Wheel Wizards

by Matt Christopher

  Seth suddenly felt much better. “Yeah, it really feels good. When I started out, I used to get really wiped out in a few minutes. Now I can do so much more, with weights, exercises, it's great.”

  Danny lightly punched Seth's arm. “Wait till we've finished with you. You'll really be tough then, I guarantee you.”

  “When do we get to really play ball?” asked Pete.

  “When you're ready,” Danny answered. “Wes wants you to learn how to use your chairs — that's the first thing. Then you're going to work on the mechanics: dribbling, passing, and so on. It's not much fun, but it has to be done.”

  “So we won't even be doing any shooting today?” Seth asked, feeling let down.

  “You want to do some shooting?” asked Wes, who had overheard Seth's question. “Get a ball, find a hoop, and shoot all you like. But what we have to do here, as a team, is make players of you. The fun part comes later.”

  He raised his voice so the others could hear. “Okay, we've had our rest. Time to get back to work.”

  Pete groaned, but softly, so only Seth could hear. He gave Seth a look of exaggerated fatigue that almost made Seth laugh out loud. But he held it in. He decided he liked Pete, and hoped he would stay with the team.

  After practice ended, he asked Pete, “Want to hang out with some of my friends and me this weekend?”

  Pete's face lit up in a smile. “I'll check with my folks. But I think so, yeah. Thanks. If I've recovered by then.”

  Outside, while Seth waited to be taken home, Danny came up to him. “Listen, I do some shooting over at the elementary school playground on weekends. Maybe we can plan a time for you to join me?”

  “Hey, sure. That'd be neat.”

  Seth felt flattered that Danny had invited him. And he had a feeling that, in Pete, he had a new friend. It had been an excellent day.

  7

  You sure are in a bad mood today,” Lou said as they walked to the gym, where Seth was due to practice. “What's the problem?”

  Seth shrugged. It was a week after the first practice, and a hard week it had been, too. “Maybe it's nothing. But I think the coach is getting on my case way too much. It's getting to be a total drag.”

  “You mean, he's hassling you in particular?” asked Lou. “Or that he just rides everybody too hard?”

  “Not everybody, just me,” Seth snapped. “I don't get it. I work as hard as all the other guys, and I think I may be better than most of them. But it's like I can't do anything right, and whatever I do, he puts me down.”

  Lou walked a few paces before he said, “Did you ask him about it?”

  “Yeah! Of course I asked him about it! I'm not stupid!”

  Lou raised a hand. “Okay, okay, lighten up! I'm just asking.”

  “Sorry,” Seth said. “I asked the coach if there was something I was doing wrong, or had said that bothered him, and he said that if I did something wrong, I'd hear about it. Pete noticed it, too. He asked what I'd done to get the coach mad at me.”

  “Maybe you can talk to Danny,” Lou suggested.

  But Seth shook his head. “Bad idea. I thought about it, but I don't think Danny would be happy. I mean, he's my friend, but he's also the coach's assistant, and he doesn't want to be put in the middle.”

  As they reached the gym door, Lou said, “Well, maybe it'll just blow over. Anyway, I hope so. See you.”

  Seth waved to his friend, took a deep breath, and entered the gym. The rest of the players and the coaches were already there.

  “Where were you?” Wes demanded, looking at his watch.

  Seth stared at him. “I thought practice started at four o'clock. It's not even four yet.”

  “Guess a star athlete like you doesn't have to bother warming up,” said the coach. “When I say that practice starts at four, I mean be ready to go to work at four. I don't mean show up at four.”

  Seth clenched his jaws tight and tried not to let his anger show. After a moment, he said, “Sony It won't happen again.”

  Wes nodded and turned to face the other boys. “We're going to work on our dribbling today. Form two lines for a relay race.”

  Seth suppressed a groan and tried not to let his nervousness show. Although he was making good progress in other parts of the game, he was still having trouble with dribbling, especially coordinating it with keeping his chair moving where he wanted it to go. It seemed that he was always either losing the ball or letting the chair go off to the side, or both.

  And now they were doing this relay race, in which two lines of players were competing teams. A player from each team dribbled from one end of the court to the other and then passed the ball to the next teammate, until all four players had gone. As he got on the end of one line, Seth was dreading messing up and causing his team to lose.

  Pete, who was the anchorman on the other team, noticed the expression on his friend's face and leaned toward him. “Just be cool,” he whispered. “You can do it.”

  Seth smiled weakly.

  The race was close, and as Seth and Pete set themselves in their chairs, Seth's team had a slight lead. He got the ball and started downcourt as fast as he could. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Pete just behind him.

  Seth knew that he should be able to dribble without watching the ball so he could keep an eye on where he was going, but he couldn't stop himself from shifting his eyes to his dribbling. As he did, his chair swung into Pete's path.

  “Pender, watch where you're going!” shouted the coach. Startled, Seth tried to get back into his lane. As he did so the ball hit his wheel and caromed away. Disgusted, he stopped and stared at it.

  Wes's voice was like a whiplash. “Get the ball, Pender! You going to sleep out there?”

  Feeling angry and embarrassed, Seth raced after the ball, grabbed it, and headed back to finish his leg of the relay. He noticed that Pete had stopped and was waiting for him.

  “Gould!” the coach yelled. “You're in a race, remember? Get moving!”

  Pete quickly finished the race, leaving Seth trailing by several seconds. Seth wished that he could find a hole to hide in. Why was the coach being so unfair?

  Wes wheeled up to Seth and grabbed the ball. “Maybe you should think about getting here early and working on your dribbling. You sure need the work”

  Seth felt the eyes of all the other players on him and felt his jaws clench. The coach looked at him for a moment and turned away.

  “Let's move on, people. We have a lot to do this afternoon.”

  The practice went on, with Wes riding Seth despite the fact that Seth was improving quickly. At one point, as the coach was having the team work on a new defense against a pick, Seth and a teammate slammed together. Off balance, Seth tumbled out of his chair onto the hardwood floor. Pete and two others rushed to help him up, but Wes stopped them with a blast of the whistle.

  “Let him alone. Seth can get up by himself,” he said. Pete gave the coach a look of surprise, but Seth said, “I'm okay”

  Setting his wheel brakes, he hoisted himself back into his seat. The coach nodded. “You all need to be as independent as possible. One way to get there is not to look for help when you can do something by yourself. That doesn't just apply to basketball, by the way.”

  A few minutes later, Pete edged over to Seth. “You all right?” he asked.

  Seth shrugged. “I'm not hurt, if that's what you mean. Yeah, I guess I'm all right.”

  Pete shook his head. “I was going to help you up, but —”

  “But he didn't need your help.” Con Addams had heard Pete and was staring hard at him and Seth. “Coach is right. The more you can do for yourself, the better off you are, and you'd better understand what that means.”

  Seth stared back at Con. “I didn't ask anyone to help me up, did I? I did it myself.”

  Con nodded, unsmiling, and the team resumed practice. They worked on passing and a few offensive plays. Wes seldom praised anyone and got on some players for not paying attention or taking it
too easy. Seth did neither, but still got criticized. By the end of practice, he had had all he could stand and headed quickly for the exit, not speaking to anyone.

  He heard someone calling his name as he rolled toward the parking lot, but didn't stop until he was outside. As he sat there, taking deep breaths and trying to relax, Danny came up alongside him.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  Seth snorted. “Oh, I'm just great.”

  “If you have something on your mind, maybe you should spit it out,” suggested Danny.

  Seth wheeled around to face the other boy. “I'm tired of being picked on all the time! It's not fair! I'm doing as well as I can, and I think I'm picking everything up just fine. Well, maybe not the dribbling. But no matter what I do, he finds something to get on my back about. What does the coach have against me, anyway? Do you know?”

  Danny sighed. “He doesn't have anything against you. I think he feels you're doing a good job.”

  “He sure has a funny way of showing it! He's never said one nice thing to me.”

  “Have you heard the coach say anything nice to anybody?” asked Danny.

  Seth thought for a moment. “Well … no. But he's still got it in for me, and I don't know how much more I can take. If he keeps doing it, I think I may quit!”

  Danny studied Seth for a long, silent minute. Finally, he spoke.

  “I think it'd be a real shame if you quit the team, Seth. But, you know what? That's your decision to make. See you tomorrow.”

  Danny turned and moved away, leaving Seth staring after him.

  8

  Maybe I'll just quit the team.”

  Seth was on his way to a session with Brian, and Lou was walking with him.

  “You really think you want to do that?” asked Lou, frowning. “Don't you think that would be going too far? I mean, you've been looking forward to this, working out… “

  They stopped to wait for a traffic light. “I was looking forward to it,” Seth agreed, “but I never figured on being picked on all the time.”

  As they crossed the street, Lou asked, “Did you tell Danny? What does he think?”

  “He said it was up to me, but I think he's on Coach's side. Con, too.”

  “Really? Huhn.”

  Seth turned and stared at his friend. “What does ‘huhn’ mean?”

  “Well… “ Lou chewed on his lower lip. “I don't know your coach, but Danny and Con are cool guys.”

  “I think so, too,” Seth admitted. “Or I did, anyway. Now, I don't know. So you think they're all right and I'm all wrong, is that it?”

  Lou raised his hands and smiled at Seth. “Hey, I'm your friend, remember. I'm on your side. It's just that … I think it'd be too bad if you quit. You could be really good at this, and getting yourself ready for it has done great things for you.

  “I mean, look at you! You're in really good shape, and you've been so much more upbeat since this game came into your life. I hope you'll think twice before you do anything final, that's all.”

  They had arrived at Brian's office. Seth took a deep breath and grinned at Lou. “I know you're my friend, and I won't do anything right away. I guess I'll talk to Brian about this. He helps me see straight, sometimes.”

  Lou said, “Hey, I'm going to the library, but I'll meet you after, and we can go to your place and work on the science project. Okay?”

  “Cool! See you,” Seth said, going inside Brian's office.

  After a few minutes of general talk, Brian looked closely at Seth. “What's on your mind? You look like a man with a problem.”

  Seth was often startled at the way in which the therapist could sense something was wrong, even when he hadn't said anything much. During their first sessions, he might not have opened up about his feelings. But now, he started talking about what had been happening between him and his coach, and how unfair he felt it was.

  “I could understand if I was being a jerk, or I couldn't do stuff right,” he said, “But I may be the best player on the team, right now. I mean, I still have trouble dribbling, but otherwise, I'm doing great! He never lets up on me, never tells me I did a good job. At least Danny and Con sometimes say I did well, but not Wes.”

  “Danny and Con — the assistant coaches?” Brian asked.

  Seth nodded. “I like them, and they like me … or I thought they did, anyway. Now, I don't know anymore.”

  Brian leaned back in his chair. “So, you figure that the coach has something against you. And you don't know what it is. That right?”

  “Yeah. I even asked him what the problem was, but he tried to tell me there was no problem. But there has to be!”

  “You're sure about that? That Wes doesn't like you?”

  “What else could it be?” Seth asked.

  Brian ran his hands through his hair. “Do you get along with the rest of the team? You like them, and they like you?”

  “Sure! One guy, Pete Gould, he's a good friend now. And I get along with everyone else, too, including Danny and Con.”

  “And you're doing well as a player? No problems there?”

  Seth felt annoyed. He had wanted a little sympathy, and all he was getting was questions. “It's like I said, except for dribbling, I'm doing everything well. Passing, shooting, defense — I'm quicker than anybody else, except Pete. I can maneuver the chair better, too.”

  Brian nodded. “Okay. Let's take it that you're the number-one player on … What's the name of the team?”

  “We haven't picked a name yet,” replied Seth. “We will, before our first game.”

  “You're the top player on the team, then. So, Wes is always giving you grief because he is some kind of bad guy and has just decided that you're the one he wants to pick on. Or… “

  He stopped and looked at Seth, eyebrows raised.

  After a minute, Seth couldn't stand it. “Or what?”

  The therapist shrugged. “You tell me. Isn't there anything you can think of to explain what's happening here? I mean, you tell me that Danny and Con are your buddies, and they don't have a problem with what the coach is doing. Maybe something's going on here that you haven't worked out yet.”

  Seth fought back a temptation to shout that he knew exactly what was going on, and took a deep breath. Working with Brian had taught him that it never solved anything to get mad and yell. Instead, he thought hard.

  “Maybe … maybe he thinks I should be doing better. Even though I'm doing pretty well, maybe he wants me to do better. Except … why? If I'm doing well already?”

  “You're doing so well that you couldn't possibly be doing better?” Brian smiled at Seth. “Is that what you mean?”

  Seth snorted. “Of course not! You can always do better! But if he said something nice once in a while, I might want to work even harder. Why not give me a break sometimes?”

  Brian sighed. “I can't tell you the answer to that one. Everybody has his own way of working, and there are probably reasons why this coach does what he does. You might want to keep thinking about what they could be.”

  Seth nodded. “I guess.”

  “You still thinking about quitting the team?”

  “I guess not right now, anyway. I'll stick it out a little longer.”

  Brian grinned at Seth. “I think you made a good decision. See? That's my way of working, to let you know when you do something good.”

  Later that afternoon, Seth and Lou were in Seth's room, working together on their science project, when Phyllis knocked on the door and stuck her head in. “How was practice?”

  Seth made a face. “Okay, I guess.”

  “Is there a problem?” she asked.

  Seth explained what was going on between him and the coach. Lou said, “Seth thinks that the coach has a grudge against him, but I'm not so sure.”

  Phyllis came into the room and leaned against the door. “You remember how I used to complain about my math teacher in seventh grade? How she was always giving me a hard time, and I thought she was totally unfair?”r />
  “Yeah, I remember,” said Seth. “But you changed your mind later on, right?”

  “Right. I found out she had decided I was really good at math and that I could goof off all year and still get a good grade. But she knew I could do better than good, so she made sure I wouldn't loaf. And now I feel grateful to her.”

  Lou sat up. “Maybe that's it! Maybe the coach thinks you're so good he wants you to make the most of your talent.”

  Seth shrugged, but the idea stayed with him and was still in his head when he went to sleep that night.

  Could it be that Wes had especially high expectations for him? And, if so, was it worth putting up with a lot of grief to try to meet those expectations?

  9

  Listen up, guys!” Wes had just assembled the team to begin practice. “I have a few things to say before we go to work. First off, we'll be playing our first game one week from tonight, a team from the next county.”

  Seth and Pete grinned at each other and a few players began to talk excitedly among themselves. Wes raised a hand and everybody fell silent. “This other team, the Tigers, has been together for a year already. Some of them are pretty experienced, so we have our work cut out for us to get ready. Today, you're going to play some three-on-three.

  “One other thing: This team doesn't have a name yet. I was thinking we could call ourselves the Wizards — well, the Junior Wizards — after the team that Danny and Con play for. I like the name, and we can use some of their old jerseys. Would that be all right?”

  Nobody had a problem with the name.

  “Okay, enough talk. Let's warm up, and then we'll play.”

  As part of the warmups, Wes ran another relay race, the kind that had messed Seth up several days before. Now, Seth had no problem at all. In fact, he was among the faster dribblers on the team. Only Pete could beat him up and down the court. Wes said nothing to Seth, which, Seth now knew, was a good sign.

  Generally, Seth had improved. He had developed calluses on his hands so that they no longer got rubbed raw when he used them as brakes to bring the chair to a quick stop. His shooting range had improved; he could hit from farther outside with fair accuracy, although he wasn't ready to try three-pointers yet. He could make hard chest passes and bounce passes, and was becoming a deft ball-handler.