Game Changers--A Benchwarmers Novel

by John Feinstein

  As he picked up the second slice, he finally said, “So, what’s up?”

  Andi nodded, put her pizza down, and took a sip of the Coke she had ordered to drink.

  “It’s a long story,” she said. “Let me start from the beginning.”

  She began with Coach Josephson’s locker room reference to Chester Heights “only” having two black players, Eleanor’s objection to the term, and Coach Josephson refusing to apologize or back down, which led to the five players not suiting up for the first half. She finished with her surprise when Jamie Bronson voted in favor of letting them play the second half, her mixed emotions about playing, and the fact that it was clear there was going to be more trouble next week.

  “What do you think she’ll do?” Jeff asked after Andi said she expected trouble from her coach on Monday.

  Andi picked up a second slice. Jeff was about to pick up number three. It occurred to him that Andi might want a third slice. That would be disappointing.

  “She’s not the type to let something like this go,” Andi said. “On the other hand, Eleanor, Maria, Lisa, and I are four of her best five players.”

  “Who’s the fifth?” he asked, then realized it was irrelevant.

  “Bronson,” Andi answered. “If she kicks us all off the team, they won’t win a game,” she continued. “She won’t want that, not to mention having to explain to people why she did it.”

  “Yeah, ‘I made a racist comment and they objected’ probably isn’t the best reason for kicking people off the team.”

  She laughed. “My guess is she’d claim we overreacted to an innocent comment, but you’re right.”

  “And if we called Michael Barkann…”

  She pointed a finger at him. “Don’t even go there,” she said.

  “Only if she kicks you off,” Jeff added, and Andi sat back in her chair for a moment.

  While she took a few more bites, Jeff, having finished slice number three and not willing to start number four as if he were entitled to it, changed the subject—slightly.

  “What’s the assistant coach—Coach Axelson, right?—what’s she like?”

  “Very different, I think,” Andi said. “The world—our world anyway—would be a very different place if she was in charge.”

  “So why don’t the four of you—five if Lee will stick with you—go and talk to her? She’s probably as frustrated as you are. She might be willing to help.”

  “But how can she help?”

  “Not sure. I think you need to find out if she’d be willing, first, then figure out a plan.”

  She pointed at the last slice. “You eat that,” she said.

  “You sure? I’ve already had three.”

  “And you look like you could eat three more,” she said, laughing. “I’m fine. Go for it.”

  Yet another reason, he thought as he grabbed the last slice, that he liked this girl so much.

  * * *

  They sat and talked some more when the last slice of pizza was gone. Jeff was sorely tempted to order a single slice but remembered what his mother always told his father about waiting twenty minutes at the end of a meal for his brain to get the message to his stomach that it was full.

  They did go back for refills on soda but lost their table while they were waiting at the counter. By now, the entire dining area was packed.

  “Let’s walk for a while,” Andi said.

  They walked and talked, stopping in a sporting goods store—and buying nothing—although Jeff gawked at a $170 pair of sneakers. They stopped to see what was at the movies, even though there was no time to go see one even if they wanted to do so.

  “You see Toy Story 4?” she asked.

  Jeff was surprised to see that it was still playing because it had been out for a year. He was tempted to say no, but he’d seen it and, truth be told, had really liked it.

  “I went with my mom,” he said finally.

  “Come on,” she said, smiling. “If you saw the first three, you had to go to see the new one.”

  “So you went?” he said.

  “Yeah, I did. I thought it was great. I liked the ending.”

  Jeff gave in. “Yeah, it was pretty cool. I got a little choked up.”

  They walked on, finally finding an empty bench. It was one thirty.

  “We need to start back to the pickup point pretty soon,” she said. “We’re at the far end of the mall.”

  “Takes ten minutes tops,” he said—in no rush to end the excursion. Date? No. It wasn’t a date, he reminded himself.

  They returned to the subject of Monday and Coach Axelson.

  “If we’re going to talk to her, we need to do it away from school,” Andi said. “Anybody sees us—and I mean anybody—we’re in big trouble. And if it’s someone on the team … forget it.”

  “Text her,” Jeff said. “See if she has an idea.”

  Andi shook her head. “No. Not until I talk to the others to see what they think.”

  Jeff thought that made sense. “Then you need to get the others to sit with us at lunch Monday. That won’t look suspicious. You’ve done it before.”

  She nodded. “True. The problem is if Coach Josephson does something before then.”

  That would be a problem. “I don’t think it’ll happen before practice,” he said.

  “I hope you’re right,” she said.

  Jeff hoped he was right, too.

  * * *

  Unfortunately, something did happen before practice on Monday. But the news didn’t come from Coach Josephson.

  It came from Coach Axelson.

  Andi was the first to arrive at the lunch table and she instantly handed Jeff her cell phone—lunch period being the only one when students were allowed to look at their phones.

  “Just saw this when I turned the phone on,” she said.

  Jeff took the phone and saw an e-mail that was addressed to the whole team.

  Ladies, I’m writing to let you know that I submitted my resignation as your assistant basketball coach this morning. It’s been an honor and a privilege to work with all of you these past few weeks, but I believe it is best for all involved if I focus going forward on my teaching responsibilities. I have no doubt that whoever replaces me will do an outstanding job working with you. I hope this will not be the end of our relationships. I have enjoyed every second working with all of YOU …

  Jeff read it twice before handing it back to Andi. Eleanor, Maria, and Lisa were a few steps behind Andi, all carrying trays and stunned looks.

  “What do you think happened?” Jeff asked.

  Maria shrugged. “I think she just couldn’t deal with Josephson anymore.”

  “I think putting YOU in all caps says it all,” Lisa added.

  Jeff thought that was accurate. “So, what are you going to do?” he asked. “This pretty much wipes out the plan to go to her for help, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes and no,” Andi said. “I still think we should go and see her, if only to find out why she quit. She owes us that much, I think.”

  “She may not see it that way,” Eleanor said.

  “I think she will,” Maria said. “She’s a pretty reasonable person.”

  “Okay, let’s say we go to her and she says—surprise—she just couldn’t deal with Josephson anymore,” Lisa said. “Then what?”

  “We could go to Mr. Block and tell him he needs to make Coach Axelson the coach and get rid of Coach Josephson,” Maria said.

  Andi was shaking her head. “I think the last thing he’s going to want to do is get involved with another sixth-grade coach,” she said. “I know he didn’t enjoy what happened with Coach Johnston during soccer season.”

  For a moment, Jeff wondered if it was time to involve his father and NBC Sports–Philly again. He was pretty sure that Andi would hate that idea.

  “I think you go see Coach Axelson,” he said. “After you talk to her, then you decide what to do next. But I think you better do it right away, because if you don’t, there might
be a new assistant coach at practice today and that’ll be that.”

  Andi looked at the other girls. “What do you think?” she asked.

  “I think we better get going,” Eleanor said. “We’ve got twenty minutes before fifth period starts.”

  * * *

  They decided to look first in the faculty staff room, which was off-limits to students but the likely place a teacher would be during the lunch period.

  It was at the far end of the hall from the cafeteria. When they got to the door, they all stopped as if not sure what to do next. The double doors didn’t have a window, so there was no way to see if Coach Axelson was inside. They all looked at each other.

  “Go ahead, Andi, see if she’s in there,” Maria said.

  “Me?” Andi said. “Why me?”

  “This was your idea,” Lisa said.

  “Oh, yeah,” Andi said, kicking herself for having the idea. “I forgot.”

  She took a deep breath, pushed the door on the right open, and peeked her head inside. The place was packed, teachers eating their lunch and talking to one another. Andi’s eyes scanned the room while several teachers were clearly giving her curious looks.

  She spotted Coach Axelson sitting at a table with the other earth science and geology teachers. She guessed this only because her earth science teacher—Ms. Marx—was sitting directly across from her. She was about to call out when she heard a voice say, “Carillo, what are you doing here?”

  She knew without looking who it was: Coach Josephson.

  She’d come too far to back out now. She stepped into the room and, without looking to her left, which was where she’d heard Coach Josephson’s voice, waved at Coach Axelson’s table.

  “Coach Axelson,” she said. “Have you got a minute? Several of us would like to talk to you.”

  She added the second sentence so Coach Axelson—and Coach Josephson—would know she wasn’t the lone ranger in this.

  “She’s not Coach Axelson anymore,” Coach Josephson said.

  Andi still hadn’t looked in her direction, rudeness she knew she’d almost certainly pay a price for at practice that day—if she was allowed to practice.

  Coach Axelson stood up. “It’s okay, Amy, I’ve got this,” she said. “Andi, I’ll meet you outside.”

  If Coach Josephson objected, Andi didn’t hang around long enough to find out. She bolted for the door.

  “Well?” the other three said in unison as soon as she walked back into the hallway.

  “She’s coming,” Andi said. She was breathing heavily, as if she’d been running. No doubt from nerves.

  It took a full minute for Coach Axelson to make it into the hallway. Several other teachers came out first, each pausing for a moment to look at the four girls as if they each had two heads.

  Finally, Coach Axelson came through the door just as Andi was about to be convinced that Coach Josephson would show up first.

  She looked at the four girls and nodded her head. “I figured it would be you four,” she said. “Let’s go up to my classroom.”

  19

  They walked up the two flights of stairs and down the hall to Coach Axelson’s classroom in silence.

  When they walked inside, she took what was normally a student seat and turned it around so she could face the four of them, each sitting at a desk facing the whiteboard.

  “So, before you ask your question and, in the interest of time”—she glanced at her watch—“let me answer it. You are all smart kids. You could see that Coach Josephson and I had some real differences in terms of the way we thought the team should be coached. I sat down with her on Friday after we got back to school to see if we could come to a meeting of the minds so we could continue to work together.” She paused. “It didn’t work out. She’s the coach. It’s her team. I honestly think you’ll be better off with an assistant Coach Josephson might be more willing to listen to—during practice and in games.”

  When she finished, they all started talking at once. Coach Axelson put up a hand. “You gotta go one at a time or I can’t hear you.” She looked at Andi. “You were the one who had the guts to come into the faculty room, Andi, so you go first.”

  The other three girls seemed to think that was a good idea.

  “Okay,” Andi said. “Let me start by saying this: I think what I’m about to say goes for all four of us.” She looked at the others to see if anyone objected, then continued.

  “Coach, we’re two games into a fourteen-game season and we’re emotionally exhausted. You know why, you’ve been there through it all. We don’t want to quit the team: We all love basketball and we love playing together.”

  “Maybe the four of you,” Coach Axelson interjected. “Not so much with some of the other girls.”

  “They don’t much want to play with us, either,” Maria said.

  “Fair point,” Coach Axelson said. She looked at Andi to continue.

  “Coach Josephson said herself on the first tryout day that she’d never coached before. I’m not sure why she wanted to become a coach now, but I think I know enough about sports to know you don’t learn to coach by reading a book.”

  “Also a fair point,” Coach Axelson said.

  “But it isn’t just that,” Andi said. “If she made X and O mistakes, that wouldn’t be that big a deal. But she’s been biased against me for some reason since day one and biased against Lisa for being my friend. Plus, she’s a racist. We heard that on Friday.”

  Coach Axelson put up a hand. “She said some things I have a real problem with,” she admitted. “I think, like all of us, she’s a product of her environment. I don’t know exactly where she grew up, but my guess is that it wasn’t the most tolerant of communities.”

  “Does that make it okay?” Eleanor asked.

  “No, it doesn’t,” Coach Axelson answered. “All I’m saying is, I don’t think she’s evil. Just … misguided.”

  “Misguided or not, she shouldn’t be coaching us,” Andi said. “You should be.”

  The five-minute bell rang.

  Coach Axelson stood up. “I hear you,” she said. “But I can’t pull a coup d’etat here. She is a colleague and it would definitely divide a lot of the faculty.”

  Andi wasn’t exactly sure what a coup d’etat was. She wasn’t alone.

  “What’s a coup d’etat?” Lisa asked.

  “It’s when you overthrow someone who’s in power,” Maria said.

  “Right,” Coach Axelson said. “A tyrannical leader, not a sixth-grade basketball coach.”

  “But she is a tyrant,” Andi said. “And we’re the ones who are suffering because of it.”

  Kids were starting to come into the classroom. The girls had to get to their own fifth-period classes.

  “Let me give it some more thought,” Coach Axelson said. “No promises. But I do understand why you’re all so frustrated.”

  The four of them began heading upstream against the tide of kids coming into the room.

  “What do you think?” Eleanor said when they reached the hallway.

  The late bell was ringing.

  “I think if we don’t get moving, we’re all going to be late and in trouble,” Maria said.

  As usual, she was right. They all started running.

  * * *

  After the girls left the lunch table, Jeff pulled out his phone. He knew that Coach Crist would not be in the faculty room because he never ate lunch there. Instead, he and a couple of the other teachers walked two blocks to a diner that had very good food. Jeff had eaten there with his parents on weekends a couple of times, so he knew it was good.

  They had run into Coach C and his family there once, and he’d later told Jeff it was where he ate lunch every school day. “Menu’s big enough you can eat something different every day,” he said. “But most of the time, I’m happy with a burger, fries, and a milkshake.”

  Jeff wasn’t about to interrupt Coach C’s lunch with a phone call—even if he thought he’d pick up. Instead, he sent a t
ext. Coach, need to talk to you ASAP about problem I brought up to you Friday. It’s gotten worse.

  He was pleasantly surprised when he received an almost instant answer. Understand. Heard what happened at Chester Heights Friday. Still not sure I can do anything. We have late practice today. Come to my classroom after last period.

  Jeff knew that might already be too late, but he didn’t have a lot of options. He sent back a thumbs-up emoji and then headed to his fifth-period class, which was math. He hardly heard a word anyone said the rest of the afternoon and was lucky he didn’t get called on because he would have been clueless, since he hadn’t been paying any attention.

  As soon as eighth-period earth science—a class where he wouldn’t have been listening much on any day—finally ended, he set out to find Mr. Crist’s history class, which was one floor up.

  The last couple of kids were on their way out of the classroom when he arrived. Coach C was standing at the whiteboard talking to two kids about a homework assignment. Jeff stood back and waited for them to finish.

  Coach C saw him and signaled him to pull up a seat next to his desk.

  “So, I hear Joan quit this morning,” he said.

  Jeff nodded.

  “Do you think it was because of what happened on Friday?”

  “You know about that?”

  “Everyone knows about it. I haven’t talked to Amy or Joan directly, but I heard from one of the other geology teachers that the two of them had it out Friday night.”

  Jeff didn’t know that. Neither did Andi and her teammates. But that would explain a lot.

  “Do you know what ‘had it out,’ means, exactly?’

  Coach C shook his head.

  “All I know is Joan was upset about what had happened in the locker room before the game Friday and tried to have a talk with Amy about it and it didn’t go well.”

  That made sense to Jeff.

  “Coach, if Coach Axelson is gone, the girls who didn’t play the first half Friday have no chance to be treated fairly.”