Tournament of Champions

by Phil Bildner

  I let out another hard puff. “Thanks for the Sunday Night Bomb.”

  “I am sorry about that,” she said. “Honestly, I am. But your father knows all about how much—”

  “How does he know anything about me? He doesn’t care about—”

  “Really, Rip?” She tilted up my chin. “Who do you think pays for that cell phone of yours? And how many pairs of sneakers do you have? Three? You think I paid for those on my own? Your video games? That laptop?”

  I slammed my elbows against the mattress.

  Pressing Matters

  For the rest of the night, I couldn’t focus on anything. I couldn’t read, I couldn’t play Xbox, I couldn’t even make it through an episode of Teen Titans Go!

  I was only able to sleep in bursts. I kept waking up, and each time I did, I started thinking about him. Then it would take me forever to fall back asleep. After about the fifth or sixth time, I gave up.

  School was just as frustrating. During Teacher’s Theater Time, Mr. Acevedo read the next chapter of Glory Be, but I couldn’t tell you a single thing that happened. Come to think of it, I don’t even remember if he read to us in the room or the Amp. At lunch I think I sat with Red, Avery, and Attie, and at recess I’m pretty sure I played kickball.

  Maybe.

  I needed practice this afternoon. I needed basketball mode.

  * * *

  Basketball mode wasn’t happening. Not at all.

  At the beginning of practice, Maya made a huge deal of Red coming to the Showdown. She had him take a victory lap around the gym, and then when he took his free throw, she had everyone chanting, “You’re the man! You’re the man!”

  I didn’t chant. I couldn’t shake him.

  When we went over breaking the press, Coach Acevedo wanted us to share what we needed to keep in mind. A-Wu brought up spreading the floor, staying away from corners, and avoiding traps. Zoe talked about how the person inbounding the ball after a basket was allowed to run the baseline, but most defenses didn’t realize it. Maya mentioned passing, how passing was faster than dribbling, and when it came to passes, you had to meet the ball, not wait for it to come to you. Diego talked about the importance of fakes—ball fakes, head fakes, bob fakes.

  I didn’t say anything. In my head, I was at the Showdown. I was on the court. He was in the bleachers. I couldn’t see him, only hear him.

  “Looking good, thirty-two.”

  “Let’s see what you got, thirty-two.”

  “Take it to the hole, thirty-two.”

  Toward the end of practice, Red taught everyone his Pacer play. First, he punched up the slow-motion YouTube vid on Coach Acevedo’s iPad. Then he walked Clifton United through it and made sure everyone knew all the parts.

  Each time Red looked my way, hoping I’d add something, I just stood there.

  Full Basketball Mode

  Twenty-two hours and twenty-five minutes later …

  Diego, Maya, Speedy, Red, and I huddled at the top of the key. At the other end of the court, Elbows, A-Wu, Super-Size, Zoe, and Mimi were setting their offense and getting ready to start the scrimmage.

  Clifton United never scrimmaged. I could count on zero fingers the number of times we scrimmaged during fall ball, but Coach Acevedo wanted us to get in some game-style action. This was going to be our last practice before the Showdown because the gym wasn’t available the rest of the week.

  I pressed my thumbs and knuckles to my lips and closed my eyes. A couple minutes ago, when Coach Acevedo told me to choose my five, I was all over it. I had to be. Today was going to be different. Today had to be different.

  “Yo, could you have picked a smaller team?” Diego said as he pulled the blue pinnie over his head.

  “That’s what you said the other day,” I said, “and that small-ball team kicked butt.” I pointed to the bench. “I can swap you out for Hudson or Mehdi, if you like.”

  “No way.”

  I flicked his ear. “That’s what I thought.”

  Going small-ball gave Clifton United our best chance at winning. We showed that at practice last week. We were going to show it again right now.

  “Who’s guarding who?” Maya asked.

  “I want Super-Size,” I said. “Who wants A-Wu?”

  “I do.” Red’s hand shot up. “I want Amy ‘A-Wu’ Wu.”

  “You ready?” I held out my fist.

  Red gave me a pound. “Ready as I’ll ever be, Mason Irving.”

  This was Red’s first-ever full-contact scrimmage. He was in full basketball mode just like I was. Today, I was here for him. I wasn’t letting my friend down again.

  “We’re all helping each other out,” I said once we all knew who we had. “After we get a stop, we push it downcourt. They’re not going to be able to match up with us.” I clapped hard. “Let’s do this.”

  Tweet! Tweet!

  “One thing before we start,” Coach Acevedo said. “No trash talk today. I’m calling a moratorium on all the chatter, and if you don’t know what moratorium means, look it up when you go home.”

  I was pretty sure I knew what moratorium meant. It was something we weren’t allowed to do anymore.

  “We’re playing Clifton United basketball.” Coach Acevedo backpedaled to the sideline. “Yellow ball underneath.”

  Usually when I’m on D, I pick up my man near midcourt, but since I had Super-Size, I was down low near the hoop. Of course Super-Size wanted to post me up, but I wasn’t about to let that happen. I had one arm pressed against his back and the other extended, denying him the ball.

  With my basketball eyes, I watched A-Wu set the offense. She was looking to go right to Elbows, but Red was forcing her left. I spotted Zoe sliding up from the corner and knew that’s where A-Wu was heading.

  It was time for the Gnat.

  When I played third-grade select, the other teams called me Gnat because I was annoying on defense. Like a gnat.

  I burst around Super-Size and bolted for the passing lane. I got my fingers on A-Wu’s pass and tipped it enough so that Zoe couldn’t catch it cleanly. Red snatched the ball away.

  “Blake Daniels with the steal!” I announced. “He flips it to Diego, who pushes it up. Diego dishes to Speedy in the paint. Speedy kicks it out to Irving. Irving whips it to Maya. Oh, what a pass! Cutting down the lane … the layup … It’s good! Everyone was in on that one. Oh, what a play!”

  Tweet! Tweet!

  “That was a thing of beauty!” Coach Acevedo bounded onto the court and gave pounds all around. “At both ends of the floor, a thing of beauty.” He pointed his whistle at me. “That’s the Rip I want to see! Way to make everyone around you better.”

  I smiled big.

  “Yo, that was real Rip Hamilton basketball!” Diego tapped the back of my head.

  “Next level,” I said, thumping my chest. “Now let’s get the ball to Red this time.”

  Once again, I matched up with Super-Size in the paint, and once again, A-Wu passed to Elbows. But this time, as soon as he caught it, Maya moved in for the steal. Elbows tried to dribble around her, but Speedy slid over to help, and Elbows stepped out of bounds.

  Tweet! Tweet!

  “Blue ball on the side,” Coach Acevedo called.

  It was time to make everyone around me better again.

  I dribbled up the floor and passed to Maya. She looked inside and swung the ball back to me. I was about to reverse it to Red when I spotted Diego sprinting into the lane. I fired the ball his way. He caught it and faced the hoop. He had a clean shot, but he also had Red wide open cutting to the basket. Diego hit him in stride. Red sank the layup.

  “Boo-yah!” I hammer-fisted the air.

  “Bam!” Red jumped up and down. He double-fist-bumped Diego. “Bam!” Then he double-fist-bumped Maya and Speedy. “Bam! Bam!” He spun to me. “Bam, Mason Irving!”

  Hoodie Time

  “Thursday’s meeting here at RJE starts at six-thirty sharp,” Coach Acevedo said when we circled up by the stage at the en
d of practice. “It won’t be a long meeting, but it is mandatory. Everyone needs to be here with a parent or guardian. I’ll send out all the deets in an email this evening.”

  “Will there be food?” Diego asked.

  “Yes, Diego, there will be food,” Coach Acevedo said.

  “Sweet!” Diego drum-rolled the floor. “I’m so there.”

  “It also looks like we resolved our chaperone dilemma,” Coach Acevedo added. “I’ll know for sure in the next day or so. I’ll keep you posted.” He held up a finger. “Give me a sec. I have something for everyone.” He headed for the sideline.

  “Sick cut on that pass from Diego,” I said, tapping Red’s knee. He was sitting beside me on the front of the stage.

  “Thanks, Mason Irving.”

  “That was the best I’ve ever seen you play.”

  “That makes two of us,” Maya added. She was on the other side of Red.

  “Thanks, Maya Wade.” Red basketball-smiled and swung his legs.

  “So I have something for you,” Coach Acevedo said, jogging back over with a large carton. “A surprise.”

  “A good surprise?” Maya asked. She slid off the stage.

  “I think so.” He put the carton down and opened the top flaps. “There’s one for everyone. They’re all the same size.”

  Speedy reached the box first and pulled out a folded navy Clifton United hoodie.

  “Sweet!” Diego knee-slid to the box and grabbed three. He tossed one to Hudson and one to Maya.

  “These are hot!” Speedy said, shaking out her sweatshirt and holding it up.

  “Ballin’!” Maya said. She put hers on.

  Diego handed out the rest.

  “Oh, yeah!” Red said when he got his. He jumped off the stage. “Thanks, Coach Acevedo.”

  “Don’t thank me,” he said. “Thank Mehdi’s dad the next time you see him. He’s the one who had them made.”

  Elbows high-fived Mehdi. Zoe and Super-Size gave him pounds.

  “Yo, we should all wear these on Friday,” Diego said, putting his on.

  “I like that,” Coach Acevedo said. “I’ll include a reminder in the email.”

  “I feel like I’m wearing a hospital gown again,” Diego said, leaping onto the stage. His hoodie was a little big on him. “Can I tell my hospital gown story?” He looked at Coach Acevedo.

  “Do we have a choice?”

  Diego flipped up his hood and swatted the strings. “The first few times I was in the hospital, I had to wear a gown. But I always forgot to tie it, and my beautiful butt would always hang out.” He turned around, lifted up the sweatshirt, and shook his butt. “So my uncle made me a glitter ‘Kick Me’ sign and clipped it to the back of my gown. I wore it everywhere!”

  “Thanks, Diego,” Coach Acevedo said.

  “Can I say one more thing?” Diego jumped off the stage and held up his hand like he was taking an oath. “I promise it’s not about my beautiful butt.”

  Coach Acevedo motioned for him to go ahead.

  “When you’re in the hospital for as long as I was,” Diego said, “you start to wonder if you’re ever going to get out. You can’t help it.” He swallowed. “So I just wanted to say thanks … because one of the things … one of the things that kept me going was the thought of playing on a basketball team with my friends. Like this.” He thumped his chest. “Clifton United rocks.”

  Kids in the Hall

  Zoe, Diego, and I sat on the polka-dotted beanbag chairs facing Red, Mehdi, and Speedy, who were on the denim couch. The rest of Clifton United sat on the floor around the pizza boxes.

  We’d dragged the furniture out of Room 208 and down the hall when Coach Acevedo said the kids could leave the meeting. That was right after the pizza arrived, which was right after we learned our hotel room assignments.

  I was rooming with Red, Diego, and Elbows. The three other boys—Hudson, Mehdi, and Super-Size—were in the connecting room with Coach Acevedo. The five girls and Ms. Yvonne were sharing connecting rooms, too. The third chaperone was staying in a separate room, which seemed kind of odd.

  “Yo, you two better not fart in your sleep,” Diego said, pointing his pizza crust at Red and me.

  Red squinched his face. “I don’t fart in my sleep, Diego Vasquez.”

  “I do!” Super-Size raised his water bottle. “Juicy farts! Loud, juicy—”

  “Do you mind?” Maya said. “I’m eating.”

  “My dog farts in his sleep,” Hudson said.

  Everyone laughed.

  “He does.” Hudson nodded. “He’s a puny little pug, but I swear, his farts can clear a room.”

  Everyone laughed again.

  I checked Red. He was eating his pizza the way he always ate pizza. Peeling the toppings off the crust. Eating the toppings. Eating the cheese. Licking off the sauce. Not eating the crust. Red never ate the crust. He always gave the crust to me.

  I eat everything.

  “Do any of you girls toot in your sleep?” Diego asked.

  “Gross!” Zoe shook her hands by her face.

  “I’m just asking,” Diego said, grinning. “Don’t you want to know if your roommates toot in their sleep? I wonder if Ms. Yvonne toots in—”

  A piece of pepperoni hit his cheek and fell onto his shirt.

  “Oh!” a bunch of us said.

  “There’s more where that came from,” Maya said, pointing to her slice.

  Diego flicked off the pepperoni. “Yo, that’s exactly why I didn’t wear my hoodie,” he said.

  Most of us had worn our hoodies. It looked pretty cool seeing everyone wearing them. We were going to look hot walking into the Showdown dressed in Clifton United swag.

  “I still need to thank your dad for the sweatshirts,” A-Wu said to Mehdi.

  “Me too,” said Hudson.

  “It wasn’t just my dad,” Mehdi said. “It was my mom, too. Mostly my mom. My dad came up with the idea. My mom designed and ordered them.”

  “So what’s the deal with Elbows?” Mimi asked.

  “That’s what I want to know,” Speedy said.

  I wanted to know, too. Elbows didn’t come tonight, and tonight was mandatory. When Coach Acevedo said something was mandatory, he meant it.

  “Yo, it’s messed up he isn’t here,” Diego said.

  “Was he in school?” Speedy asked Super-Size.

  “Yeah,” Super-Size said, “but he didn’t say anything about not coming. He’d better come to the Showdown.”

  “You’re telling me.” I rolled off the beanbag chair to the pizza and grabbed another slice. “A little better than RJE cafeteria pizza, right?” I said to Diego.

  “Yo, that pizza box tastes better than our school pizza.”

  “Our school pizza is ballin’,” Maya disagreed. “It’s better than pizzeria pizza.”

  Coach Acevedo popped his head into the hall. “About ten more minutes,” he said, holding up his hands. “Everyone’s good down here?”

  “We’re good,” Super-Size said.

  We all laughed. For no reason. We just did. Fifth graders do that sometimes.

  “Make sure you save me a couple slices,” Coach Acevedo added. Then he ducked back into the room.

  “I wish we had a couch and beanbag chairs in our classroom,” Zoe said. “All we have are desks and chairs.”

  “We have to sit in rows,” Hudson said. “Assigned seats.”

  “We sit wherever we want, Hudson Moss,” Red said. “I mean … not wherever we want.” He put down what was left of his pizza and shook his fingers by his face. “We can’t move around, but we … we choose where we want to sit. This month, I’m sitting with Trinity Webster, Attie Silverman, and Mason Irving.”

  “Dag, I almost forgot.” I popped to my feet. “Back in a sec.”

  I ran down the hall to Room 208. When I reached the door, I stopped dead in my tracks. It looked so weird seeing all the grown-ups sitting in our seats. Suzanne and Mom were at my table.

  “Hey, everyone,” I said,
waving.

  “What can I do for you?” Coach Acevedo asked.

  I pointed to the book bin on the windowsill. “Need True Believer,” I said.

  I quick-walked across the room, love-tapped Mom on the shoulder, and grabbed the book.

  “Nothing to see here, everyone,” I said, heading back to the door. “Nothing at all.”

  A few parents laughed.

  I scooted out and sprinted down the hallway. “That’s my seat,” I said to A-Wu, who’d snagged my beanbag chair.

  “You didn’t call fives,” she said.

  “I’ll remember that.” I sat down on the floor and held up the book. “Coach Acevedo got me a copy of True Believer from the middle school library.”

  “What’s True Believer?” Zoe asked.

  I tapped the cover. “This is where our team mantra comes from.”

  “We will rise to the occasion, which is life,” Diego said. He stood on the beanbag chair and jumped in circles. “We will rise to the occasion! We will rise to the occasion!”

  I grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him down. “The character that says it is one of the teachers,” I said, opening to the page with the blue stickie. “Her name is Dr. Rose.”

  “Are you going to read to us, Ripster?” Diego said, baby-talking.

  That’s exactly what I was planning on doing. I was going to read the passage from the book. But now, all of a sudden, that idea seemed mad corny.

  “We will rise to the occasion, which is life,” Red said, standing up. “We will rise to the occasion, which is life.”

  I smiled. Sometimes Red did the coolest things in the world without even realizing he was doing the coolest things in the world.

  I stood up. “We will rise to the occasion, which is life,” I said.

  Then everyone else stood. “We will rise to the occasion, which is life!”

  Thursday Night Bomb