by LJ Alonge
Instead of warming up, Frank watches them from half-court.
“They’re going to kill us,” he says.
“Yeah,” I say. “It’s been nice knowing you.”
There’s an old guy with them who stands off to the side, crossing his arms over his chest and looking admiringly at the team. I’m guessing he’s their coach. He calls me over.
“Are you playing?” he asks. “Where’s the rest of your team?”
“Right there,” I say.
He stares at White Mike, who’s sitting cross-legged under the basket, trying to control his breathing.
“Him?” the guy says.
“Yeah,” I say.
He nods. “Let’s make this quick.”
Janae shoots for takeout and makes it. Because I’m tall, they put a massive guy on me, this giant scowling kid who’s got about six inches on me, easy. That’s their first mistake. If they’d been watching warm-ups, they’d know to put someone long on Janae. Instead, they put some little guy on Janae, a kid she can shoot over easily. Frank passes the ball to me and runs off to a corner. White Mike sets a screen for Janae. When she gets the ball at the top of the key, it’s up before her man can even get a hand up. Three–nothing.
“Lucky,” the guy says.
Janae doesn’t even look at him as she jogs back on defense.
Here’s how their offense works: Each guy takes a turn being the main guy, and it’s not long before they each reveal their tics. The guy I’m guarding likes to do a jump hook over his left shoulder. He’s definitely in high school but already has the shadow of a recently shaved beard on his face and neck. I stand tall, with my arms up and my chest out. As he backs into me, I lower my center of gravity so that I won’t get pushed back. Still, he scores on me three straight times with the same jump hook. On the fourth try, I try to block it, but I jump right past him. He goes up and under and dunks, sending Mike sprawling into the crowd.
Everyone watching loses their mind. Mike turns red and pounds his fist against a pole.
Adrian brings the ball up the court. The guy that’s guarding him has long arms and legs, and from where I’m standing on the baseline, Adrian looks completely engulfed. He spins right and spins left, and the guy stays glued to him. He dribbles toward the middle of the key and looks like he’s going to shoot. When two guys bear down on him, he throws me a no-look pass.
I catch the ball. I catch the ball. At the beginning of the summer I couldn’t even do that. In a panic, I look up to find the center of the backboard and throw the ball up. It misses and clangs off the backboard, but Mike’s there to grab the rebound. He throws it to Janae, who flicks her wrist. The net splashes.
What we’ve learned over the past few days is that none of us except Janae are good enough to beat anybody one-on-one. Adrian’s got a nice handle, but his jumper’s inconsistent. Mike’s no good unless he’s two feet from the basket. Frank’s pretty good when he’s wide open, but if anyone gets close to him, he gets the yips. Me, it’s pretty obvious what usually happens when I shoot.
So it’s a surprise to everybody that we keep the score close. It’s eighteen–thirteen, their lead. Nobody expected this. Especially me.
On defense, the guy I’m guarding gets the ball right on the block. He gives me his up-and-under move, but I stay down. And when he tries to toss a hook shot over me, I’m right there to block it.
Our spectators go silent; I can hear someone opening a bag of chips in the back of the crowd somewhere. I can imagine the looks on everybody’s faces. The slack jaws, the surprised eyes. Similac, Ray the Barber, all the kids who wouldn’t play with us: They don’t even recognize me. Even the kids from Ghosttown scratch the back of their necks. Who knows what’ll happen with the rest of the game. With enough luck, we might win. But even if we don’t, I know that something’s changed. Nobody’s going to see me as the kid I was a few weeks ago. Not Mom, not Pop, not Mr. Hunter, not Frank, not Omar, not Janae. Imagine everyone you’ve ever known not knowing who you really are.
One day they’ll ask, Who are you?
I don’t know, I’ll say. Give me some time, a summer or two to figure it out. See what I become then.
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