shouts that the visitors were looking to add another hash mark in their win column.
But Wickasaukee was just as determined to regain their lost crown.
Competitions of all sorts took place from after breakfast to lunch and then from lunch until dinner. Tim took part in a three-inning softball match that Wicky won, a water balloon toss that left him soaked to the skin when Billy flung the missile too hard, and the hundred-yard dash that saw him placing second overall. But as always, the highlight of the day was the much-anticipated boys’ basketball showdown.
Tim had butterflies in his stomach as he joined the other Eagles on the court. Today they were all dressed in the camp’s light blue and white jerseys with dark blue shorts. The Chickasaw players wore dark green uniforms. The two teams warmed up for fifteen minutes, and then the starters headed onto the floor.
Both teams were playing a half-court man-to-man defense. Tim identified who he’d be covering and then took his position for the tip-off. A moment later, the whistle blew, the ball was tossed up between the centers—and the game began!
Donnie was at center. He leaped and batted the ball into Mike’s hands. Mike dribbled a few steps. Then his defender jumped in front of him, hands waving.
Tim dodged free of his man in case Mike looked to pass. But Mike hadn’t lost his dribble. Rather than pass, he feinted to the right, switched hands, and tried to slip past the defense to the left.
The defender wasn’t fooled. He dogged Mike every step, snaking his hand in so often that Mike finally stopped just outside the three-point arc.
He needs help! Tim darted toward his teammate, hands up.
But Mike didn’t pass; he shot. His defender jumped with him and— boom! — walloped the ball straight down! A Chickasaw player moved to grab it off the bounce, but Tim was faster. He nabbed the ball, put it on the floor, and dribbled into the paint. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cue Ball slide into position under the basket. Without missing a beat, Tim directed a pass into his waiting hands. Cue Ball went up—score!
“A beautiful play by Tim Daniels, and Wickasaukee gets on the board first,” a voice over the loudspeaker bellowed. Tim glanced over and saw Dick Dunbar grinning from behind the microphone.
Tim raced back on defense, turning to jog backward when he crossed the half-court line. It was a good thing he did, too, because his man was bringing the ball down at top speed. If he’d still been facing the hoop, the guard would have blown by him for sure!
Shield popped into his head. He dropped into his low defensive stance, arms out. Laser vision! He kept his eyes trained on the man’s midsection. When the guard stutter-stepped, Tim stuck with him instead of moving out of position.
The Chickasaw player passed the ball to a teammate. Mike dove for the steal but missed. Now his man had an open path to the hoop. He drove in and went up. Missed!
The Chickasaw fans groaned and the Wickasaukee fans cheered. Bobby Last came down with the rebound. He fired an outlet pass to Mike, who dribbled madly toward the hoop. Tim was sure he was going to go all the way, but at the last second he dished to Donnie, who was waiting at the low post. Donnie caught the pass at his chest and jumped with the ball.
Slap! Fweet!
Play stopped at the sound of the whistle. The referee tapped his arm to indicate that Donnie had been fouled, reported the offender’s number to the table, and sent Donnie, whose shot had missed, to the line to shoot two.
Donnie sank them both. Wickasaukee, 4, Chickasaw, 0.
Two minutes later, Chickasaw drained one from the corner of the key to make it 4–2. Tim inbounded the ball to Mike. Mike took his time getting across half-court and then called out, “Twenty-two!”
Twenty-two was their standard pick play. Cue Ball ran to the top of the key and set himself sideways. Meanwhile, Mike sped up, drawing his defender with him—and smack into Cue
But Wickasaukee was just as determined to regain their lost crown.
Competitions of all sorts took place from after breakfast to lunch and then from lunch until dinner. Tim took part in a three-inning softball match that Wicky won, a water balloon toss that left him soaked to the skin when Billy flung the missile too hard, and the hundred-yard dash that saw him placing second overall. But as always, the highlight of the day was the much-anticipated boys’ basketball showdown.
Tim had butterflies in his stomach as he joined the other Eagles on the court. Today they were all dressed in the camp’s light blue and white jerseys with dark blue shorts. The Chickasaw players wore dark green uniforms. The two teams warmed up for fifteen minutes, and then the starters headed onto the floor.
Both teams were playing a half-court man-to-man defense. Tim identified who he’d be covering and then took his position for the tip-off. A moment later, the whistle blew, the ball was tossed up between the centers—and the game began!
Donnie was at center. He leaped and batted the ball into Mike’s hands. Mike dribbled a few steps. Then his defender jumped in front of him, hands waving.
Tim dodged free of his man in case Mike looked to pass. But Mike hadn’t lost his dribble. Rather than pass, he feinted to the right, switched hands, and tried to slip past the defense to the left.
The defender wasn’t fooled. He dogged Mike every step, snaking his hand in so often that Mike finally stopped just outside the three-point arc.
He needs help! Tim darted toward his teammate, hands up.
But Mike didn’t pass; he shot. His defender jumped with him and— boom! — walloped the ball straight down! A Chickasaw player moved to grab it off the bounce, but Tim was faster. He nabbed the ball, put it on the floor, and dribbled into the paint. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cue Ball slide into position under the basket. Without missing a beat, Tim directed a pass into his waiting hands. Cue Ball went up—score!
“A beautiful play by Tim Daniels, and Wickasaukee gets on the board first,” a voice over the loudspeaker bellowed. Tim glanced over and saw Dick Dunbar grinning from behind the microphone.
Tim raced back on defense, turning to jog backward when he crossed the half-court line. It was a good thing he did, too, because his man was bringing the ball down at top speed. If he’d still been facing the hoop, the guard would have blown by him for sure!
Shield popped into his head. He dropped into his low defensive stance, arms out. Laser vision! He kept his eyes trained on the man’s midsection. When the guard stutter-stepped, Tim stuck with him instead of moving out of position.
The Chickasaw player passed the ball to a teammate. Mike dove for the steal but missed. Now his man had an open path to the hoop. He drove in and went up. Missed!
The Chickasaw fans groaned and the Wickasaukee fans cheered. Bobby Last came down with the rebound. He fired an outlet pass to Mike, who dribbled madly toward the hoop. Tim was sure he was going to go all the way, but at the last second he dished to Donnie, who was waiting at the low post. Donnie caught the pass at his chest and jumped with the ball.
Slap! Fweet!
Play stopped at the sound of the whistle. The referee tapped his arm to indicate that Donnie had been fouled, reported the offender’s number to the table, and sent Donnie, whose shot had missed, to the line to shoot two.
Donnie sank them both. Wickasaukee, 4, Chickasaw, 0.
Two minutes later, Chickasaw drained one from the corner of the key to make it 4–2. Tim inbounded the ball to Mike. Mike took his time getting across half-court and then called out, “Twenty-two!”
Twenty-two was their standard pick play. Cue Ball ran to the top of the key and set himself sideways. Meanwhile, Mike sped up, drawing his defender with him—and smack into Cue
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