Slam Dunk by Matt Christopher, Robert Hirschfeld Page A

coach said, “We have a week before we open the season against the Falcons, and we’re going to spend more time from here on doing intrasquad scrimmages. The Falcons were a pretty good team last year, and almost all their players are back this time around, so we’ve got our work cut out for us. But let’s do some stretches, and then we’ll start just like we always do, with layups.”
    When the Tornadoes got in line for a layup drill, Julian felt pretty good. Layup drills weren’t fun, but they could be useful. He knew he needed to work on his passing. He was the first man in line to set up the shooters. When Warren, at the head of the shooting line, went in with the ball, Julian set himself, watching as Warren’s shot hit the backboard too hard, clanged off the rim, and bounced toward the right sideline. Julian darted after the ball, grabbed it while it was still barely on the court, and threw a bounce pass to Cal, who caught it in midstride to go in for his layup. Cal gave him a grin as Julian trotted to the end of the shooting line.
    When Julian got to the front of the line, Grady was there to feed him the ball. Grady flipped a high pass that Julian snapped up as he took off from his right foot. He put the shot in off the glass and didn’t pause to look, heading straight for the other line. When his turn came again to pass to a teammate, he pulled the ball down just after it went through the netting and lobbed it gently to Mick, who caught it on the run and laid it up.
    As the drill went on, Julian realized that when it was all in sync, as it seemed to be now, even a drill like this could be... well, maybe not fun, exactly, but definitely satisfying.
    “Nice assist, Julian,” called the coach. “Warren, watch the steps there. You can get away with two steps before laying it up, but they’ll get you for three.”
    After layups came the hated sidestep drill. The coach called it, and Julian made a face.
    “Got a problem, Julian?” the coach asked.
    “No problem,” Julian said. “I
love
doing sidesteps.” Coach Valenti grinned. “I thought so.”
    The drill seemed to go on forever, but Julian was determined to stay with it until either he collapsed or the coach ended it. He faced Cal, who was probably going to be the backup center. Thin and rangy, Cal had less trouble moving from side to side than he had keeping his hands high in the proper defensive position. After a minute or so, Cal’s face showed the strain, and he was gasping. Julian was feeling it, too, but he forced himself to stay with it. Cal’s arms began to sag, until his hands were at waist level.
    “Come on, hang in there,” Julian whispered to the other boy. Cal gritted his teeth and brought his hands up again. “Not too much longer, now. That’s the way! Stay tough!”
    Finally, the coach clapped his hands. “All right! Take a break!”
    Cal’s arms flopped to his sides, and he bent over, panting. Julian wasn’t feeling a whole lot better, but he leaned over to the other boy.
    “You did it! You okay?”
    Cal straightened out and nodded. He flexed his arms a little and bent over again.
    “Very good,” the coach said. “I already see an improvement in this exercise. Those of you whose arms feel like they’re going to fall off, don’t worry. They won’t. But some of you may want to work out with light wrist weights. I keep a couple of sets in the phys. ed. office, if you want to borrow them, or you can find them at any sporting goods store. Take a couple more minutes, and then we’ll get back to work.”
    Grady came over to Julian and said, “You remind me of a guy we had on this team last year. Always hustling, giving everything he had. He was a center, too. Let’s see, what was his name again?”
    Julian said, “You remind me of someone from last year, too. He was a wise guy, thought he was funny, until one of his teammates stuffed him in a basket and left him there.”
    “Seriously,” Grady said. “What happened between