Last Line of Defense

by N. J. Corbo

  He tells you that, even if you are one of his best players, he won’t think twice about benching you if you don’t get your act together. You promise him again that you will, and hustle into the locker room. You’re done thinking about what’s going on at home; you just want to play basketball.

  The next day, you make it to school on time and the game gives you plenty to focus on. It’s the first time the two schools have faced each other since the all-county tournament last season, when the Lions won. The gymnasium will be packed; it always is when the Dragons and Lions compete. You’ll give them a good show, because it’s a pretty fair matchup, and you and your guys are pumped, but it’s going to be a tough one.

  There will be some interesting battles on the floor tonight. You have 12 guys on your team but, even though Coach is usually really good about giving everyone court time, when you play the Lions, the best players don’t really warm the bench too much. You start going over some of the matchups in your head.

  The Lions’ point guard, Skip Davis, doesn’t turn the ball over often, but you’ve got Matty, who’s really improved his speed and decision making. Dan Connors is the Lions’ best all-around player, but he’ll be matched by Ashton, who is by far your most explosive player. Tommy is a mad scorer and can change a game quickly when he gets going, even if Jimmy “The Wall” McCue may get some tough rebounds. Then there’s the offense. They may have a great one, but you’ve got an aggressive defense. Jason Blackwell is their most dangerous shooter, but you’re a choice defender and you pestered Blackwell all season long last year.

  Their defense wasn’t tremendous last season, but a lot can change in a year, and you wonder what you’ll be facing out there. You don’t have to wonder for long though, because it’s time to hit the court.

  The Dragons are ready to do battle. Unfortunately, the Lions are the ones on fire tonight. They’re really guarding that hoop. Their defense swarms you and keeps you back. You just can’t get around them, even though you keep trying.

  The Dragons are a determined bunch though, and by the time the closing seconds creep up, your team is only trailing by two points. Skip Davis, the Lions’ power forward, misses a couple of free throws. Just 10 seconds left on the clock. Now you have a chance.

  Tommy passes to Ashton, working the ball around to the wing. He fakes left and passes to Matt, who moves toward the net but gets blocked by Jimmy McCue, so he passes to you. You take a jump shot, but Dan Connors jumps too and, just as you release the ball, his elbow tags your shoulder – hard. The ball drops through the net. The buzzer sounds. You’re tied.

  That foul hurts in more ways than one. Now you’re in pain and worried about trying to make a shot you can never pull off. You know that you can’t make the free throw overhand, the only way you can hit your free throws consistently is to take them “granny style” by shooting underhand, but you’ve never had the guts to try it in a game because, if you miss, you might never hear the end of it.

  GO TO PAGE 48. Some people will make fun of you, but it’s your best chance of making the shot. You take the free throw underhand.

  GO TO PAGE 9. You’ve never made the shot overhand, but if you miss while taking the granny shot, it would be way too embarrassing. You throw overhand.

  You think you could probably get the ball back, because these guys seem like oafs, but one of them already pushed Jesse and you don’t want him to get hurt.

  “Whatever, man,” you say, and grab your brother. You figure you’ll head to your grandparents’ house and chill out in your tree fort for a bit. They only live around the corner, and maybe the Lindonville guys will get bored once you leave and forget about your ball.

  Pepi barks as you walk past him. He’s a strange little poodle who sits on top of his doghouse, like Snoopy. As you climb the ladder to the tree fort, you can see your Grandma Kay and Papa inside the house.

  The tree fort used to be your favorite place to hang out. You and Jesse practically lived there. Every Sunday, when you went to your grandparents’ house for supper, you and he would spend hours up there, reading, playing video games, or sometimes just lying on the old rug your Grandma put in, watching the way the sunlight peeked around the leaves.

  Both your grandparents helped build the tree fort, and you’ll never forget how Papa smashed his thumb nailing the very last ladder rung. He hopped around the yard yelping, which made Pepi start hopping and yelping too. None of you meant to, but you all fell over laughing at the spectacle. You miss hanging out with your grandparents.

  Just then, you hear a soft voice from below.

  “Are you two comfortable?” your grandma asks.

  You motion to Jesse to be quiet and consider not answering her for a minute, but you realize you’re busted and give in.

  “Hi Grandma,” you both call down.

  Before you know it, she’s up the ladder and in the tree fort with you. She wants to know what you’re doing out so late and why you’re up in the tree fort. You decide to skip the bit about the guys who almost pummeled your brother, and you just tell her that you’re both sick of the fighting at home. She asks if you want to hear a story.

  Grandma tells great stories, and she always has titles for them too, which make them seem like epic adventures, even if they’re just about losing an earring or finding a dog. Like the day Papa smashed his thumb – she calls that “The Great Treehouse Finale.”

  “This is the story of ‘The Biggest Change,’ boys, and I’m not sure if I’ve told it to you before. Did either of you know that your old grandma played hoops back in college?”

  “No,” you and Jesse say in unison, both of you clearly surprised.

  “Well, I did,” she continues, “and I was good too.”

  She adjusts the collar of her jacket and pulls her feet up under her so she’s sitting cross-legged. You can tell this is going to be a good one.

  “Now, before I tell you the end, I have to tell you the beginning,” she says. “I started playing basketball back in the early 1960s. I was just a year or two younger than you, Jesse. You know, back then, the rules were different for girls and boys. First off, we had to wear heavy skirts, which were not easy to run in – not that they wanted us running,” she says, rolling her eyes. “We played six-on-six, with two rovers. The two stationary guards weren’t even allowed to move past half court, and the two stationary forwards could only shoot and rebound. We were only allowed to dribble three times in a row.” She says while holding up three fingers for emphasis. “Only three. My college coach used to say that at least that set-up was good for fast breaks.”

  She giggles and stares out the window for a moment, as if remembering a part of the story that she doesn’t intend to share.

  “Anyway, by the time I got to college in the early 70s, things had started to change. We were playing five-on-five, and we could all move around the full court.” She pauses, and sits up straight. “I even got one of the first college scholarships for women athletes,” she says proudly.

  You and Jesse had no idea your grandma was this cool.

  She goes on to say that “The Biggest Change” came in February 1975. Her team from Immaculata College played against Queens College in front of about 12 thousand fans. It was the first-ever women’s college game played at Madison Square Garden.

  “It was amazing,” she says.

  She tells you some of the exciting highlights, gesturing wildly as she describes different plays. Then she takes a deep breath and is quiet for a moment.

  “It was toward the end of the second half.” She looks down. “I went for a jump shot and got fouled. When I landed, my ankle snapped, and then the gal who fouled me fell on it. I knew I was out, but I didn’t realize I was out for good.”

  “Why?” Jesse asks.

  She tells you that the injury caused permanent damage. It affects her ability to run even now. Then she tells you about the handsome young medic who tended to her injury. She tells you that he took especially good care of her and made her laugh more than
anyone ever had. She tells you that they fell in love.

  “Wait a minute,” you say. “Who won the game?”

  “We did,” she says, smiling, “59 to 52.”

  She tells you the injury broke her heart as well as her ankle, because basketball was her life, but she’d do it all again, just to meet your papa.

  “Sometimes,” she says, “change seems like the worst thing, but you never know what good things may come.”

  You’re not sure if you could say that about what’s been going on with you, but you figure you’ll have to wait and see. Right now, you just hope grandma won’t want to tell your story.

  THE END

  You go to Ashton’s for strategizing rather than go with your mom. Coach has a “no looking back” policy. He says it’s good to learn from your mistakes, but you can only do that if you’re looking forward. Still, you wish the stuff with your family wasn’t so distracting.

  When you get to Ashton’s house, you feel better. Despite losing, everyone is in a good mood, and there’s pepperoni pizza – your favorite. Plus, some girls from school are visiting Ashton’s sister, Jeannine. You see Ellie Burkoski sitting on the couch, and she even waves.

  You’ve known Ellie since you were in diapers, and you’ve liked her almost as long. After you and the guys do some strategizing about the next time you face the Lions, you watch TV with the girls. Somehow, you get into a conversation with Ellie about tonight’s game, and you’re surprised by how much she knows.

  “Wow, you know a lot about basketball,” you say.

  “My dad played college ball, so it’s kind of a thing at my house,” she explains, and says, “Hey, you should come over and watch a game with us sometime. My dad will crack you up.”

  You can’t believe that Ellie Burkoski just invited you over to watch basketball. You’re wondering if you should pinch yourself, but there’s no need – Ellie slugs you in the arm and says, “Listen, I gotta go, but I’ll see you in school.”

  You’re beginning to really appreciate Coach’s policy on looking forward. You may not have won the game tonight, but you’re definitely feeling like a winner.

  THE END

  You let go of your shoulder and roll it back a few times, then forward. It really does hurt, but not as badly as you were making it seem.

  “Actually, Coach,” you say, “I think I can do it.”

  “Good, kid, I’m glad to hear it,” he replies. “And listen, there’s no pressure here, just go out there and do your best.”

  You nod and thank him, but you’re still super nervous. Maybe it’s the packed auditorium. One side filled with people wearing green and white from Chesterton, and the other filled with people in gold and blue from Lindonville. Some people are waiving pom-poms. There are signs that say, “GO DRAGONS” or “GO LIONS.” Some people even have their faces painted. Sure, there’s no pressure. Regardless, you’re committed now.

  You step out onto the court. You try to relax with some deep breaths and, in your head, you keep repeating, I can do it, I can do it, I can do it. You stare at the basket and spin the ball between both hands and slightly up into the air. You bend your knees, dribble the ball exactly three times, grab it, take another deep breath, and shoot. The ball hits the rim and rolls around it, not once, not twice, but three times. No one is breathing. The whole auditorium is silent. Then, the impossible happens: It goes in. The Dragons win the game!

  You can’t believe that just happened. You actually made a free throw. Imagine if you hadn’t been willing to take a chance.

  THE END

  Walking with Ellie Burkoski to get ice cream at Two Scoops is very tempting, but you apologize to her and run over to catch up with your buddies. Part of you can’t believe you just turned down a chance to hang out with the cutest girl you know. You’ve only had a crush on her forever. But you want to celebrate with your team.

  Out in the parking lot, a few Lions fans are standing around grumbling about the loss. They’re older and bigger than you guys.

  “Hey, Granny, need some help to your car?” one of them yells.

  “Better be careful,” another one says, “or you might fall and not be able to get up.”

  They start laughing and pretending to walk like old people, hunched over with canes.

  “I thought he was going to take a dump out there,” one of them says, making grunting noises and exaggerating the squatting position you took to make the toss.

  “Forget this,” Tommy says, throwing down his gym bag and starting toward them.

  “Just leave it, Tom,” you say. “I’m in enough trouble with Coach for being late to school. I can’t afford to get into a fight too. Besides, they’re just being sore losers.”

  “Yeah,” Tommy agrees, and then yells toward them, “They’re just losers.”

  It was a good call to ignore them too, because Coach saw what was happening. He walks over to you guys and tells you all how proud he is of you.

  After ice cream, you head home. Your mom and dad are in the kitchen, and they’re talking instead of yelling.

  “Great job tonight, honey,” your mom says, though she looks really sad.

  “That was an interesting play,” your dad says. “Nice work.”

  “Thanks,” you smile, wondering what’s going on. “Where’s Jesse?” you ask.

  “In his room, and that’s where he’s staying. Your brother’s in pretty deep, bud.”

  You know better than to press for more. Whatever he’s done, it must be serious. Ever since your parents started fighting, you’ve been distracted, but Jesse’s been getting into trouble.

  The next morning, Jesse leaves before you, but he’s not on the bus. You see him a block from school with some shady kids. You don’t want to be late again, but you wait for him anyway. You just want to make sure he’s not doing something monumentally stupid.

  “What’s up, Jess?”

  “Nothing. What do you care?”

  Mrs. Doyle yells for you to get to class and starts walking toward you.

  Jesse’s hiding something in his pocket. It’s a pack of cigarettes. You both grab for them at the same time, and they fall to the ground just in time to land at Mrs. Doyle’s feet. What are you going to do?

  GO TO PAGE 24. You take the blame for your brother, because you know he’s one bad deed away from disciplinary school.

  GO TO PAGE 18. You can’t take the fall for him. You’re already on thin ice with Coach, and you’re worried that Jesse needs more help than you can give anyway.

  You want Jesse to know that you are paying attention to him. Even though it’s dark, and your parents definitely would not go for it, you think it would be good for both of you to get out of the house and play some hoops. There’s a park near your grandparents’ house, where the court is lit-up at night, and it’s only about a 10-minute walk. Plus, it’s not particularly cold for November.

  “I can’t believe you want to do something that could get us in trouble,” Jesse laughs when you tell him your plan.

  “I know, but I really need to get out of here for a bit,” you say.

  Jesse practically runs out the door. Looks like he’s ready to get away, too.

  It’s been a while since you two played ball, but you fall into a pretty easy rhythm. He’s no match for your defense, but he can dribble and he’s fast. You’re having so much fun that you don’t notice a couple guys walk up, until one runs between you and snags the ball from Jesse.

  “Hey,” Jesse yells, but the guy just laughs.

  They’re older, and you can tell they’re from Lindonville because of their jackets. They look like football players, maybe sophomores or juniors. The guy who grabbed the ball pushes Jesse out of the way and motions for his friend to come over.

  “Give it back,” you demand.

  “Think you can take it?” he taunts.

  Jesse looks scared. You could run around the corner to your grandparents’ house, but you think you can get the ball from him.

  GO TO PAGE
63. It seems like they’re just messing with you, and you think you can get the ball back. You stay and confront them.

  GO TO PAGE 29. You’re not taking chances. You grab Jesse and head to your grandparents’.

  Everyone looks at Jesse. There’s something desperate about him, and you feel helpless. Then Coach starts to speak.

  “I’d like a moment with Principal Diggle,” he says. “You boys wait outside.”

  Mrs. Doyle says she’ll wait with you and Jesse. She says your parents are on their way, but she doesn’t sound as menacing as before. She sounds almost apologetic.

  When your parents arrive, Coach quickly ushers them into Mr. Diggle’s office. They don’t even have a chance to speak to you and Jesse. You see the looks on their faces though. Mom’s been crying and Dad looks super ticked off. You and Jesse don’t say anything or even make eye contact for what feels like forever. Eventually, Jesse breaks the silence.

  “What’s gonna happen?” he asks.

  “I don’t know,” you say honestly, “but I don’t think it’s going to be good.”

  The longer you sit there, the worse you imagine the consequences. A few times, you work up the nerve to turn your head to the side, just far enough so that you can peek a glimpse into the principal’s office and see what’s going on. At one point, you see your dad standing and it looks like he might start yelling. Your dad is a big man; he can be intimidating, and you hope he doesn’t lose his cool. Your poor mom is crying again. A few minutes later, you sneak another glance, everyone is seated and calm now. It looks like Coach is talking.

  When your parents finally walk out, it’s weird. They look relieved. Your mom says she’ll see you at home. Your dad gives you each a nod. You may have even caught a slight smile. Then Coach motions to you.

  Principal Diggle stands behind his desk wringing his hands. He looks uncomfortable, like he ate something bitter. He clearly doesn’t like giving the floor over, but Coach is the kind of guy you give the floor. He’s the kind of person who commands respect – probably because he gives it.