Center Court Sting Page 3

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Gary is eight years old,” Judy said, with ice in her voice. “Eight-year-olds aren’t usually great athletes yet. They have small hands, and they can’t use them like bigger kids. Older kids ought to know that.

  “I don’t know exactly what you said, but Gary looked up to you, and you really hurt his feelings. I hope you’re satisfied. Thanks a lot!”

  There was a loud bang in Daren’s ear as Judy slammed down the phone.

  Daren hung up and lay down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

  Why was everybody giving him a hard time? It wasn’t his fault the kid couldn’t play basketball, but Judy, just like everyone else today, had to point the finger at him!

  6

  We can beat these guys,” said Coach Michaels to the Rangers sitting around him in the locker room. The game would start in a few minutes. “But against the Blazers, we have to play our best defense. Keep your heads in the game, and help one another on the court! Their big threat is Don Spratt. He can hit outside or get loose inside. Daren will guard him, but give him help. Try to keep Spratt under wraps.”

  “Right,” Lou Bettman whispered just loud enough for Daren to hear. “Daren needs all the help he can get.”

  Daren heard him but kept quiet. With the threat of being benched hanging over his head, he was trying to do what the coach wanted and hadn’t hassled Lou in days. Lou didn’t seem to care.

  “Okay,” said the coach. “Take a minute, and think about what you have to do.” He walked into his office.

  Once he was gone, Daren stood to warm up his legs. But he stopped in mid-stretch when he heard an angry voice snap, “Lay off Daren, Lou. Keep your mind on the game.”

  Daren was surprised to recognize the voice as Lynn’s. Lynn, who never lost his temper!

  Shawn Howe jumped up to face Lynn. “Mind your own business,” he said. “Daren’s been on Lou’s case all season.”

  Lynn took a step toward Shawn. “Guess you’d rather rag on Daren than win this game, huh? Real smart, Howe.”

  “Will you cut it out?” demanded Peter Stuber, a Ranger reserve guard. “Give it a rest, okay? We’re sick of it. I am, anyway.”

  That shut everyone up. Daren gave Lynn a “thanks anyway” look, then went to his locker for his lucky towel. He’d had the old towel, with his initials written on it in marking pen, for years. He kept it next to him on the bench during every game. Usually it was in his locker before a game, but today it wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

  “Andy!” Daren yelled. “Yo, Higgins!”

  The manager’s face peered out from behind a row of lockers. “Yeah?”

  “Where’s my lucky towel?” Daren demanded.

  Andy stared at him. “Isn’t it there?”

  Daren rolled his eyes. “If it was here, would I ask you where it was, Sherlock?”

  “Uh… I guess not…” Andy blinked and looked around. “I don’t know, Daren. Sorry.”

  “Wonderful,” Daren said. “Great, Andy. All you have to do is take care of the towels, and you can’t even do that right.”

  “That’s not so! I have lots of stuff to —”

  “Oh, forget it.” Daren turned away in disgust, leaving Andy standing there.

  Coach Michaels came out of his office. “Okay, Rangers, let’s go.” He led the team onto the gym floor, where they got a cheer from their home fans. As they warmed up, Daren tried not to think about the missing lucky towel.

  During the early part of the game, Daren didn’t need luck. He had the hot hand, and Lynn found him and snapped sharp, accurate passes in his direction. On the few times Daren missed the basket, Lou boxed out the Blazer center, Toby Flynn, and hit the rebound. Lou was looking more like his old self, controlling the boards, and the Rangers were tough — at least on offense.

  But the Blazers were also scoring. Don Spratt was quick — so quick that Daren’s shorter legs simply couldn’t keep up.

  To make things more difficult, the Blazers were the best passers that Daren had ever played against. They had the ball all over the place, using bounce passes, crisp chest passes, and even the occasional long bomb. All the while, Spratt dodged and feinted, moving in and out and across the key. When Spratt got loose, as he did almost every time the Blazers were on offense, a teammate would get him the ball and he’d lay it up or sink a high-arching jump shot.

  Daren was frustrated. Try as he might, he always seemed to be one step behind Spratt. His frustration mounted when Coach Michaels put Shawn in to try to do better. Shawn was taller than Daren, but not as quick, and Spratt kept scoring. Shawn picked up three fouls right away and had to come out.

  Back on the court, Daren vowed to do better. On their first offensive move down the court, he sneaked inside on the baseline. Cris Campbell saw him and fired a perfect bounce pass past the Blazer defenders. Daren moved to put it up right away. But just as he released the ball, he saw Don Spratt take off for the other basket, which distracted him for just a fraction of a second. His shot missed. Bucky Manning, the Blazer point guard, snagged the rebound and threw a long baseball-type pass to Spratt, who was all alone underneath to score.

  At halftime, Daren was gasping, and the Blazers had a two-point lead. Daren couldn’t remember ever working harder in a game. Though he had some points, Spratt had scored more. Just as the coach had anticipated, it was going to take more than one player to keep Spratt in check.

  Daren walked by Lou, who was slumped in front of his locker, wiping his face with a towel, then stopped.

  “Why don’t you double-team Spratt?” Daren snapped. “Coach said to help on defense. If you would block his driving lane, he wouldn’t —”

  “Is it my fault your man is scoring? I have my own man to guard,” Lou answered. “Don’t blame me!”

  Daren sneered. “You don’t care if we win or lose, just so I’m the one who looks bad. Right?”

  “Are you two at it again?” a voice barked behind them. Daren and Lou looked up and saw Coach Michaels, a hard look on his face. “Team meeting. Now. And leave your argument behind.”

  7

  Coach Michaels whistled sharply to quiet the rest of his players. “I don’t have to tell you that Don Spratt is doing most of the damage so far,” he said. He shot a look at Lou. “And let’s get something clear: I don’t want anyone blaming Daren. Spratt does this to every team in the league. He’s good at getting free to shoot — it’s that simple. But we need to stop him to win today, and here’s a way we could do it.”

  Using the chalkboard, the coach showed how the Rangers needed to collapse on Spratt, hemming him in and making it tough for the Blazers to get him the ball. Coach Michaels explained that Daren’s job in the second half would be to stay between Spratt and the basket, while the other Rangers would stay between Spratt and the ball, wherever it was on the court. Maybe that would slow down the star forward and let the Rangers get control of the game.

  “Rangers, huddle up.” All the Rangers formed a circle and stuck a hand into the middle. The coach placed his hands on top. “This is our game to win. If we play like a team, we will win! Make these guys earn their points! Remember, defend with your legs as well as your arms! I don’t want to see you waving your arms as a Blazer goes by you. You have to keep moving, block the lanes, know where the ball is, and keep your heads in the game! Ready to get ‘em?”

  “Yeah!” they shouted in chorus.

  The coach clapped. “All right! Let’s go!”

  As the second half began, the coach’s strategy looked good. The Blazers tried to force passes to Spratt, but the Rangers picked them off and turned the interceptions into baskets, giving themselves a two-point lead. The Blazer coach jumped up and called time out.

  “All right!” said Coach Michaels on the sideline. “Tough D! They’re out of sync!”

  But in the time-out, the Blazers made changes of their own. On their next possession, Blazer guard Bucky Manning took advantage of the fact that the Rangers were cluster
ed around Don Spratt and not guarding their own men closely. With no one on him, the little guard hit a jumper from behind the foul line to tie the game.

  On the following Ranger possession, Lynn got the ball to Lou. Lou missed a close shot that Blazer Toby Flynn rebounded. This time, Lynn picked Bucky up outside and stayed on top of him. But Bucky faked left, drove to his right around Lynn, and hit a layup.

  The Rangers put the ball in play. Lynn passed to Lou under the basket. Instead of shooting or passing, Lou tried to get closer to the basket — and was called for walking. Bucky tossed the inbounds pass to Toby Flynn, who gave it back. Manning raced down the court and, when Lynn came up to head him off, fired a bullet pass to Don Spratt. With Daren in his face, Spratt wheeled and made a beautiful hook shot. Two more points! The Blazers were ahead by four.

  It seemed like whatever the Rangers tried to do, the Blazers stayed one step ahead of them. When they concentrated on Spratt, Bucky Manning took over, hitting from outside, driving, or getting the ball to Toby Flynn under the basket. If they eased up on Don and spread their defense out, Bucky would find the tall forward with a sharp pass.

  Lou looked like his feet were weighed down with cement. He stopped getting rebounds, and Toby Flynn, who wasn’t much of a shooter, got a few baskets. Daren cooled off in the second half and couldn’t seem to hit anything at all.

  Only Lynn’s play kept the game from becoming a total disaster. He was all over the floor, stealing passes, scoring, and making assists. Daren thought that Lynn had never looked better — but it was in a losing cause.

  Even with Lynn’s heroics, the Rangers trailed by twelve with five minutes left. Don Spratt took a pass from Bucky and whirled to shoot. Daren jumped with him, right arm extended. He deflected the shot, touching nothing but ball. When the ref blew his whistle, Daren spun around to stare in disbelief.

  “Number four, defense — on the arm,” said the ref. “Two shots.”

  Before Daren could scream, Lynn grabbed him. “Dar, chill! No technicals!”

  Daren let his breath out and nodded to Lynn, who smiled. “You’re my man,” Lynn said.

  “Yeah,” Daren said. But he was mad. He knew that he had been robbed again.

  Don Spratt made the free throws, and Coach Michaels called time out.

  “It’s not over yet,” he reminded his team. “There’s time for us to get back into it. One or two quick baskets could still turn it around. The main thing is not to give up or lose your composure. Just play your game.”

  But Daren felt that the Rangers were beaten. They weren’t together. He had lost his touch, Lou was sleepwalking, and nobody could stop the Blazer scoring machine. It wasn’t their day. Lynn couldn’t beat these guys all by himself. The crowd, which had cheered loudly for the Rangers most of the game, grew quiet, and some people got up to leave. They, too, seemed to know that there would be no miracle comeback.

  With three minutes to go, the Blazer coach took out his starters and cleared his bench. They were up by eighteen, and he wanted the subs to get some playing time.

  Against the subs, the Rangers cut into the lead. At the final buzzer, the Blazer margin of victory was eleven. But the Rangers knew it hadn’t really been that close. They had been blown out — and on their home court, too.

  Daren walked off the floor with the silent Rangers. He hated to lose any game, but this one was especially embarrassing. Shaking his head, he walked toward his locker — and stopped short, staring in shock.

  Taped to his locker door was a towel — his lucky towel. But he almost didn’t recognize it because it was smeared with red paint. A sign with red lettering was pinned to it.

  It said, IT TAKES MORE THAN LUCK TO BE A DECENT PLAYER. MAYBE YOU SHOULD STICK TO USING A PAINTBRUSH INSTEAD OF A BASKETBALL.

  8

  Daren ripped the towel off the door and marched toward Lou, who was sitting by his locker. He threw the towel on the floor in front of him.

  “You think this is funny?” he yelled.

  Lou looked at the towel and then back at Daren. “What are you talking about?” he asked, with a puzzled expression.

  “You know what I’m talking about!” Daren kicked the towel down the aisle. “Is this how you get back at me for painting those shoes — which I didn’t do, anyway?”

  Lynn hurried over. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  Daren picked up the towel, waved it at Lynn, and read the message out loud. “I found this hanging on my locker! It’s Lou’s idea of a joke!”

  Lynn looked at Lou, who shook his head. “Hey, I didn’t do it. Don’t look at me!”

  Daren laughed. “Yeah, sure! I know you’ve had it in for me for a long time, and —”

  “I’ve had it in for you!” Lou looked amazed. “You’ve been on my case for weeks! You never miss a chance to take a shot at me! And then you ruined a good pair of shoes —”

  “I told you, I didn’t do that!” Daren was raging. “And I only ride you when you screw up in a game. Which is, like, all the time!”

  Lynn tried to get between Daren and Lou, but Daren pushed him aside.

  Shawn ran up. “I told you to cut it out,” he said to Daren.

  “Shawn’s right,” said Peter Stuber at his locker. “Daren runs his mouth too much, and not just at Lou. I mean, he’s not Michael Jordan!”

  “Lou played bad today,” Cris snapped, getting in on the quarrel. “We all know it. He’s been terrible for a long time now!”

  Suddenly every Ranger was yelling, some defending Lou and some taking Daren’s side. A few just wanted everyone to shut up and chill. Voices got louder, and feelings got uglier.

  The coach came out of his office, looked at the yelling players, and shouted, “Listen up, all of you! QUIET!!”

  The noise stopped. Coach Michaels sighed and began pacing back and forth. “I don’t get it,” he said quietly. “I really don’t.”

  Daren felt his anger dissolve. The other Rangers seemed to feel the same way.

  The coach went on softly, as if he didn’t have the energy to yell anymore. “At the start of the season, we had a shot at the title. Now, today, we got blown out — not because the Blazers are so much better, but because they played better. They moved the ball and played team D. They knew what to do and did it.

  “Now here you are, yelling at each other.” He saw the towel by Daren’s locker, picked it up, and read the message. He sighed.

  “We play the Rebels next, the team with the best record in the league. They have Drew Capp, who’s six-foot-two and owns the boards. They have Tony Tisdale, the league’s top scorer. If you can’t get it together, we may as well not bother to show up.”

  No one spoke. “Lou, Daren, stay here,” said the coach. “You others, get some rest.”

  Lynn nudged Daren. “See you outside.”

  Daren nodded. He saw Shawn speak to Lou, who shook his head angrily. Shawn whispered more, but Lou said, “No!”

  “Guys,” the coach said, “in my office.”

  Shawn walked away, looking unhappy.

  The players took seats, and the coach sat on a corner of his desk. “I try not to get mixed up in your off-court lives. But when it hurts the team, I want to clear it up. Talk to me.”

  “Well, I didn’t put that thing on Daren’s locker, no matter what he says,” Lou insisted.

  “I didn’t paint those shoes,” said Daren. “I may talk a lot, but I wouldn’t mess up someone’s stuff. No matter what he says.”

  “Okay,” Coach Michaels said. “So, neither of you did anything to each other. Can you agree and put this behind us?”

  Lou frowned. “Well…”

  Daren shrugged. “I don’t know…”

  The coach stood. “Daren, wait outside for a moment.”

  Daren left the office, certain that Lou still blamed him for the shoes. Just as he knew that Lou had ruined his lucky towel. Who else would do it?

  A minute later, Lou came out of the office and left without speaking.

  Coach M
ichaels poked his head through the office door and beckoned.

  “Like I said before, I don’t think you painted those shoes,” he said. Daren smiled. “And I don’t think Lou trashed your towel. It’s not like him.”

  “But he must have!” Daren protested.

  “Funny, Lou said the same about you just now,” said the coach. “But that’s not the main problem here. I’ve coached for a long time. I’ve had great teams and not-great teams. But no team ever let grudges hurt their game. I don’t know what to do. I’m stumped.”

  “It’s not all my fault,” Daren exclaimed.

  “No,” the coach agreed. “But — now hear me out, and don’t get angry — you have a way of saying hurtful things, Daren. Maybe you don’t even know how much they hurt, but they do. You definitely tend to throw fuel on the fire.”

  Daren felt resentful. Coach Michaels was blaming all the team’s problems on him!

  “I can see by the look on your face that you think I’m out to get you,” the coach went on. “But I’m not. No one is. But I want you to try to see what can happen when you’re always putting people down. They remember and may look for payback. Then maybe a friend of yours decides to get that person back, and one little incident snowballs.

  “When I talk to you about it, you get this look, like you’re being made the fall guy. The bottom line is, you have to learn to control your temper and not say hurtful things. I’m your coach, and I thought that meant something. But maybe it doesn’t, because I don’t seem to be able to get through to you.”

  “But —,” Daren began. The coach held up a hand.

  “I don’t want to hear explanations of why it’s not your fault.” Coach Michaels folded his arms. “I hate to say this, Daren, but I don’t feel I have a choice. If you can’t control your moods and outbursts, right away, I’ll do one of two things: Either I’ll bench you and use you as a sub, or I’ll have to take you off the team altogether.”

  9

  Lynn was waiting for Daren outside. “How was it?” asked Lynn. “What’d he say?”