Sweet Victory

by Sheryl Berk

  “For your information, I was quite a cricket player in Canada.”

  “Cricket? You throw those chirpy little bugs around a court? That’s mean!” Delaney protested.

  “Cricket is an open-air game on a large grass field using balls, bats, and two wickets,” Herbie explained. “It’s quite a challenging sport, and I was an esteemed member of Cricket Canada.”

  “Yay for you,” Jenna said, snickering. “And this helps Coach Walsh how?”

  “I’m sure I could figure out the strategy for basketball,” Herbie continued. “You play one sport, you can play ’em all.”

  “It’s kinda like when you speak Spanish you can understand a little Italian,” Delaney interjected. “When I went to Rome with my family two summers ago, my español totally came in handy.”

  “Aye, dios mío,” Jenna groaned. “No es lo mismo!”

  “Yeah, what she said!” Delaney exclaimed, unaware that Jenna had just said Spanish and Italian were two very different languages.

  Sadie wasn’t buying any of this. “Herbie, it’s really nice of you to volunteer and all, but we need someone who can coach us against the New Canaan Coyotes in two weeks. They have an undefeated record, and they creamed us last year.”

  “At least give me the opportunity to do some research and present my case to Coach Walsh,” Herbie insisted. “I’m sure I can convince her I’m the man for the job.”

  “It would be a great relief for Coach Walsh to know there was one less thing for her to worry about,” Kylie reminded Sadie. “I say we give Herbie a shot.”

  “A jump shot!” he exclaimed. “See! I already know the lingo!”

  “Fine.” Sadie couldn’t argue with all of them. But she suspected Coach Walsh would never go for it.

  Sadie was worried Coach Walsh would be angry at her for betraying her confidence. But instead, she looked relieved. “I think it’s a wonderful offer,” she told Herbie. “If you want to coach the team, I’d be happy to hand over the reins to you.”

  Sadie’s mouth was hanging open. “But Coach, you’re not serious! Herbie knows nothing about basketball!”

  “Nor did I when I started coaching,” she said, handing him her playbook and clipboard. “Herbie will bring a breath of fresh air to the team—which is exactly what it needs right now.”

  “Thanks, Elisa,” Herbie said, beaming. “It means a lot to me to know I have your vote of confidence.”

  “And it means a lot to me to know my girls are in good hands. I see what a wonderful job you’ve done with the cupcake club.”

  Sadie groaned. “This is never going to work.”

  “It will work,” Coach Walsh insisted. “Because you are going to assist Herbie until you’re back in uniform and can play again. For the next few weeks, I expect you to be Assistant Coach Harris.”

  “Really? I can help coach the team?”

  “I’m counting on it,” Coach Walsh replied. “And when I get out of the hospital, I expect a game trophy on my desk.”

  Sadie gulped. “You’re going in the hospital? When? For how long?”

  “I’ll make sure that Coach Dubois has my schedule. You just worry about how the team is going to beat the New Canaan Coyotes. They’re the only thing standing between us and competing in regionals.”

  “Coyotes, eh?” Herbie tried to joke. “That sounds like a howlin’ good time.”

  Coach Walsh looked Sadie straight in the eyes. “Don’t let me down. Remember everything I taught you. Make me proud.”

  • • •

  Herbie spent days preparing for his first coaching session with the Blakely Bears. He decided it was best to tackle the game of basketball like a complicated electrical circuit he was wiring in one of his inventions.

  “Hey, team,” he said, trying to sound authoritative and official. “I’m your new coach. You can call me Coach Dubois.”

  “You ever play basketball before?” Gaby, one of Sadie’s teammates, asked, looking him over. He was dressed in a button-down plaid shirt, khaki slacks, and a red sweater vest. He looked more like an absent-minded professor than a coach.

  “Oh, I’m quite the fan…” Herbie said. “Love those Red Sox!”

  “They’re a baseball team,” Gaby corrected him.

  “Right-o! I meant the Patriots.”

  “Football,” Sadie said with a sigh.

  “The Celtics are in the NBA,” Gaby explained. “Ever hear of them?”

  “Of course, of course.” Herbie brushed it off. “I’m just such a big sports fan, sometimes I get all those teams confused.”

  Sadie rolled her eyes. This wasn’t going well. She had to say something.

  “Look, I know this isn’t perfect,” she began. “But you all know Coach Walsh is sick and needs us to pitch in while she’s out.” The team nodded. Coach had shared the news with them and the rest of the school earlier this week when she knew that Herbie was on board to fill in.

  “Come on, it’s not so bad.” Herbie tried to lift their spirits. “I know I can’t fill Coach Walsh’s shoes, but at least I can mind the store in her absence.”

  Gaby scratched her head. “Store? What store?”

  “It’s a figure of speech,” Herbie explained. “It means I’ll be tending to all of you and your games until Coach is back on her feet.”

  Gaby shrugged. “I guess. If that’s what Coach wants…”

  “So, I’ve come up with a game plan for us,” Herbie continued, checking his notes on the clipboard Coach Walsh had given him. He began drawing a diagram on the locker room chalkboard.

  “Okay, if you go left and you go right, then that leaves this guy open here to advance the ball…” He mumbled to himself as he sketched a bunch of circles and lines.

  “Um, first of all that ‘guy’ you’re referring to is a girl—and she’s a center. The other two are guards,” Gaby corrected him.

  “Didn’t I say that?” Herbie tapped a piece of chalk on his chin. “It’s called an early offense strategy. I read about it in my B-Ball 101 book last night. Unless I’m confusing it with the Divide and Conquer?”

  The team all looked baffled as Herbie continued sketching his plays. The chalkboard now looked like a tic-tac-toe board covered in scratches and scribbles. Sadie knew they had only a few days to prepare for the game against the Coyotes. And at this rate, they’d be running in circles!

  • • •

  The day of the game, Herbie gathered his team around him once again in the locker room. “Let’s go through the plan one more time,” he said. At least he looked the part of a coach today. He was in a Blakely Bears T-shirt and jeans. But Sadie noticed he was frazzled and tired. His hair looked uncombed and there were big bags under his eyes.

  “Did you get any sleep last night?” she whispered to him.

  “Not a wink. I was going over everything again and again.”

  Sadie actually felt bad for him. “Don’t worry, Herbie. You’ll do just fine.”

  “I appreciate that, Sadie,” he said. “Let’s hope you’re right.”

  He drew his diagram on the board. “Player 1 starts with the ball near the half-court line. Players 2–4 are lined up horizontally at the three-point line. Player 5 is near the basket behind Player 3. Player 1 passes to Player 2 on the right wing. Player 2 immediately passes to Player 3, in the middle, who then passes to Player 4 on the left wing…”

  Gaby raised her hand. “I don’t get it. Which one of those squiggly lines am I supposed to be?”

  Sadie blew her whistle. “Listen up! All you need to remember is this: do your best. When we win today, it’s for Coach Walsh.”

  Herbie stepped back from his board. “Yes, well, I think Assistant Coach Harris has summed it up nicely. Go out there and play hard, but also remember to have fun. Oh, and win!” He pumped his fist in the air and yelled, “Hoo-hoo-hoo!”

 
The team gathered their things and headed out of the locker room toward the court.

  “Toes crossed,” Herbie told Sadie.

  “Don’t you mean ‘fingers crossed’?” she asked.

  “No. We need more than fingers to win this game.”

  No matter many times the Blakely Bears tried to get the ball from the New Canaan Coyotes, one of the opposing players snatched it from them. By the end of the first quarter, the Bears were down 3–13.

  Herbie called his team into a huddle. “Okay, I know this doesn’t look good, which is why we need a strong comeback in the next go-round.”

  “Quarter. It’s called a quarter,” Sadie reminded him.

  “Precisely! I want to pack the paint with our defense.”

  Gaby scratched her head. “Um, Coach. We’re not really sure what to do. Those Coyotes block us everywhere we turn.”

  “The Coyotes have a really strong defense,” Sadie reminded all of them. “But they’re not as fast with the ball as we are. I think our best chance is to pass quickly and often.”

  “And they have good outside shooters,” Herbie added. “So keep man-to-man pressure on them.”

  “You mean woman-to-woman,” Sadie said.

  “Yeah, that too. Don’t give them a chance to shoot.”

  The second quarter felt like a whole new ball game. Gaby scored five points in the first few minutes.

  “Go! Go! Go!” Herbie screamed from the sidelines, jumping up and down.

  Sadie noticed that what he lacked in strategy, he made up for in enthusiasm.

  By halftime, the Bears were back on a roll and leading 21–19.

  “Okay, we got this!” Herbie said, gathering the girls around him. “Just stay on course.”

  But the Coyotes weren’t about to give up so easily. They matched the Bears shot for shot, and with only a minute left in the game, the score was tied, 27–27.

  Gaby got the ball but missed a three-pointer.

  Herbie covered his eyes. “I can’t look. I can’t look!”

  Sadie felt the same way, but forced herself to keep watching. Her eyes lit up when one of the Coyotes fouled, and Gaby took possession once again.

  “She’s got it! She’s got the ball!” she said, shaking Herbie.

  “Shoot it! Shoot it!” they both shouted. They watched as the ball sailed through the air and landed with a swoosh in the basket. The buzzer sounded and the Bears won by a single point.

  “We did it! We did it!” Sadie and Herbie exclaimed.

  The whole team danced around the court, cheering.

  The Coyotes and their coach came over to congratulate them.

  “Nice game,” Coach Keren said, shaking Herbie’s hand. “I guess we’ll be seeing you at regionals. I thought for sure without Elisa, your team would tank. But you pulled it out. Nice job, Coach Dubois.”

  “No one is as good a coach as Coach Walsh.” Sadie suddenly spoke up. “We owe her everything!”

  “I’m sorry,” the Coyotes’ coach backpedaled. “I didn’t mean it that way. I heard Coach Walsh is sick, and you’re doing your best without her.”

  “She’s fine,” Sadie found herself shouting a little too loudly. “She’ll be just fine.”

  Coach Keren looked at Herbie, concerned. “I certainly hope she will be,” she said quietly. “I know it must be really hard on all of you making do and adjusting.”

  “You don’t know!” Sadie tossed back. “And you shouldn’t talk about things you don’t know about!”

  She ran to the empty locker room and slammed the door behind her. She felt so angry that she thought she would explode if she stayed on the court one more minute.

  Herbie found her sitting on the floor in a corner, hugging her knees to her chest.

  “Remind me not to get on your bad side,” he said, taking a seat beside her. “You practically bit Coach Keren’s head off.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sadie said, sighing. “I just got so mad at how she was talking about Coach Walsh. Like we had to learn to get along without her. Like she wasn’t coming back.”

  “Sadie, you have to understand that might be a possibility,” Herbie said slowly. “Elisa doesn’t know what the doctors will tell her. She’s taking it day by day.”

  “But a lot of people get better,” Sadie insisted.

  “Yes, that’s true. And there’s more and more research being done every day to cure cancer.”

  “Well, it’s not enough,” Sadie protested. “Coach Walsh shouldn’t have gotten it.”

  Herbie nodded. “I agree with you. She’s a great person, and I feel bad that she has to go through this. But telling people off isn’t going to solve anything.”

  “I know,” Sadie admitted. “I let Kylie have it the other day too, when she was just trying to be nice.”

  “I heard,” Herbie said. “But she’s your friend, and she knew you didn’t mean it. I’m not sure Coach Keren felt the same.”

  Sadie buried her head in her hands. “I just feel so helpless. Like there’s nothing I can do to fix this. It makes me so angry!”

  “I do have an idea,” Herbie said. “Something I think will make you feel quite useful. I know what you can do that will help raise a lot of money to fight cancer.”

  Sadie looked up. “You do? What?”

  Herbie smiled. “I have one word for you: cupcakes.”

  Sadie was excited to share Herbie’s idea with her fellow PLC mates: a Cupcakes against Cancer bake sale! She knew they’d be as enthusiastic about it as she was. Focusing on a fund-raiser also took her mind off not being able to visit Coach Walsh and tell her about their victory against the Coyotes. Herbie said the coach had gone through surgery on Wednesday and was still recovering.

  “She doesn’t want you to see her just yet,” he told Sadie gently. “Maybe when she’s a little stronger. I promise, I’ll text her tonight and see when we can visit, okay?”

  Sadie nodded. She wasn’t great at waiting for anything, but if that was what her coach wanted…

  “We should do the fund-raiser as soon as possible,” she said, circling a date on the calendar.

  Kylie nodded. “I’ll ask Principal Fontina if we can set up tables in the school lobby. So parents and kids can buy cupcakes on their way in and out.”

  “And let’s spread the word,” Lexi added. “PLC is baking to beat cancer! I’ll draw some posters.”

  “I’ll ask Mr. Ludwig if we can also sell them at the Golden Spoon,” Delaney added. “I’m sure he’d be happy to, and I can set up a display in the gourmet shop.”

  Jenna held up her hands signaling a time-out. “Flavors. We need flavors. Something that will wow everyone and sell, sell, sell.”

  Kylie looked in her binder. “Well, our most popular flavors are red velvet and chocolate-chocolate chip.”

  “That’s fine, but we have to do Coach Walsh’s personal fave,” Sadie insisted. “Jelly doughnut.”

  Jenna frowned. “Doughnut? I thought we’re baking cupcakes. Isn’t that what we do? Did I miss the memo?”

  Sadie tried to convince her. “But we need to find a way to make a cupcake that tastes like a jelly doughnut.”

  Delaney put an arm around Jenna. “You can do it, can’t ya? There’s never been a cupcake flavor that could stump Jenna La Maravillosa.”

  “Well, if you put it that way…” Jenna blushed.

  “What do we want for decorations?” Lexi asked, taking out her sketchbook. “Like a pink ribbon or something for cancer awareness?”

  A lightbulb went off over Sadie’s head. “No, not a ribbon. A gold trophy. I promised Coach Walsh I would bring her a trophy.”

  Lexi made a few scratches with her pencil. “A gold trophy molded in chocolate and sprinkled with luster dust.” She showed the drawing to Sadie.

  “It’s perfect!” Sadie exclaimed. “Do you think
it will be expensive to buy the mold?”

  Sadie’s mom couldn’t help but overhear the commotion in her kitchen. “I talked it over with the other PLC parents, and we all want to pay for everything you need for this project,” she told the girls. “So every penny of the money you make can go to the American Cancer Society.”

  Sadie hugged her mom. “Oh, that’s amazing,” she said. “Thank you!” It was the first time in a long time she’d felt so happy.

  “Coach Walsh will love it,” she told her friends. “I can’t wait to bring her the check for the money we raise and a dozen jelly doughnut cupcakes.”

  Jenna was anxiously flipping through recipe books, searching for a way to make a doughnut-flavored cupcake. “Por favor, let me work,” she said. “You guys start on the chocolate and red velvet and let Sadie and me figure this out.”

  Sadie took a jar of raspberry jelly out of the cupboard. “Try this for starters,” she said. “I think we’ve also got grape and maybe strawberry.”

  Jenna made a face. “We are making these preserves for the filling from scratch,” she insisted. “Nothing is too good for Coach Walsh’s signature cupcake.”

  Sadie smiled. “You’re right. This might be the most important cupcake we’ve ever made.”

  • • •

  PLC had never worked so hard to make so many cupcakes in a week. “That makes 834 dozen, or 10,008 cupcakes,” Sadie said, checking off a list as they stacked yet another box on the floor of her living room and kitchen. There were several dozen more in the freezer, waiting to be decorated.

  “And at five dollars a cupcake…” she calculated. “That will bring in over fifty thousand dollars for cancer research.”

  “I thought you hated math,” Lexi teased her.

  “Math, yes. Money, no.”

  “Wow,” Mr. Harris said, surveying the stock. “This is a lot of cupcakes to transport. I think we should start with the ones going to the Golden Spoon.”

  “Aye, aye!” Delaney saluted him. She’d enlisted her school BFF, Sophie, to help her sell at the gourmet store after school. Jenna and her sisters would take the weekend shift. “Mr. Ludwig said he’ll take two hundred dozen—and he’ll donate all the money.”