Basketball Sparkplug Page 4
Kim stared. “Already?” His heart sank.
The second play-off game was on Thursday night. Couldn’t Mrs. Kelsey have practice some other night besides Thursday?
But Mrs. Kelsey was not a person to change a date once she had made plans for it.
Kim knew how much the choir meant to Mrs. Kelsey. He knew Mrs. Kelsey would want him very much to be there. But that wasn’t all. His mother would want him to be there too.
“Are you still there, Kim?” Mrs. Kelsey asked.
Kim laughed. “Yes, I am, Mrs. Kelsey. Okay. I’ll be at the church Thursday night. Good night, Mrs. Kelsey.”
“Thank you. And good night, Kim.”
“Who was that?” asked Mrs. O’Connor after Kim had hung up.
“Mrs. Kelsey,” said Kim. “We’re having choir practice Thursday night.”
Mrs. O’Connor’s brows arched. “Isn’t that the night the Arrows are playing their second play-off game?”
“Yes, Mom,” said Kim.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to practice.”
His mother’s face brightened. Her eyes filled with warmth. She ruffled Kim’s hair and smiled.
On Wednesday, after school, Kim went to Coach Stickles’s house. He was scared. He felt sure the coach would not like it when he heard that Kim would not be able to play in Thursday night’s game.
Mrs. Stickles opened the door. She was a small dark-haired woman with sparkling blue eyes.
“Hello, Kim!” she said.
“Is Coach Stickles in?” Kim asked nervously.
“Yes, he is. Come in.”
Coach Stickles was sitting in the living room. He smiled at Kim, got up, and shook Kim’s hand.
“This is a surprise, Kim,” he said. “Sit down. What’s on your mind?”
Kim sat down. He was so frightened of what the coach might say that he held one hand tight in the other.
“I can’t play basketball Thursday night, Coach,” he said finally.
Coach Stickles frowned. “Why not, Kim?”
“I’ve got choir practice,” Kim replied. “It’s special for Easter Sunday. I’d a lot like to play in that game, Coach, but I think I should be at that rehearsal. I—I thought I’d tell you.”
Kim looked up. He was squeezing his hand tighter than ever now.
The coach said nothing for a long while. He looked at Mrs. Stickles, and then at Kim. Suddenly a broad smile spread across his face.
“Kim,” he said, “as much as I should like to have you play, I’m glad you chose to practice with your choir.”
Kim’s eyes widened. “You—you mean you’re not mad?”
“Mad? Not at all, Kim. I know how much you’d like to play in that second play-off game. It takes a lot of, well—courage—to make the decision you made. Matter of fact, I’m kind of proud of you for it.”
Kim’s eyes shone. He had never dreamed that the coach would say things like that!
“Thanks, Coach!” he said.
On Thursday night Kim went to choir rehearsal. Mrs. Kelsey and all the boys and girls were happy to see him. They knew he had chosen to sing with them instead of playing basketball.
The moment Kim began to sing he became happy too. The voices around him were like the rays of the sun warming his heart. He enjoyed the rehearsal so much he never minded at all that he had not played basketball that night.
The following day he found out that the Seals had won the game. They had beaten the Arrows 38 to 29.
Kim had only one good feeling about that. The Arrows and the Seals would tangle again Saturday, and he would be in the game.
19
THE last and important game was on Saturday. The Arrows met the Seals again on the same court. And what a crowd! The place was jammed!
“Guess who I saw sitting in the stands?” Ron said to Kim.
“Who?” asked Kim.
“Mrs. Kelsey!”
Kim stared. “Mrs. Kelsey?” He turned to look, but among all the hundreds of faces he couldn’t spot hers. “I didn’t think she cared for basketball,” he said curiously.
The game got off to a fast start. The Seals drew first blood, but the Arrows came right back and scored two baskets one after the other. They were hot. By the end of the first quarter they had run their score up to 13, six ahead of the Seals.
The second quarter was a little different. The Arrows still kept the lead, but the half ended with the scoreboard showing ARROWS—23, SEALS—19.
The third quarter started with Jerry Jordan in place of Jimmie Burdette, and Dutchie McBride in place of Kim.
Before the quarter ended, the coach put Kim and Jimmie in. The game was getting closer every second. Both teams were playing tight ball, throwing passes carefully, taking shots only when they were near their basket.
By the middle of the fourth quarter the score was tied, 37 to 37.
Time was called. Coach Stickles walked out onto the court and talked with his boys.
“Don’t be nervous,” he said. “Just play the best you can. You’re doing fine. I’m proud of every one of you.”
He paused. “When there are only two minutes left to play, try some long shots. But still use two hands. And remember—win or lose—you boys, are still my team. Good luck!”
He turned and walked off the court.
The boys looked at each other.
“There’s one great guy,” Jimmie said.
“I hate to let him down,” said Kim.
“If you practiced more with us, instead of with that choir,” broke in Ron Tikula, “maybe we wouldn’t have it so tough.”
“Cut it out,” snapped Jimmie. “This is no time to talk like that.”
Ron slapped Kim lightly on the leg. He laughed. “Oh, heck, I’m only kidding.”
The time-in whistle blew.
The Seals took out the ball. They passed it upcourt.
Ron leaped in and tried to take the ball away from a Seal guard. He was a little rough. He pushed the guard. The referee blew his whistle.
Foul!
The Seal was allowed one shot. He took his time—made it.
The Seals went ahead, 38 to 37.
The Seals’ rooters cheered.
Kim looked at the clock. One and a half minutes to go!
All at once a song rose from the Arrows’ rooters’ side of the gym—a song from the throats of ten to fifteen boys and girls, led by a woman whose high soprano voice Kim recognized immediately.
We came to see the Arrows win!
Arrows win! Arrows win!
We came to see the Arrows win,
And carry home the tro-phy!
Hip-hip! Hooray!
Hip-hip! Hooray!
Hip-hip! Hooray!
Kim looked up at the sea of sparkling faces. A flock of white hands rose and waved at him.
Kim’s face brightened. Imagine Mrs. Kelsey and the choir doing that for the Arrows! Who would have thought—
Kim turned his attention back to the game.
Jordan took the ball out for the Arrows. He bounced it to Ron. Ron passed to Kim. Kim wanted to pass, but all his teammates were well guarded.
He dribbled down-court. All at once he was trapped. Seals surrounded him.
Then he saw a figure in blue running clear of the others. It was Allan. Kim leaped, snapped the ball. Allan caught it.
In an instant the Seals swarmed around Allan. Kim knew there were only seconds left to go in the game. Breathlessly he raced down the side line.
Allan held the ball high, pivoting on one foot, while he looked for a free man to throw the ball to.
Like a bolt of lightning, Kim swooped in front of his man. Allan whipped the ball to him.
Kim caught it, dribbled toward the basket. But he couldn’t shoot. Two Seals got in front of him, jumping around him so fast they seemed to be all arms and legs.
There wasn’t much time. Only seconds—
Kim whirled, then leaped off the floor. At the same time he turned his
shoulder so that he faced the basket.
He spotted Allan beyond the basket, waving his right arm. Kim shot the ball to him. Allan caught it, leaped for the basket, and with one hand tried a layup.
The ball banked against the backboard, and arched down through the net!
Scarcely had the ball dropped into a Seal player’s hands, when the whistle blew, announcing the end of the game!
The Arrows had won the Small Fry Basketball Championship, 39 to 38!
The Arrows’ fans screamed lustily. Kim saw Mrs. Kelsey and the choir and the whole Arrows’ rooting section standing on their feet and waving their arms with joy. He saw his mother and father too, and Aunt Carol, Uncle Jim, and Barbara Mae. They were standing and cheering their hearts out.
Kim choked. Boy! he thought. Oh, boy!
Coach Stickles shook Kim’s hand in the dressing room.
“I won’t say that without you the Arrows cannot win a game, Kim,” he said, “but this I’m sure of: We would not have won the game tonight without the choir. They sure gave us the help we needed.”
Kim could only smile.
After both teams showered and dressed, they were invited for supper at the Markson Hotel. The commissioner of the league gave a speech, and said that next week a banquet would be held in honor of the champion Arrows. At that time the trophy would be given to them, and to each Arrow player an award pin.
“And you runners-up, the Seals, are invited too,” the commissioner added, smiling. “You boys played a wonderful game. Until the very last second nobody really knew who was going to win. So, for each one of you, an award pin also.”
That made the Seals feel pretty good. They just smiled at each other. But the Arrows, to show their appreciation, clapped and cheered for them.
Ron was sitting on Kim’s left. After the commissioner sat down, Ron leaned toward Kim and said, “You know who should be given a pin too?”
Kim frowned. “Who?”
“That choir you’re in. If they hadn’t been there, maybe we wouldn’t have won!”
For a moment Kim thought Ron was poking fun at him and the choir again.
But the longer he looked at Ron, the more certain he was that Ron meant every word he said. Kim could tell by Ron’s eyes, and the serious smile on Ron’s lips.
That night, when Kim got off the bus near his house, Ron shouted out, “Good night, Kimmy, pal! See you tomorrow!”
Kim knew then that Ron would not make fun of him any more.
As he headed for the front porch, where a light was burning for him, a tune popped into Kim’s mind. And then suddenly he began singing:
We came to see the Arrows win!
Arrows win! Arrows win!
We came to see the Arrows win,
And carry home the tro-phy!
Kim wanted to play basketball. He was a good player, too. But sometimes he didn’t keep his mind on the game very well, and sometimes he made mistakes that disgusted the other boys on the Arrows’ team.
The trouble was that Kim didn’t practice as much as the others. Instead he took singing lessons and sang in the choir. Some of the boys kidded him about that; in fact, they were presore about it and blamed Kim when Arrows lost. No wonder it was he for Kim to do his best.
How Kim managed to combine two things he liked to do is told plenty of basketball action in
BASKETBALL SPARKPLUG
by MATT CHRISTOPHER
author of THE LUCKY BASEBALL BAT
and BASEBALL PALS
Illustrated by Ken Wagner
Jimmie was the captain, and he wanted to be the pitcher. So he made himself the pitcher. He was surprised when his friend Paul, who was a good pitcher, decided to play with the Red Rockets rather than play center field for the Planets, Jimmie’s team.
Jimmie intended to be a smart pitcher, throwing a lot of hooks, striking men out like anything. He was cross when the other boys told him he was no pitcher—he should let Paul pitch. And he was both hurt and mad when is kid brother Ervie plainly was uncomfortable about the way his hero, Jimmie, was acting.
Then Jimmie couldn’t find the plate. And practice didn’t seem to help. What were the Planets to do, with a wild pitcher, and the first game of the Grasshopper League season coming up? Here is the story of what Jimmie did for the team, and for himself, in
BASEBALL PALS
By MATT CHRISTOPHER
author of THE LUCKY BASEBALL BAT
Illustrated by Robert Henneberger
MATT
CHRISTOPHER
Starts His Sons Early
Sports have always been Matt Christopher’ first interest next to writing. He has played both Professional and semiprofessional baseball. In THE LUCKY BASEBALL BAT, in BASEBALL PALS and in TWO STRIKES ON JOHNNY the author wanted to tell stories not only about baseball, but about real boys who will be remembered. His aim was the same in BASKETBALL SPARKPLUG, and his basketball is just as lively as his baseball.
Mr. Christopher is married and now lives in Ithaca, New York. The Christophers have four children—three boys, Martin, Dale, and Duane, and a girl, Pamela Jean.