like there were going to be any soft spots.

“We'll begin with the Condors, from Cleveland, Ohio! Let's give them a nice round of applause to welcome them up here!”

One of the teams from a table near the back of the room all rose to their feet and started to walk toward the front of the banquet hall as people clapped.

“What are they doing?” I asked.

“Coming up to the podium to be introduced,” Coach replied.

“You're joking… right?” I asked.

He shook his head. “The coach will introduce the players and say a few words.”

“Are we going to do that?”

“
Every
team does.”

“But there are forty teams here; that could take hours!” Kia said.

“If things go well, it'll only take about two and half hours,” Coach said.

The team from Cleveland all gathered together on the little stage behind the microphone. They looked as uncomfortable as I thought I would. What could be worse than being dressed like a goof in front of hundreds of strangers? Then again, it was better to be dressed this way in front of strangers than people you knew – people that could make fun of you later.

Their coach shook hands with Mr. Riley and then stepped up to the microphone.

“Greetings from the great state of Ohio,” he began. “I'm proud to introduce my team, most of whom were on my team last year when we won the state championship for our age!”

Great… just great. I looked over at Kia to say something, but she was staring up at the stage. She didn't look as impressed as I felt.

The coach went on to introduce his players, one by one. They looked like players… nothing really special, but they looked like ball players. But then again, what had I been expecting?

“Let's give them all another round of applause,” Mayor Riley said. We clapped as the team left the stage and started back to their table.

“I'd now like to introduce the next team. Let's
give a big round of applause for the Suns from Seattle!”

I started clapping my hands together, but not as enthusiastically as for the first team. If I had to do this for forty teams, my hands would be worn out before the tournament even began.

“Only thirty-nine to go,” Kia said.

“Including us,” I added.

“Do we know when we're going to be called?” L.B. asked his father.

“They don't tell the teams. About the only thing I know is that we won't be last.”

“There's a
chance
we could be last,” L.B. said.

Coach shook his head. “The New York team will be last because they're technically the defending champions.”

The second team had reached the podium and their coach began to speak.

Kia leaned close. “Wake me when it's our turn,” she said.

“I was going to say the same thing,” I whispered back.

“How many teams are left to introduce?” Tristan asked as we clapped our hands for yet another team leaving the podium.

“Three left,” my father said.

“Are you sure?” Tristan asked.

“I'm sure… believe me… I've been counting.”

“Then we could be next,” Kia said.

“We could have been next every time,” I said. “Either way, we're not going to be much longer.”

I looked at my watch. It was coming up to nine-thirty. We'd been sitting here for almost two and a half hours.

I'd tried my best to pay attention as team after team walked forward, was introduced and left, but I couldn't help but drift off. I even started to think about the possibility of sinking further and further down in my seat until I could maybe slide under the table. From there I could crawl from table to table and maybe make a break for the door. This was like sitting in school listening to a really, really bad teacher just go on and on about something stupid. The only thing that had kept me awake at all was the meal they brought us halfway through the introductions. The food had been good. I hoped we still wouldn't be sitting here when breakfast time rolled around.

“And next up is our team from Osaka, Japan. Let's give them a big welcome to our country!” the mayor announced.

We did our best to cheer them on. I'd never clapped so much in my life and been entertained so little. The team filed up to the front. Other groups had come in clumps or slunk or strutted
as they came up to the podium. This group seemed to be almost marching. And since they had on identical warm-up suits, headbands and sneakers – very expensive sneakers – they looked like they were a little army all decked out in their uniforms.

Their coach came to the podium. He bowed his head slightly and then began.

“Excuse English… still learning. We are honored to be here. My team is still much to learn about English and basketball and hope you will teach us much. Thank you,” he said, and bowed again.

There was the usual ripple of polite applause and he began to introduce the members of his team. Each in turn took a step forward, bowed his head when called out and then returned to his place in the line.

“They certainly are polite,” Kia said.

“And disciplined and well coached,” Coach said.

“How can you tell that?” I questioned.

“Just look at them,” he said. “The way they walk, the way they present themselves.”

I watched as they began to leave the stage. It was all done with the same precision that had brought them up to the podium. I guess I could understand what he was saying.

“We are now down to our last two teams,” the master of ceremonies announced, and a cheer rose
from the crowd — the first real cheering that had happened for the past hour.

“Could the Magic of Mississauga, led by former college star and NBA player Len Barkley, please come on up!” he called out.

We all pushed out our chairs and got up. Maybe it was my imagination, but there seemed to be more cheering than there had been for a long time. I wondered if everybody was clapping because they were so grateful that we were finally close to the end, then remembered about Coach playing his college ball around here.

I took a step forward and felt myself stumble slightly. We'd been sitting so long one of my legs was partially asleep. I couldn't help but think that we certainly weren't walking up with the precision of the team from Japan.

I looked up to the table on the podium. All the men seated up at the front were cheering wildly, and three of them were on their feet applauding. This certainly wasn't the way they'd greeted the other teams. As we climbed up the steps to reach the stage, the men who were standing rushed over and shook Coach's hand. The mayor pumped his hand like he was hoping to get his vote in the next election. Coach went over to the podium.

“Thank you all for your warm greetings,” Coach said. “I'm thrilled to be here today with my team.
As the mayor mentioned, I played some college ball and even had the privilege of playing in the NBA for a short while. But the memories that are most dear to me are those from when I was first starting out… playing ball with my teammates and coming to tournaments just like this. Now I'd like to introduce the members of my team.”

I stood there feeling anxious and awkward as he called out each name, starting from the far end. I was going to be second last and Kia, who was standing beside me, was at the end. Finally he called out my name and I took a step forward – the way I'd seen close to four hundred other kids do before me.

“And finally I'd like to introduce my last player,” Coach said. “Kia… she plays guard and small forward.”

Kia stepped forward and it was like the entire room gasped. Standing up there in her flowery dress, there wasn't much doubt that she was a girl – the only girl in the whole tournament.

“Thank you all,” Coach said.

We stepped off the stage and started back to our seats while people applauded for the second to last time. It was loud and I knew that it was aimed more at Coach than it was at us.

“And thank you, Coach Barkley, for introducing your team… certainly your team is different in at least one way from the other teams,” Mayor
Riley said. “I'd now like to introduce the fortieth and final team. From New York City, the four-time defending champions, the Wild Cats, led by their coach Jeff Barton!”

The team got up and started to the front. They walked up to the stage with that same sort of strut that had brought them into the banquet hall in the first place. It was also obvious that the applause for them wasn't nearly as loud as the cheering had been for us. I guess one former NBA player and college hero was worth more than the four-time defending champions.

The Wild Cat coach walked up to the podium as his team — all still wearing their sunglasses — took their places on the podium.

He began to speak. “It's not every day that I get to speak after a genuine
celebrity
.”

There was something about the way he said celebrity that caused the hair on the back of my neck to stand up on end. I looked over at Coach. He had a smile frozen on his face.

“I'm very glad to be back here again,” the Wild Cat coach continued. “This is my seventh time that I've brought a team to this tournament. As you all know, the last four times we left with the championship. Twice before that my team left with a second- and a third- place finish,” the coach said. “Now, I may not have ever been a star in college or played in the NBA,” he said, and then paused.
“But
I
know how to coach.”

That was obviously a shot aimed at Coach, and everybody in the whole place must have known that. It was like saying that just because he could play the game it didn't mean that he could coach the game.

I looked over at Coach. His face was still locked up with that same expression, although it seemed that the smile was just a little bit too tight. I'd seen the Coach angry — I'd seen him really, really angry — and this guy was a fool for trying to deliberately get him mad. Even if he didn't really know Coach, he must have known his reputation from when he was a player.

It was way before my time, but I was told that as a player our coach never took any prisoners. People, including my father, said he was probably the most intense player they'd ever seen in the game. My father said that if it weren't for that injury in his last year of college, he would have not only been playing in the NBA for years, but would have been a star.

“And my team knows how to play and how to win,” Coach Barton continued, “and that's what we're here to do. Win!”

I looked up at the big board. The forty teams had been divided into eight pools — five teams to a pool. I anxiously scanned the groupings. I'd been thinking so much about which teams were going to be where that it had invaded my dreams, and when I woke up in the morning it was the first thing that popped into my head. I didn't really know any of the other teams — it wasn't like I'd ever seen anybody else play — but I knew one team I didn't want to be with: the Wild Cats from New York. I scanned the lists, looking for our team and their team. There they were — the Wild Cats — in pool B. And we weren't one of the other four teams in their division.

At least we didn't have to face them in the first
round. Maybe we wouldn't have to face them at all. Maybe they wouldn't get through the first round. Just because they were the four-time defending champions, and they'd already won every tournament they'd been in this year, and they were from New York, and they had really, really, cool sunglasses, didn't mean that they were any good… Who was I kidding?

It was a lot more likely that we wouldn't be facing them because we weren't going any further than the first round. I tried to put that thought out of my head. We were a good team. We were. I just knew, though, that if we kept winning we'd eventually meet them. One way or another, the team that wanted to be the champions of this tournament would have to go straight through the Wild Cats.

“There we are!” Kia called out. “Pool E.”

I moved over beside her and joined other members of our team looking up at the board.

“Do you recognize any of the teams?” I asked.

“How would I know any of them?” she asked. “I meant from the reception. Any teams that you can remember seeing last night?”

“Um… no… I don't think so… wait,” she said, tapping the board. “Is that the team from France?”

“Unless there's another Paris somewhere else in
the world it has to be them,” Tristan said.

“We should be able to beat a team from France,” L.B. said.

“Do they even play basketball in France?” David asked.

“They have to or they wouldn't be here,” Kia said.

“I know that, but I mean I thought they only played soccer or stuff like that,” he said.

“You mean the way that people in Canada only play hockey?” I suggested.

“I guess you're right,” David admitted.

“And I figure we'll find out if they can play basketball pretty soon,” L.B. said. “They're our opponents in the first game.”

“How long before we play?” I asked.

“About two hours. Everybody's first game is at noon,” Kia said. “Every team plays at the same time to start the tournament. That means there are twenty games in twenty gyms.”

“That must be every gym in town,” Jamie said.

“Every one of them,” Coach Barkley said as he and my father came up behind us. “Every school, the community college and the recreation center.