Technical Foul (4 page)

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Authors: Rich Wallace

Tags: #Ages 8 & Up

BOOK: Technical Foul
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Game time came quickly. The Palisades center out-jumped Jared for the opening tap, and their point guard nailed a quick three-pointer that brought the crowd to its feet. This wouldn’t be easy.
Jared took the ball and tossed it in to Spencer.
“It’s coming to you,” Spencer said. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Spencer dribbled across midcourt and up to the top of the key. He passed off to Willie Shaw, but demanded the ball right back. Jared was near the basket, hounded by the Palisades center, who was at least two inches taller, and more muscular as well.
Spencer drove into the lane, then flicked a bounce pass in to Jared. Jared pumped, making a move toward the basket. His opponent lunged hard to that side, and Jared deftly pivoted as the defender lost his balance. With a wide-open path now, Jared took one dribble and leaped toward the basket, laying the ball off the backboard and into the hoop.
The Hornets hustled back on defense. Fiorelli and Spencer stuck close to the guards, having already seen the evidence of their long-range shooting skills. The point guard fired up another three-pointer anyway, but it struck the rim and bounded away. Jared grabbed it and fired an outlet pass to Spencer.
“Gotta move!” Spencer yelled to Jared as he took off, dribbling at full speed. Jared ran straight up the court as well, easily leaving his defender behind. As Jared reached the free-throw line, Spencer hit him with a dead-on bounce pass that Jared gathered in without breaking stride. He took one easy dribble and found the hoop for another layup. Hudson City had the lead.
“Beautiful,” Spencer said as they ran back. “All day, Jared. We can make that play all day.”
A groan came from the crowd and Jared turned back toward the basket. Fiorelli was trotting up the court with his fist in the air, shouting, “Yeah!” The scoreboard turned from 4–3 to 6–3. Fiorelli must have stolen the ball and scored.
Palisades quickly signaled for a time-out. Spencer patted Jared on the back and they ran to the sideline.
“What did you do?” Jared asked Fiorelli.
“Snuck in there on the in-bounds pass,” Fiorelli said with a bigger grin than usual. “The guy wasn’t even looking. Easy steal.”
“Way to go.”
Palisades took better care of the ball after that, and the score stayed close throughout the first half. Jared scored twice more on fast breaks, but the other Palisades players made up for their center’s slowness and hurried back after missed shots. Their guards also kept shooting from outside, and many of those shots hit the target. By halftime, Hudson City led, 25–23, and Jared had scored ten points.
“We’re wearing them down,” Coach Davis said in the locker room. “We need to keep running, right, Spence?”
Spencer nodded. “Look for the fast break off every defensive rebound we get,” he said. “Jared—keep hustling. We’re getting five-on-four or five-on-three breaks every time we run; that center can’t get down the court fast enough. Sooner or later they’re all gonna fold.”
“That’s right,” said Coach. “They’re already tired. We’ve got to take advantage of that.”
The halftime break let Palisades get some rest, and they kept the game close early in the third quarter. But then Fiorelli hit a wide-open three-pointer from the corner, and the Palisades point guard tried to answer in a hurry.
The shot looked good, but it struck the back of the rim and bounded high into the air. Jared grabbed it as it came down, found Spencer for the outlet pass, and sprinted up the court. Just as before, Spencer made a soft little bounce pass to the wide-open Jared, and Jared laid it off the backboard and in.
“Press!” shouted Spencer, seeing a chance to capitalize. The Hudson City players converged on their opponents, guarding them tightly as Jared hounded the man with the ball, who was desperately trying to find someone to pass to. He tried to throw it high and long, but Jared deflected the ball and it popped into the air in front of the basket. Willie Shaw raced in and caught it on the run, taking one dribble and scoring.
Suddenly Hudson City led by nine. Palisades called time-out. The Hornets trotted triumphantly to their bench.
“They’re dead meat now,” Spencer said in the huddle. “We’re gonna run ’em right out of their own fancy gym.”
“No letting up,” Jared said fiercely. “No way they get back in this game. This is
our
season. This is where it starts. Let’s finish these guys off and move on to the next one.”
Palisades brought in a substitute for their center. He was shorter but much quicker. It made little difference; Jared dominated the boards and Hudson City continued to run. By the time Jared came out of the game with less than two minutes to play, he’d scored a game-high 27 points. Hudson City was ahead by fourteen.
 
Jared was about to step out of the locker room into the narrow hallway that led to the exit. He hesitated when he heard his name, and eavesdropped on Ryan and Fiorelli, who were talking out in the hall.
“Coach must have said something to Spence and Jared,” Ryan was saying. “Ever since that fight on the court, they’ve been like best buddies.”
“It wasn’t Coach. They settled it themselves,” Fiorelli said. “I was there. They’re outside after the Emerson game and Spence was like, ‘You smack me on the court and you think I’m gonna just let that slide?’ And Jared’s like, ‘It was justified, dude.’ And Spence says, ‘Yeah, well we can settle this thing at the tennis courts tonight, man, and then we’ll see.’ And Jared is going, ‘Anytime, pal, anytime.’ And then they just stared each other down. You could see the steam coming out of their ears. But then they just backed away, real slow, and since then there’s been a kind of truce. I don’t know if it’ll last though. It better.”
“Whatever happened, it worked,” Ryan said. “We’re looking good right now.”
Jared pushed open the door and grinned at his teammates. “What are you guys jamming about?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Fiorelli said. “Just saying that if we can keep you and Spencer from clobbering each other, we should be okay.”
“More than okay,” Jared said. “We’re over the hump now. We’ll cruise from here.”
“Don’t get overconfident,” Fiorelli said. “Just keep it up. One game at a time, man.”
“You said it.”
8
Team Chemistry
J
ared was shooting baskets in the driveway on Saturday afternoon, dodging a few frozen puddles. He’d definitely found his touch, scoring 24 points the day before in a big win over South Bergen. That was the team that had pounded Hudson City in the season opener, and this victory was a sure sign that things had turned around. They had five more regular-season games, three of them against teams they’d lost to earlier. At 3–4, they couldn’t afford many more losses if they hoped to make the playoffs.
Jared dribbled in place away from the basket, up near the back door of the house. He took a quick step and a dribble left, then drove hard to his right and went in for a layup.
“Check out that move!” came a yell from the sidewalk.
Jared looked up to find Fiorelli and Spencer walking his way, grinning. “Let’s see that ball,” said Spencer, holding out his hands.
Jared sent an overhand pass in Spencer’s direction. Spence grabbed it, made a quick dribble between his legs, and sent a long shot toward the basket. The ball rolled around the rim and fell out.
“What are you guys doing on this side of town?” Jared asked.
“Just slumming,” Fiorelli said. “See how the other half lives.”
“Oh yeah,” Jared said, rolling his eyes. “Over here on Society Hill.”
“We just thought we’d see what you were up to,” Spencer said, tossing the ball back to Jared. “Make sure you weren’t getting into trouble.”
“Just working out,” Jared said.
“You never stop, huh?”
“Not much. It pays off.”
“I hear you,” Spencer said.
Jared didn’t get many visitors. He wasn’t a total loner, but he never minded keeping his own company. Spencer and Fiorelli lived across town and had never been to Jared’s house.
“So, you up for hanging out a bit?” Fiorelli said.
“Sure. Where to?”
“I don’t know,” Fiorelli said. “You got any money?”
“Some.”
“Could hit one of the pizza places on the Boulevard or something,” Spencer said. “They got video games at Villa Roma.”
“Sounds good to me. Come on in for a minute.”
They entered the house. Jared’s mom was at the computer in the family room.
“Company,” Jared called.
“Who’s that?” Mom answered.
“Guys from the team,” Jared said. “We’re going to Villa Roma. Okay?”
“Of course,” she said, entering the kitchen. She smiled when she saw Fiorelli and Spencer. “Hi Jason. Spencer,” she said. “I hear you guys are playing some great basketball.”
“Yeah, finally,” Spencer said. “We finally got the chemistry going.”
“Yeah,” Mom said. She smiled and flicked up her eyebrows. “I heard there were some problems.”
Spencer looked down and gave an embarrassed grin. “We worked it out.” He looked up and rolled his eyes. “Peacefully.”
“I’m glad,” she said. She grabbed her purse from the counter and took out some bills. “Let me treat. Pizza and wings, huh? I guess I don’t have to worry about making supper.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Jared said. “I’ll be back whenever.”
“Take your time. Have fun, Jared. . . . With your friends.”
 
Villa Roma was the most kid-friendly pizza place in town, with two large TV screens—one showing music videos and the other always tuned to a sports network. One wall was lined with pinball and video games, and soda refills were free.
Two players from the high school varsity team were sitting at a table near the entrance as Jared, Spencer, and Fiorelli walked in. One of them gave a nod of recognition to the younger guys.
“Hello, men,” Fiorelli said. “Fellow hoopsters.”
The older players laughed. The one that had frizzy red hair and was wearing a letterman’s jacket gave them a thumbs-up. The other guy was staring at the television above the counter, which was showing a college basketball game.
Spencer led the way to the counter and ordered a large pizza and a dozen wings. “And a pitcher of Coke,” Jared added. “Three glasses.”
They moved toward an old Space Invaders game near the back of the restaurant and piled their coats on the floor. Spencer put some quarters in the game. He glanced up toward the front and whispered, “I don’t think I’d be wearing my letterman’s jacket if I was on
that
team. I wouldn’t be advertising.”
Fiorelli laughed. “Their record is even worse than ours. What are they, two and nine or something?”
“Something like that,” Spencer said. “I don’t think they’ve had a winning season in ten years. This just ain’t enough of a basketball town. Not yet.”
Fiorelli nodded. “We’ll change that. Once our man Jared puts some meat on his bones and you grow a few inches taller.” Fiorelli made a shooting motion, tossing an imaginary basketball toward an imaginary hoop. “We’ll be the ones who change things. Just like we’ve turned this season around.”
“Not quite yet,” Jared cautioned. “Like you said, buddy. One game at a time.”
“Yeah,” Spencer said. “We still have a tough road ahead. Palisades won’t let us run like that next time, I guarantee. They’ll come up with some way to slow us down. Next time will be a shoot-out, not a track meet.”
“And they’ve got the big guns,” Fiorelli added.
“We’ve just got to keep our heads together,” Spencer said. “Think about every situation. We might not be big, but we’re smart. We can figure out how to win.”
The guy at the counter called over that their food was ready, so they went to collect it. They took a table a ways from the high school players, who had been joined by two other teenagers.
“You know what game is next, don’t you, Jared?” Spencer asked.
“Yeah. I know.”
“Memorial,” Fiorelli said flatly.
“I said I know.” Jared stopped chewing for a second. Memorial was the game he’d lost almost single-handedly, with his awful fourth-quarter shooting and that missed shot at the final buzzer. He didn’t need reminding.
“Monday,” Spencer said. “You been thinking about it?”
“Yeah,” Jared said. “Thinking. Not worrying. That was a long time ago.”
“Couple of weeks,” Fiorelli said.
“So what? We just beat the two best teams in the league. That’s way in the past.”
“I thought
we
were the best team,” Spencer said.
“You know what I mean,” Jared answered. “They’re in first and second. Memorial’s up there, too. I’m ready.”
“Just making sure,” Spencer said. “We can’t afford any regression.”
“Come on, guys. I’ve been playing great. Is this why you dragged me here? To bust my chops and put pressure on me?”
“No,” Spencer said. “No way. It just came up. Forget it.”
“Yeah, forget it,” Fiorelli said. “You’re right. We gotta look forward, not behind us.”
Jared set down his pizza and nodded. Forward was the only way to go.
9
Get Me the Ball
T
he rematch with Memorial was crucial for Hudson City. Memorial was ahead of them in the standings, and almost certainly headed for the league playoffs. The Hornets had to get a win.
Jared and his teammates were unusually quiet while warming up, concentrating on the game ahead. Jared was nervous. He didn’t want a repeat of the previous game, when he’d turned to ice in the fourth quarter and cost his team the game.
Memorial’s gym was small, and the wooden bleachers—packed with students—came right up to the edge of the court. This wouldn’t be an easy place to play. Already the Memorial fans were playfully taunting the Hudson City players.
“Block it out,” Spencer said in the team huddle before the opening tap. “They can make all the noise they want—the game takes place on the court.”

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