EllRay Jakes Stands Tall by Sally Warner

saying“Oopsie,” but no one dares. Not with Coach on the job.
    Fwe-e-e-et! Coach’s silver whistle blows. “And—come on back and switch sides,” he hollers. “No time to lose.
Hup, hup!”
    Coach is tough, but he’s fair.
    Plurals and dribble drills in the same morning, I think as I run in place, trying to copy Corey’s mad skills as I turn in a tight circle.
Run, run, run, run, run!
    â€œNow for some bounce pass drills,” Coach says, grabbing a ball to demonstrate. He bounces the ball toward me once, and I catch it. “Good one, EllRay,” Coach says, and I feel like the sun is shining all over me. It doesn’t even matter how short I am! “Pass it on,” Coach tells me. “Hot potato. And keep those fingertips apart, don’t forget.”
    I bounce the ball toward Marco, who is standing there chewing on his lower lip.
    â€œCatch that rock,” Coach shouts at Marco. “Both hands! But don’t look at the ball, people. Look where it’s
going
. Okay, let’s get a few of ’em in the air,” he says, tossing a couple more balls into themix. “Keep ’em moving, moving, moving!” he says. “One bounce only. And no ball hogs allowed.”

    I don’t know what a ball hog is, but I can guess. And I don’t want to be one.
    â€œGood job, EllRay,” Coach calls out. “You’re onfire, kid! And you too, Kry. Way to go. Now, we’re gonna try some swats before we cool down. EllRay,” he says, turning to me. “My
man
. Throw the ball to Kevin again. Just a rapid-fire pass this time, no bounce.”
    And so I shoot the ball straight to Kevin, hoping I am doing the right thing. I keep my eye on Kevin’s hands, not on the ball. But before the ball gets to Kevin, Coach’s tree-trunk arm appears out of nowhere, and he knocks the ball out of the air—toward Jared, who catches it on the bounce.
    â€œThat was a swat. Good one, Jared,” Coach says, and Jared’s face creases into a rare smile. He looks like a whole new person! “Now, shoot that ball to Emma, Jared. And Corey, you try to intercept it. Then swat it toward Annie Pat.”
    â€œNo, no. That’s okay,” Annie Pat says, waving her hands in the air like twin starfish.
    Plural, “starfish.” Go figure.
    â€œHere it comes, A.P.,” Coach tells her. “Heads up!”
    And Annie Pat actually catches it.
    Nobody is more surprised than she is. She smiles big-time, and her face turns pink.
    â€œAnd now we’re gonna slow it down,” Coach tells us. “Just gentle passes, guys. But using
both hands
, and keeping those knees slightly bent. You’re like coiled springs, people! Pass those balls toward me. EllRay, I’m putting you in charge of the net bag.”
    Plural, “net bags.” Easy.
    I scoop up the net bag and start jamming balls into it. Hup, hup!
    â€œWe’ll meet again Wednesday morning, during recess,” Coach tells us. “Until then, keep handling those basketballs at home. Or those beach balls. Whatever. And if you can, find a wall—
outside,
people!—and do some rapid-fire passing drills on your own. Against the wall, no bounce when you pass. And never stop practicing. Just stand about two feet from the wall, throw
hard
, and work your way back. Got that?”
    Not really, I think. But I figure
someone
knows what Coach is talking about. And maybe they can tell me. After all, we have three more recesses before Wednesday morning’s coaching session.
    â€œRecesses.” The plural of recess. You have to stick that “E” in there, or it would look funny. “
Sss
,” like the noise snakes make.
    We have this afternoon, tomorrow morning, and tomorrow afternoon.
    Coach already said I was “on fire,” didn’t he? And that’s the best thing any grown-up who isn’t a relative has ever said to me in my entire life! So