“Up at sunrise?” Jonas said. “Matty, we were in the gym before sunrise. Heck, we were done practicing before sunrise!”
“You get my point,” Matt said.
“Did Holder say anything about what Archer’s been like in practice so far?” Alex asked. “Do the guys like him?”
“Did the guys like my father?” Matt said.
“Not so much,” Jonas said.
“It isn’t a coach’s job to be everybody’s friend. Give him a chance.”
“Okay,” Alex said. “He’s got one chance left. Three strikes and he’s out.”
Alex wasn’t sure what was worse, getting up at 5:00 a.m. or doing so to go to a practice where neither he nor Jonas felt terribly challenged. Coach Birdy did his best to keep things interesting, putting them on opposite teams a lot of the time to even things up, but that was kind of self-defeating because when the games began Alex and Jonas would be playing together.
Each morning, Coach Archer would walk into the gym at about 6:45 carrying his coffee and pause to watch for a few minutes. Then he would disappear into his office. He never said anything to Alex or Jonas. Coach Birdy could tell they were frustrated. After practice on Thursday he asked them to stay a minute.
“I just want you to know that Coach Archer is fully aware of what you guys can do for the varsity,” he said. “He’s seen it in here, and I’ve told him. I think he just wants the guys who have been at practice since day one to get a crack at the first game before he adds you guys. I actually think he’s trying to help you out by putting you through this right now.”
“Help us out?” Alex said. “How is he helping us out?”
Coach Birdy laughed. “The football coaches told me how feisty you are, Myers,” he said. “It’s about football. If you guys finish football season on Friday, waltz into practice on Monday, having missed the first couple weeks, and then get serious playing time in the opener—which I’m sure you would—some guys will think you’re getting star treatment.
“This way,” he added, “the guys know you’ve been coming to JV practice at 6:00 a.m. all week. No special treatment. It’ll make your life easier next week.”
Alex looked at Jonas to see if he was buying this.
“But will we be on the varsity next week?” Jonas asked.
“I certainly hope so,” Coach Birdy said. “I certainly hope so.”
The JV game started at five o’clock on Friday. There was almost no one in the gym when Alex and Jonas and the other three starters for Chester Heights walked out to begin the game against the JVs from Wilmington North. The first thing Alex noticed was that the kid jumping center for Wilmington was no taller than he was. And the kid he was lining up next to outside the jump circle was about five six. Maybe, Alex thought, he’s quick and athletic.
As it turned out, neither the Wilmington point guard nor anyone else on their team was quick or athletic. Richie Corman was Kareem Abdul-Jabbar compared to their center, and Alex was Magic Johnson. At halftime the score was 46–8, and Alex felt a little embarrassed. He and Jonas each had eighteen points.
“Honestly, I’m not sure how they scored eight on you,” Coach Birdy said at halftime. “Myers, Ellington, I’m going to let you play another couple minutes, but that’ll be it. No need to humiliate these kids.”
Alex was fine with that. It was 56–8 when he and Jonas came out. They had all heeded Coach Birdy and actually clamped down a little more on defense. Wilmington North had trouble completing a pass, much less making a shot. The final score, after Coach Birdy ordered the guys playing in the fourth quarter not to shoot until they had passed the ball at least six times, was 70–19. It could have been much worse.
After walking through the handshake line, Alex and Jonas were headed for the locker room when they saw Coach Archer standing just outside the door. He was dressed in a jacket and tie for the varsity game.
“Good playing, you two,” he said.
Alex waited. That was it. Nothing about being at varsity practice on Monday.
“Thanks, Coach,” he said, and headed inside.
He was tempted to not stick around for the varsity game, but Jonas talked him out of it. “Don’t give him an excuse,” he said. “Play this his way and let’s see what happens.”
Alex sighed—but agreed. They joined the other JV players and sat behind the bench as they had been told to do. Alex would have much preferred sitting on the other side of the gym with Christine and Matt—who, he noted, were laughing most of the game.
Matt’s scouting report on Wilmington North proved accurate—not that big a surprise given how awful their JVs had been. Chester Heights won easily, though the game wasn’t a rout. The final was 64–52. The lead was comfortable most of the game, but there was no doubt in Alex’s mind that he and Jonas would have made a difference.
As the teams went through the postgame handshakes, Alex heard Coach Birdy calling to him and Jonas. He waved them down on the court.
“Coach wants you guys to come downstairs to the locker room,” he said.
“When?” Alex asked.
“Now,” Coach Birdy said. “Follow me.”
Unlike the football team, which had its own locker room, the basketball players changed in the massive general locker room. There was one privilege of being a varsity basketball player, though: you got your own locker with a nameplate on it. For everyone else it was first come, first served, with signs all over the place about locks left on overnight being cut off.
Alex and Jonas followed Coach Birdy to the varsity corner, and they stood off to the side while the players sat in front of their lockers and Coach Archer stood in front of them.
“Okay, guys, let me say this: any win is a good win,” he said. “You don’t throw them back. But I think you all know that’s probably the worst team we’re going to play all season, and we didn’t exactly blow them away. Mercer has four starters back from a team that won fourteen games last season—one of those against us. We won’t start Sunday practices until we’re playing two games a week. But we have a lot of work to do on Monday, so enjoy the weekend.”
They all started to stand, but he held up a hand to indicate he wasn’t finished. “I think you all know Myers and Ellington from the football team. They spent the week practicing with the JVs and played in their game tonight. I’ve watched them all week, and I think they’ve earned a place on varsity.”
He turned to Alex and Jonas. “Myers, Ellington—welcome.”
Alex wasn’t sure if they were supposed to say or do anything other than nod, but Coach Archer answered the question for him. He turned back to the rest of the team and said, “Okay, fellas, let’s get it in. Beat Mercer on three.”
The players stood up and came together between the rows of lockers. Steve Holder, the captain, was in the middle. Each put a hand up and leaned in.
“Hang on,” Holder said. “Myers, Ellington—get in here. You’re part of the team now.”
Alex and Jonas walked to the outer edges of the circle and put their hands in.
“On three,” Holder said.
“One, two, three,” they all said. “Beat Mercer!”
As they broke the huddle, everyone clapped Alex and Jonas on the back or offered handshakes.
Alex turned to find Coach Archer so he could thank him for the promotion.
He was nowhere in sight.
When Alex and Jonas came back up the steps to the gym floor, there were quite a few people milling around—mostly family and friends waiting for the varsity players.
Christine was there too, notebook in hand.
“So, what happened down there?” she asked, getting right to the point as she always did.
“Down where?” Alex said innocently.
She gave him a look—the one where she raised her eyebrow at him in disgust. It almost made him laugh, because it meant she was angry, frustrated, and impatient all at once.
“In the locker room,” she finally said, her teeth nearly clenched.
&nbs
p; “Oh that,” he said. “We’re on the team, starting Monday.”
“So Matt was right.”
Alex felt a twinge. He liked Matt, looked up to him even. But Matt could date almost any girl in the school. And he chose to sit with Christine….
“Yeah, Matt was right,” Alex said finally. “Did it take a genius to figure it out?”
This time the look she gave him was a lot sharper. “What’s with you?” she said.
“Nothing,” he said. “Are you going to the party at Janie Jasper’s house?”
“After I get through talking to the players,” she said. “I have to write the game story for next week’s paper. Everyone else is still writing about football.”
“There was a lot to write about,” he said.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Coach Archer emerging from the locker room. He went to stand against a wall while a handful of reporters—maybe a quarter of the number that had come out for a football game—went to talk to him.
“Gotta go,” Christine said. “I’ll see you there.”
“But…how are you getting—”
“I’ve got a ride,” she said—and was gone, off to talk to the coach of the undefeated Chester Heights Lions.
Fine, he thought. Not going to worry about it.
Jonas walked over. “You look worried about something,” he said.
“Me?” Alex said. “What would I be worried about?”
Alex and his mom had a deal on Friday nights: he could go to a party until midnight. “I know you’re a big football star,” she’d said when he had pleaded for an extra hour. “But you’re still only fourteen.”
Alex’s respect for his mom had grown considerably during the crisis involving his “failed” drug test. She had more or less taken control of the situation in a way he would have thought only his father could. His father, meanwhile, had been MIA since he and his mom and his sister, Molly, had moved in late July. Alex knew his mom had his back when it counted, which didn’t make the curfew less annoying, but it did keep him from giving her too much grief about it.
Happily Christine had the same midnight curfew, so they ended up walking out of the party together. Alex hadn’t seen Matt all night—which was a relief.
“How about Stark’s for lunch tomorrow?” she said.
“You only ask me to Stark’s when you’re working on a story,” he said.
“Guilty,” she said, giving him the smile he could never resist. “I’m going to do a sidebar on you and Jonas being called up to the varsity. I talked to Coach Archer about it.”
“What’d he say?”
“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” she said as her mom’s car pulled up. “See you at noon.”
He sighed. As usual, she had the last word.
Christine was already sitting in the back booth when Alex walked into Stark’s at 11:55 the next morning. Any small notion Alex might have had to try to make this their second date disappeared when he saw Jonas sitting across from her.
“You should be happy to see me,” Jonas said, reading Alex’s face as he sat down. “I do owe you a hamburger.”
“Two,” Alex said.
“Why does Jonas owe you a hamburger?” Christine asked.
“We had a bet on whether we’d play in the opening varsity game,” Alex answered.
“When did you make that bet?”
“Monday, after our first meeting with Archer.”
“You better get used to calling him Coach Archer,” she said.
Alex rolled his eyes. Jonas laughed.
“She’s right,” he said. “And so are you. I owe you two hamburgers.”
Christine had her notebook out. “You two guys ready to be the saviors again?”
“What do you mean?” Alex asked.
“You watched the varsity game Friday night, right?”
“So?” Alex wasn’t ready to bite anything but a hamburger at the moment. The waitress interrupted and they ordered—Alex opting for one burger, for now.
“So was there anyone playing for us who is as good as you or Jonas?” Christine continued.
“Steve Holder’s good. And Patton Gormley isn’t bad either.”
“Steve’s an inside player. Patton’s okay; you’re right. But that’s it. That means Archer’s going to have to start you and Jonas—if not right away, pretty soon.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Jonas said.
“Not at all. I just don’t think Coach Archer wants to make that move yet.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I asked him if he thought you guys would start next week against Mercer.”
“What’d he say?”
“He just raised an eyebrow. So I told him I’d watched the JV game and the varsity game, and I didn’t think either Wakefield or Early was nearly as good as you or Jonas.”
Zane Wakefield and Tony Early were the starting guards on varsity—both seniors.
“And?”
Christine flushed. “He had the nerve to say, ‘Didn’t you go to the holiday dance with Myers?’ ”
“Busted,” Jonas laughed at the same time that Alex blurted, “How did he know that?”
“He was a chaperone, remember? All the senior girls were trying to get him to dance.”
Alex did remember, now that she mentioned it. Coach Archer was apparently much admired by the girls in school. He doubted the boys who played on his basketball team felt quite the same way.
“So what did you say to that?” he asked.
“I told him that had nothing to do with my ability to judge your athletic skill, and that I suspected he was trying to avoid a legitimate question.”
“Hah.” Jonas shook his head. “No back-off in you, is there, Christine?”
“Nope.” She grinned.
“But what did he say?” asked Alex.
“He said, ‘Time will tell.’ Then he relented and said something that made more sense.”
“Yeah?” Jonas asked.
“He said, ‘If the thought even crossed my mind to sit down a senior—any senior—in favor of a freshman, do you think I’d tell a reporter first or the players first?’ ”
Jonas smiled. “He’s right about that.”
“I know,” Christine said. She looked at Alex. “Then he asked me if I thought you were a good dancer.”
“What?!”
“I think he was testing my ability to be impartial where you are concerned….”
Jonas started cracking up. “Oh man, that’s harsh.”
Alex shoved him. “Shut up, Jonas. I can dance.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, trying to suppress a grin. “What’d you say, Christine?”
“I told him,” she said, “that Alex has a very good French accent.”
“What does that have to do with my dancing?” Alex fumed, while Jonas practically fell out of his chair laughing.
Christine shook her head, trying not to laugh too.
Luckily the food arrived just then. And Alex comforted himself by thinking of the extra burger he’d be ordering so that Jonas would pay….
The good news for Alex and Jonas when they arrived for practice on Monday afternoon was that they already had lockers with their names on them—the two nearest the shower room, directly across from one another. That, however, was pretty much the end of the good news.
No one except Steve Holder, the team captain, looked up or even said hello when Alex and Jonas walked in.
“Glad to have you guys,” he said. “Just so you know, the last freshman who played on the varsity was me—two years ago.” He smiled.
“We just hope we can help,” Alex said.
Zane Wakefield, the starting point guard—the player Alex was most likely to displace if Coach Archer changed the lineup—turned around at that moment.
“You’ll help us by getting your butts into your practice gear and being on court at three-thirty. Anybody’s late, we all run.”
“Easy, Zane,” Holder said. “It’s th
eir first day.”
“You think Coach cares if it’s their first day?”
“Probably not,” Holder conceded. “We should all hustle.”
Watching the team play Friday night, Alex had identified Zane Wakefield and Tony Early as the weakest of the five starters. Neither appeared to be a true point guard: someone capable of handling the ball in traffic, setting up the offense, and making sure the plays the coach called were being run properly. In fact, he hadn’t seen anyone on the floor who looked to be point guard material. Early was a decent shooter, but he needed to be set up with an open shot—he couldn’t create his own shot off the dribble. At times, Holder, who was the team’s best inside player, had brought the ball upcourt.
Alex and Jonas opened their lockers and were relieved to find practice gear hanging inside. There was no doubt in Alex’s mind that Wakefield was right about Coach Archer not caring that it was their first day.
He and Jonas were the last two out of the locker room, just in time to hear a sharp whistle blow. Everyone else instantly raced to the jump circle, where Coach Archer was standing. Alex and Jonas glanced at one another and then sprinted as fast as they could to join the others.
“Okay, fellas, the easy part of the season ended Friday,” Coach Archer said. “I think all of you know I’m not exaggerating when I say that. Mercer’s not only good, but I have a feeling they’re also going to show up in a bad mood because of the way you guys”—he nodded at Alex and Jonas—“ran up the score on them in football.”
Everyone snickered a little. Alex wanted to point out that if anyone had reason to be upset about Coach Gordon running up the score that night it was him, since he was the one who had been knocked cold as a result.
“Myers, Ellington, we run a lot of the same plays as the JVs, so you shouldn’t have much trouble fitting in today. Watch the starters and the second team for a while and then we’ll fit you in when we get a chance.
“Okay, let’s stretch.”
They went through their stretching with the team’s other assistant coach, Scott Swanson—who was also one of the football strength coaches. Then they got into layup lines and did shell drills (running offensive sets with no defense) before moving on to more complicated offensive drills and then working on their defense—mostly zone but with some man-to-man mixed in. Neither Alex nor Jonas had seen the floor when Coach Archer blew his whistle and said, “Okay, fellas, get some water, then shoot some free throws.”
The Sixth Man Page 3