Bad-Luck Basketball

by Thomas Kingsley Troupe

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1: NOT A CHANCE

  CHAPTER 2: DUMB LUCK

  CHAPTER 3: PRACTICALLY PRACTICE

  CHAPTER 4: MISSING OUT

  CHAPTER 5: IT'S TRUE!

  CHAPTER 6: BUSTED

  CHAPTER 7: PLAY-OFF BOUND

  CHAPTER 8: BAD-LUCK BUS RIDE

  CHAPTER 9: OF ALL THE LUCK

  CHAPTER 10: TEAMWORK

  CHAPTER 11: JUST IN TIME

  CHAPTER 12: LUCKY BREAK

  CHAPTER 13: BREAKING THE STREAK

  CHAPTER 1

  NOT A CHANCE

  Brandon Whitler and the rest of the Chesterfield Clovers basketball team had less than fifteen minutes before their second-to-last game started. No one on the team was expecting to win. After all, their record wasn’t very impressive.

  Even so, Coach Hanson insisted they warm up and treat it like they were championship-bound. They practiced free throws and passing drills to loosen up. At one point, Brandon went for a lay-up and wedged the basketball between the hoop and the backboard. It stuck there, nice and tight.

  “Nice work, Whitler!” hollered Jeff Stuckey, Brandon’s best friend.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Brandon muttered. He felt like an idiot as Coach Hanson pointed out to a maintenance guy what had happened. The game couldn’t start with the ball stuck up there.

  The rest of the Clovers watched as the maintenance man set up a ladder, climbed up, and poked the ball loose with a broom handle. The ball bounced and rolled under the ladder. Brandon quickly ran forward, ducked under the ladder, and scooped up the ball.

  “Dude!” cried Kevin Yang, one of Brandon’s teammates. “You just went under a ladder! That’s bad luck!”

  “Come on,” Brandon said. He bounced the ball easily back and forth between his hands and shook his head. “Who believes in that stuff? It’s totally made up.”

  “I don’t know,” Kevin said. “Me?”

  “You still believe in the Tooth Fairy, too?” Brandon asked with a smirk.

  Kevin shook his head. “Whatever, man. Just don’t blame me when you’re stuck with bad luck.”

  At the other end of the gym, the Arrow Lake Archers finished their warm up. The Clovers stood around and watched as the maintenance guy climbed off the ladder, folded it up, and hauled it off the court. Suddenly the referee blew his whistle to signal the start of the game. The Clovers had lost any extra warm-up time. But as it turned out, it didn’t matter.

  * * *

  The entire game went terribly. Brandon knew it and so did the rest of the team. Everything that could possibly go wrong did. It was like the Clovers were cursed.

  It started when Jeff, their star center, went to center court to take the tip-off. But instead of knocking the ball into Clover territory, he fell hard on his rear end. Jeff stood up, looking confused. He didn’t seem to understand how he’d ended up on the ground. It wasn’t like the Archers’ center had shoved him. He just sort of . . . fell.

  As if that weren’t bad enough, Tony Gustard, another one of the Clovers’ best players, sprained his ankle in the third quarter. One second he was driving the ball toward the Archers’ territory and the next his ankle rolled sideways, and he cried out in pain.

  Brandon’s luck wasn’t much better. As one of the team’s forwards, he should have been taking shots and making baskets. But every shot he took was either a complete air ball or toilet-bowled around the rim, only to drop into a defending player’s hands.

  By the end of the game, the Clovers were worn out, beat up, and felt as defeated as they had the rest of their season. And the score showed that. They’d lost to the Archers 44-79.

  After slapping hands with the Archers players to congratulate them on their good game, the team headed to the locker room.

  “Quick talk before you hit the showers, guys,” Coach Hanson said as he followed them in.

  Brandon wasn’t sure if it was the constant losing seasons the Clovers had endured over the past few years or their most recent defeat, but the coach looked exhausted. It was never easy for small schools to compete against some of the bigger ones, but the Clovers were struggling more than usual.

  Once everyone had taken a seat on the locker room bench, Coach Hanson took off his baseball cap and ran his hands through his hair. “I’m really not sure what to say about that game, guys,” he said. “What happened out there? It’s like we’re having the worst kind of luck all of a sudden.”

  At mention of the word “luck” Brandon felt his ears get hot. Across the locker room, Kevin stared at him, shaking his head. As if that weren’t enough, he pointed at Brandon.

  Seriously? Brandon thought. Again with the whole ladder thing?

  At least Kevin hadn’t told the coach about his bad-luck theory. But that didn’t stay true for long.

  “Maybe it was because Brandon walked under that ladder before the game,” Kevin said.

  Thanks for nothing, Kevin, Brandon thought. “That’s ridiculous,” he said. “No one believes all that stuff, do they?”

  Coach Hanson shook his head. “Of course not, guys. But I’m still struggling with this loss. It’s like you guys don’t want to make it to the play-offs.”

  “Well, it’s not like we really have a chance after the way we played out there tonight,” Tony muttered.

  “That’s not entirely true,” Coach said. “If we manage to win next week’s game, the final seat in the play-offs is ours. It’s that simple. But based on how we played tonight, we’re going to need lots of practice if we’re going to make it.”

  The entire Clover team murmured in excitement. It seemed impossible that they’d ever see the play-offs, especially since they’d had a lousy season. But they had to try.

  As everyone got ready to hit the showers, Kevin walked over to Brandon and folded his arms across his chest.

  “Your bad luck better wear off before then, Brandon,” Kevin whispered. “We can’t lose our chance at the play-offs because of you.”

  Fantastic, Brandon thought. If we lose, Kevin will tell everyone it’s my fault.

  CHAPTER 2

  DUMB LUCK

  On the bus ride back to Chesterfield Junior High, Brandon sat in the seat behind Jeff. Even though the Clovers had gotten their butts kicked by Arrow Lake, most of the team seemed to be in a good mood. The thought of having a shot at the play-offs seemed to cheer everyone up. The only person not smiling was Brandon.

  “C’mon, man,” Jeff said, noticing Brandon’s sullen expression. “Don’t let that bad luck stuff get to you.”

  “I didn’t at first,” Brandon said. “But the more I think about it, the more I wonder if I did bring bad luck to the team.”

  “That’s garbage,” Jeff said with a shrug. “Did you forget we’re the Clovers? That’s good luck. It cancels the ladder thing out.”

  “Four-leaf clovers are good luck. Our logo only has three leaves,” Brandon pointed out.

  “Ah, who cares?” Jeff replied with a shrug. He nodded toward Kevin. “I wouldn’t worry too much about what Kevin thinks. You know how superstitious he is. He wears the same stinky socks for every game. Hasn’t washed them yet.”

  Brandon laughed. “Those things reek. I just hope he isn’t right. I’d hate to be the reason we don’t make the play-offs, you know?”

  Jeff shook his head. “Tonight wasn’t bad luck, Brandon,” he said. “It was bad basketball. The team had an off night. Kevin just needed someone to blame.”

  Brandon tried to smile, but couldn’t. The Clovers weren’t the best team, but they’d never played that poorly before. Ever.

  Why is wa
lking under ladders supposed to be bad luck anyway? Brandon wondered. He shook the thought away. He wouldn’t buy into the dumb idea that he was the reason everyone had played so badly.

  It wasn’t bad luck, Brandon told himself. It was just a bad game.

  * * *

  The next day at school, Tony came up to Brandon at his locker. “Hey, man,” Tony said. “I thought I should warn you . . . Kevin is telling everyone about the ladder thing.”

  “Are you serious?” Brandon said. He opened his locker, pulled out his books, and slammed the door. “Where is he?”

  Tony pointed down the hall to where a crowd of people had gathered near the bathrooms. Brandon knew he only had a few minutes before the bell rang, so he had to be quick.

  “Uh-oh,” Kevin whispered loudly as he saw Brandon approaching. “Here comes bad-luck Brandon now!”

  Normally Brandon got along with Kevin just fine, but things were getting out of hand.

  “Real cool, Kevin,” Brandon said, shaking his head. He saw a few of the people in the crowd laughing and smirking.

  “Sorry, Brandon,” Kevin said with a goofy grin. “I’m just telling the truth. Everyone wondered how we lost the game by so many points.”

  “So you’re blaming me for the loss?” Brandon said. “You missed practically every pass that came your way. That wasn’t much help.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not the one who walked under the ladder,” Kevin said. “You are.”

  Brandon shook his head. He knew Kevin was superstitious, but this was nuts.

  “Maybe your socks didn’t stink enough for us to win,” Brandon said. He knew it wasn’t the nicest thing to say, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t about to take all the blame for last night’s loss.

  “We were doing fine this season until you pulled that dumb stunt,” Kevin told him. “My good-luck socks had nothing to do with it.”

  “Doing fine?” Brandon repeated. “We lose two out of every three games!”

  But no one seemed to care that he was right. Kevin shrugged and walked away. The crowd dispersed along with him. Apparently everyone was all too happy to blame Brandon.

  Just then, the warning bell rang signaling that class was about to start. Great, Brandon thought as he turned and took off down the hall. First I get bad-mouthed, and now I’m going to be late too.

  As he approached the classroom door, the vice principal’s voice suddenly boomed down the hallway after him.

  “Young man!” Mr. Brent called. “I’m going to need you to come back here!”

  “You have to be kidding me,” Brandon said. He was less than three feet from his classroom door. But as everyone knew, Mr. Brent was a stickler for safety and hated running in the halls.

  Brandon turned and smiled. “Sorry, Mr. Brent,” he called. “I was running late.”

  “The late part isn’t my problem,” Mr. Brent replied. “But I could see you were running. Now that I have a problem with.”

  Brandon knew he wasn’t going to get off that easy. He turned and walked slowly back down the hall to where the vice principal stood waiting.

  “That, sir, is more like it,” Mr. Brent said. “Now, let’s see you walk to class properly.”

  Brandon nodded. “Okay,” he said. “But now I’m definitely going to be late.”

  Mr. Brent nodded. As he did, the bell rang, making Brandon officially tardy for biology class.

  Brandon turned and walked to his classroom at a regular pace. He glanced over his shoulder at the halfway point to see if Mr. Brent was still watching. He was.

  As he entered the classroom, his biology teacher raised her eyebrows at his tardiness and jotted something in her notebook.

  Brandon mumbled an apology and took the only seat left at the front of the classroom. Great, he thought. More bad luck. Just what I need.

  CHAPTER 3

  PRACTICALLY PRACTICE

  Brandon’s day didn’t get any better as it went on. A cloud of bad luck seemed to hover over him. He’d forgotten his lunch at home, he managed to lose his homework, and his shirt got snagged on his seat in math class and ripped. Worst of all, everyone looked at him like he was a walking curse.

  By the end of the day, practicing for the Clovers’ final game was the last thing Brandon wanted to do. In the locker room, he plopped down on a bench and put his head in his hands.

  “Having a bad day?” Jeff asked, taking a seat next to him.

  “The worst,” Brandon said. “Either Kevin’s bad luck stuff is really getting to me or it’s true.”

  Jeff bounced a basketball on the locker room floor. “I keep telling you it’s not about luck, man,” he said. “But now that Kevin has managed to get in your head, you’ll think everything bad that happens is because of the whole ladder thing.”

  Brandon thought about it. Maybe Jeff was right. Things went wrong all the time, with or without some goofy superstition.

  “Okay,” Brandon said, forcing himself to smile. “I’ll try not to let it get to me.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Jeff said. As he headed to the gym, Jeff called back over his shoulder, “Brandon! Watch out for that black cat!”

  “Dude, not funny,” Brandon said following after his friend. But he couldn’t help but smile. He knew Jeff was just trying to cheer him up.

  “Yeah, it kind of was,” Jeff said as he ran out onto the court. “Let’s do this, Clovers!”

  * * *

  At first, practice wasn’t that bad. Kevin didn’t say anything about Brandon being bad luck, and even though Brandon wanted to demand an apology, he decided to drop it. Maybe if they had a decent practice, everyone would let it go.

  The Clovers started off running drills. Coach Hanson had mapped out the defense they could expect the Edison Wildcats to run in the next game and set up a few offensive plays to work around it.

  At one point, Jeff drove down the court into what was supposed to be the Wildcats’ zone and passed the ball off to Drew, one of the forwards. Without missing a beat, Drew dribbled, pivoted, and faked to the basket.

  When an opposing player jumped up to block the shot, Drew fired a bounce pass to the other side of the key. Brandon quickly scooped it up and dropped the ball through the net for a quick two points.

  “Nice!” Coach Hanson shouted. “Good work, guys! This sure isn’t the same team I saw the other day! Let’s do it again!”

  Brandon high fived Drew and Jeff.

  “See?” Jeff said. “It’s not bad luck, it’s just better basketball.”

  Even Kevin seemed to be in a better mood. Probably because everyone was so totally focused on the upcoming game. If they won, it would be the Clovers’ first chance to compete in the play-offs in years.

  “Watch your guy, Tony!” Coach Hanson yelled. “When he moves, you stay with him. Never mind the ball!”

  The Clovers spread out, playing man-to-man defense. Brandon watched as Kevin got into position for the opposing team’s offensive drive down court, and the ball started moving.

  Stephen, one of the opposing forwards, tried to pass the ball to his teammate, Charlie. Brandon stepped forward to intercept the pass and ended up throwing a shoulder into Tony. Tony reached out to steady himself and ended up knocking them both to the ground. They stood up just in time to watch Charlie drive the ball through their broken defense and into the net for an easy lay-up.

  “You okay?” Brandon asked. He watched Tony limp off on his already tweaked ankle. They sent Pete in to replace Tony. As soon as Pete got to the court, he started in.

  “Do me a favor, Brandon,” Pete said, “stay away from me, okay? I heard ­—”

  “Don’t even start,” Brandon interrupted. “We ran into each other. It was an accident.”

  “Seems like accidents happen to you more than anybody,” Pete muttered.

  Once the clock started again, Drew threw the
ball in to Jeff, who dribbled down court and slowed near the top of the key. He fired a pass to Kevin, who drove along the left side, looking for an opening. Brandon juked and faked out his defender to open himself up for a pass. Even though Kevin saw him open, he turned and bounced the ball back to Jeff.

  Fantastic, Brandon thought. One slip-up and now he thinks I’m cursed again.

  Jeff turned as an opposing player lunged for a steal. He managed to keep the ball and moved toward the basket. Two more defenders moved in, forcing Jeff to pass the ball back to Brandon.

  With a clear shot at the basket, Brandon jumped and let the ball fly. It hit the rim and bounced back, letting Charlie pick up the rebound. Suddenly, all of the lights in the gym went out, blanketing the whole court in darkness.

  “Seriously?” Brandon said. All around him, he could hear his teammates bumping into each other in the darkness. Shoes squeaked as they tripped, and someone let out a loud yelp as he hit the ground.

  Coach Hanson opened one of the side doors that lead out to the soccer field. It cast a bright rectangle of light into the gym. “Let your eyes adjust, guys,” Coach shouted. “Don’t move until you can see. We don’t need anyone else knocked around.”

  As Brandon headed toward the light, he saw Kevin walking toward to him. Drew was close behind, rubbing his head. Tony limped after them.

  “Just a coincidence, right, Brandon?” Kevin asked. “The lights just happened to shut off after you blew that shot.”

  Brandon didn’t say anything. Maybe Kevin’s right, he thought. Maybe I really am bad luck. And if that’s true, I have a decision to make.

  CHAPTER 4

  MISSING OUT

  Most of the time, Brandon hated lying. He knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. But there were times when bending the truth a little bit was best for everyone.

  Not that that makes doing it any easier, Brandon thought as he stood outside Coach Hanson’s office the next day, trying to work up the nerve to go inside. He knew he needed to tell the coach he couldn’t play in Friday’s game. It was as simple as that.