by Phil Wohl
Glenn Jenkins walked into the locker room with Ross Parker, and said, "These cats are crazy!" To which Parker muttered to himself, "Crazy like a fox."
The chanting lasted for a good 20 minutes as parents and even Barry Melnick strained their vocal chords. The sleepy town had let loose like a dormant volcano finally erupting. It was a great couple of years to be a West Valley basketball player and fan. It was a great couple of years to be Pete Berman.
Pete took a quick shower and walked back onto the floor with Adam Baum. The two best friends hadn't talked much lately, but Adam knew what Pete was thinking.
"This place was rocking," Adam said. "Might not be a bad place to spend the next four years."
The two guys looked at each other, and spoke simultaneously.
"Nah."
Looking down on the court from the coach’s office was Ross Parker. As Adam walked through the doors of the gymnasium, Pete turned back for one last look. The tall, almost preacher-like figure of Ross Parker caught his eye and he nodded at the knowing coach, and then walked out of East City College.
Barry Melnick joined Isabel, the Berman's, the Baum's, and the Plotkin's for a post-game meal at the West Valley Diner. Melnick had driven with Lou Berman on the way to pick up Pete at the school. Pete stared at the passing lights on the bus-ride from the game to West Valley High School. The bus was very quiet on account of the team being completely drained. Ron McNally had an ice pack on his eye and Chris Harrington was also icing a swollen lip. Pete couldn't believe his high school career was over, but was relieved to have made it through in such dramatic fashion. It was time to move up another level, which was a thought shared by Lou and Barry while they sat a few minutes waiting for Pete.
"What would you have done differently to win that game?" questioned Lou Berman.
"The first thing I would have done was keep the ball out of Sullivan's hands, and bench anyone that didn't pass to Pete."
Lou smiled and said, "You're pretty good at this recruiting thing."
"No, actually I'm not. When you have a 95% foul shooter and a bunch of sub-70% shooters, the decision is pretty easy. Why was Ross Parker shaking his head when Pete fouled out?"
"When Pete was nine, he was on an all-star team that played a Helmsdale team coached by Parker. Our team was down one, so I basically instructed the team to give the ball to Pete and get the hell out of the way. In those days Pete was a point guard, so he dribbled the length of the court, pulled up and drained a 12-foot jumper. The referee blew his whistle, and then called off the basket with an offensive foul. It was a hometown call at best."
"Wow. I never heard that story."
Lou added, "Parker's been coming to West Valley home games for the last few years, too."
"That, I knew. The East City program's at least a few years away."
"So is yours," Lou challenged.
"Maybe, maybe not. That's entirely up to your son," Barry said while making eye contact with Lou as they sat at a red light.
"When you were in high school, did you have a tough decision?"
"No. To me it was a no-brainer. I had a similar decision as Pete. I could have stayed home, gone to East City and made my dad happy. Or, I could follow my gut feeling and go away to Barringer College."
"Was your decision based on coach or school?"
Barry responded, "It was definitely a package deal. First I met Coach Carver. He was a really nice man. Knew a bit about basketball, too. He then told me to visit every other school, and come to Barringer last. Mr. Berman, I'm going to give you the same piece of advice. Explore all of your options. Listen to what East City and Brookport have to say, and then come spend the day with us. I really like your son. He has so many things already up in his head that you just can't coach. He also makes everyone around him better, including the fans."
"That's fair," Lou Berman admitted. "I appreciate your honesty."
"You're welcome. At East City, he'll be a stepping stone. At Barringer, he'll be our leader. We also have a much better curriculum than E.C. It's time he started excelling in the classroom. I won’t let you, or your son, down, Mr. Berman."
"Suddenly, Coach Melnick, I don't doubt a word you say," Lou Berman said as he looked over at Barry.
Pete climbed into the back seat of the car expecting an awkward conversation. What he got was nothing short of euphoria. They were all joking and talking loudly about the game. Then Pete asked the definitive question:
"So, what do we do now?"
Lou Berman and Barry Melnick looked at each other. "Well, it seems that we are going to talk to a few people and then take a trip up to Barringer in a few weeks," Lou Berman said looking in his rear-view mirror.
Melnick added, "Eric Spalding is coming up next weekend, and hopefully we can get you up the week after."
"Spalding told me he would go to Barringer if I did," Pete stated.
Barry nodded his head, "Yeah, that's what he told me, too."
"He's a nice player," Lou interjected.
"I hear you guys clicked at the Elite 60 camp," Barry said.
Pete agreed, "Yeah, he passed me the ball and I made the shots."
Lou and Barry nodded at each other. "Yeah, we need a lot more of that," concluded Melnick.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Pete was exhausted, yet exhilarated, at school the next day. Although the team had lost at the buzzer, the student body was still charged up. A feeling of pride had blanketed a school that was new to the championship dance. The team's great run gave most of the school's teenagers a feeling of hope. Hope that their life wasn't as miserable as their surging hormones were suggesting. That there may be a chance that nobody would notice the huge zit parked in the middle of their collective nose. That if you added water to picture of a Playboy Playmate, it would come to life. That the boys would be just as mature as the girls.
Pete was sitting in one of his random high school classes, daydreaming about what Barringer College would be like. He must have looked over the team's yearbook a dozen times in the past week. His mind then transported himself into the middle of the East City University gym. The great West Valley fans were gone, and the gym was stripped down to its most essential elements. Pete looked around and noted that the gym was anything but new. In fact, it was pretty old and run down. He remembered that the locker room smelled like old, dirty socks and the pipes were rusty and dripping. The place was a relic, a tribute to good days gone by. Would they be building a new gym? The Barringer gym was built only 10 years earlier, and was equipped with many state-of-the-art-features, including carpeting, whirlpools and full weight rooms.
A knock on the door of class snapped Pete out of his self-induced haze. Mrs. Martin walked to the door and a low voice said, "Ross Parker to pick up Pete Berman." Mrs. Martin turned to the class, and said, "Pete, Coach Parker is here to see you." The knowing class booed Parker until he and Pete left the classroom. A smiling Mrs. Martin, who had attended the game, laughed and half-heartedly told the class to settle down.
Pete shook Parker's hand.
"Hey, Coach Parker. What brings you to the most hostile of environments?"
"Pete. I came over here on my lunch hour. That was a great game yesterday. Is there anywhere we can talk?"
The two started strolling down the hallway.
"Yeah, follow me."
Pete led Parker into the school's auditorium.
"This is a large space," Parker said.
"I come here a lot to think and write. It's very quiet."
"Well, I don't want to take up too much of your time. Coach Boswell wanted me to come and talk to you about East City."
"Okay."
Parker inquired, "We want to know what you think of us."
"Are you going to build a new gym?"
"No. That will take a few years at least to get approval."
"And then a few more years to buil
d?" Pete responded.
"Yes."
Pete asked, "Can we be competitive?"
"I assure you that jumping back into Division I is no small task. But I think, over time, we will be competitive."
"So, the initial group of guys will probably be just a stepping stone," Pete stated.
"I'd be lying to you if I said, no."
"Has Glenn committed yet?"
Parker nodded, "Signed on the dotted line this morning."
"What do you think about me?"
"Well, Pete. That's another story entirely. I've known you since you were a kid. I've always enjoyed watching you play. Even when you were only nine, I could tell that you would be special. You know I can't tell you where you should go, but consider these three things: school, coach, and campus. Let's start with school. East City has a great Fine Arts program. Barringer has a business curriculum that is one of the best in the country. Next. Coach. Coach Boswell, you know his record. And I'll be taking over in a couple of years.
Pete nodded in agreement, and then Parker continued.
"Coach Melnick has all of the ideas, but he needs a platform on which to execute his vision. He lights up when he's with you."
Pete asked, "Is the program and the division any good?"
"All you have to know is that Keith Reidy will be in that division. Barringer has seldom seen a winner. It's a similar situation to what you faced at West Valley. Their expectations are low..."
"So the picking is right."
"Exactly. And the final piece of the puzzle is campus. I'm afraid to say that this one is a mismatch. East City is basically a commuter school, with very little on-campus housing. Barringer was rebuilt from the ground up only 10 years ago, so everything is super nice."
"Sounds like you think I should go to Barringer," Pete said.
"You know, Pete. Selfishly, I would love to coach you. But, I had the feeling once I saw you and Coach Melnick together that fate had dealt a Royal Flush against me. I honestly think, and this is between you and me, that you would get more out of going to Barringer than East City. College is more about growing up than playing basketball. Plus, I think you would be a star and a four-year starter at Barringer. At East City, I couldn't tell you what your status would be from one year to the next. We will be aggressively recruiting guys at your position every year."
Pete’s eyebrows raised, "Wow. That's a sobering thought. Do you think I should visit any of these other Division II schools?"
"Did any of them promise you a full scholarship?"
Pete smiled, "Yeah, they all did."
"Was it always after a game?"
"Yeah, how did you know?"
"Did Coach Melnick offer you a full ride?" Parker asked.
"No."
Parker moved in closer, "You see, the scholarship shouldn't be the lure because you've more than earned the right to go to college for free. The lure is the relationship, the people, the campus. I bet Melnick wants you to visit everyone first and then come up to Barringer."
Pete smiled, "You're good at this."
"I went up to the Barringer campus a few years ago. It's really a beautiful place. Next summer, I'm going to be coaching the East City college all-star team in the New York State Games. I'd love to have the opportunity to coach you then."
Pete said, "Yeah that would be great."
The large, thin man stood up from a seat in the back row of the auditorium, extended his hand to Pete and said, "Say hello to Coach Melnick for me."
Pete nodded and said, "Good luck in the states," as Coach Parker ducked into the hallway and exited the school. Pete was glad that no one was in the hallway. He liked Ross Parker, and didn't think such a great man should be booed again the day after his team won the county championship.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
The next night, Coach Mike Baxter from The University of Brookport called Pete's house to arrange a visit. Lou Berman decided that they would make the two-hour trip on Saturday morning. Pete hadn't seen Coach Baxter since he beat Bernaqua during the regular season with a last-second shot. Pete and his dad had discussed the East City situation, including his talk with Ross Parker, and Lou was starting to come around to the Barringer side following his talks with Barry Melnick.
Brookport had made it into the Division II NCAA Championships five years prior by winning its conference championship. Baxter was a real salesman, but the school had run into some real hard times. Funding levels were down, and the team's annual scholarships were reduced from four to two. The coach had to hang his hat on that trip to the NCAA's, but realized it would only take him so far.
Pete was very curious on the ride up to Brookport. He and his parents decided to take a wait and see approach to decide where to go to school. As they drove within a few miles of the school, it became apparent that this probably would not be a jubilant day. Brookport was an industrial city, with huge pipes emitting god-knows-what out of their stacks. It didn't exactly paint a pretty picture, and would only serve to be a foreshadowing of the day’s events.
The Berman’s were very quiet as they made their way to Coach Baxter's office. In order to get to his office, they had to walk through the Dolphins' gym. The first thing that Pete thought was that a dolphin shouldn't be exposed to such conditions. The ratty bleachers probably held 1,000 light people, and the gym floor looked as if it hadn't had a coat of polyurethane since the Nixon administration. Pete couldn't wait to see Baxter's office, complete with a sign on the outside of the door that read JANITOR.
The sign on the door actually said Phys. Ed., and Lou Berman tapped lightly on the frosted glass with his huge right knuckle. Baxter's gruff voice officially welcomed the Berman family to Brookport:
"Yeah, who is it?"
The sight of Baxter almost caused Pete to do a 180 and head back to the car. He looked as if he hadn't slept, and probably stashed a bottle of Scotch in the drawer of his rusting desk. This man was obviously not at the top of his game.
The Berman's walked through the door.
"Oh, I'm sorry," said Baxter apologetically. "Pete Berman, it's good to see you again." He then said hello to mom and pop Berman. There were only two extra chairs in the room, so Pete told his parents to sit. He had a bad feeling about this, and didn't want his father to be within striking distance of the coach.
Baxter continued. "You had a good year. That is why we're willing to bring you on board here at Brookport. We're willing to offer you a half-scholarship, which is standard at most Division II schools. Although one of our players, Ricky Pigeon, didn't give us such a good report on you, we decided to make you the offer anyway.
Pete put his hand on his father's shoulder, and calmly said, "Were you at the game we played against Bernaqua?"
"Yes, I was."
"And what happened that game?"
"I believe you made a long shot to win the game."
"Good. And did you talk to me after the game?"
"Yes, I believe I did."
"And wasn't that about the time you offered me a full scholarship?"
"No, I don't believe I said that."
Pete shook his head and said, "You not only said it, but I have about six people that were there when you made the offer."
"Well, I'm, sorry if you got the wrong impression."
Lou interjected, "No, I'm sorry we drove two hours to be insulted by a two-bit con artist."
"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way."
The family started walking out. Pete looks back, "Hey Coach, do me a favor. Tell Ricky his ass is mine this summer."
Pete thought as he was walking out, "Ricky Pigeon! That vindictive jerk! He couldn't hold my jock, let alone talk crap about me!"
The family was flabbergasted on the way home. Their collective mood took a huge turn for the better when they cleared the state of Connecticut and returned to the friendly confines of New York.
They eventually concluded that Pete wouldn't have gone to Brookport, no matter what Baxter had said. So, he was doing them a favor by trying to stretch his two scholarships over four players.
The pain would be quickly dulled with a trip up to Barringer College the following Saturday. Pete felt very calm inside, like he had a gut feeling that everything was going to be all right. He spent most of the week reviewing materials Coach Melnick had sent him, while daydreaming about playing for the Bruins.
Isabel Mitchell sensed that Pete was getting close to finding a new home. With Barringer being three hours away, she was already starting to miss Pete. She knew that he loved her, but also knew that he was moving on to the next level, and she was staying home to finish her senior year. How would she survive the otherwise boring school without him? Seeing him between periods always gave her such a lift. Even if they just brushed hands on the way to the next class, that connection gave her fuel to get to the next break.
"Are you going to still love me when you go to school?" Isabel questioned Pete on their lunch hour.
"Of course, why wouldn't I?"
Isabel continued, "Because those college girls are going to be all over you."
"No they won't. They won't even notice me."
She looked at him with a stern, motherly gaze.
"It's only March. Why are you worried about this now?"
"Because it will affect me all next year." She looked down to the floor. "It's going to be lonely here without you."