Second-String Center

by Rich Wallace

  Coach Davis’s whistle made them both look up. “We’ve got fifteen minutes,” he said. “I want the five biggest guys out here on one side: Dunk, Lamont, Jared, Louie, and Ryan. The other seven will rotate for the opposition. See if speed can overcome height.”

  And though the speed made a difference, no one was able to contain Jared. With Dunk and Louie offering support, Jared continued to roll up big points.

  Spencer eventually appointed himself center for the smaller team, moving inside and sticking close to Jared. Spencer had some strength and was very quick, and he did a decent job of slowing Jared down. That left Louie and Dunk to take up the slack, and they both responded with buckets.

  Jared gripped Spencer’s hand as the scrimmage ended. “Good job,” he said softly.

  “You, too,” Spencer replied. “Nice to see you back from your nap.”

  “Nice to be back finally.”

  Saturday afternoon Dunk got a call from Spencer.

  “Team dinner, if you’re up for it,” Spence said. “We’re meeting at Villa Roma around four thirty for pizza and stuff. You in?”

  “Think so.”

  “That’ll make six of us. Jared’s mom says he’s in Hoboken. I don’t know where Fiorelli or Lamont are. You seen ’em?”

  “No.” Dunk hadn’t left the house all day.

  “Anyway,” Spencer said, “bring money if you come.”

  “Yeah. Four thirty at Villa Roma.”

  “Right. I still gotta call a few more guys.”

  “See you then.”

  Dunk checked with his parents, then went upstairs to take a shower. It occurred to him that he was still the only one on the team who knew why Jared would be in Hoboken on a Saturday. But it wasn’t his place to say anything. Jared would reveal that on his own.

  “Ten bucks enough?” Dad asked.

  “I would think so,” Dunk said. “Should be plenty.”

  “Here’s twelve. Figure three or four slices, a drink.”

  “You’re awesome, Dad.”

  “Hey, it’s important to hang out with your friends. Have a great time. And leave a tip.”

  Dunk tucked the money into his pocket and walked downtown.

  Villa Roma was a popular hangout for Hudson City athletes. The middle-schoolers knew they needed to get there in the afternoon because the high-school kids would take the place over in the evening. The main room had two big-screen TVs that were usually tuned to sports, plus there were video games and the pizza was inexpensive.

  Dunk took a seat at a round table with Spencer, Ryan, David, Miguel, and Louie. There were two pitchers of soda on the table.

  “Willie’s showing up later,” Spencer said. “Maybe Roberto, too.”

  “You order?” Dunk asked.

  “Two pies. One with peppers. We’ll get more if we need to.”

  The talk was mostly about the basketball season. Miguel had heard that South Bergen had a new guard who was at least as good as Palisades’s Neon Johnson.

  “He doesn’t scare me; I’m up to it,” Spencer said. “And if Jared’s got his head back together, we’ll have no trouble. Suddenly we’re looking big. The way my man Dunk’s been playing gives us some real force inside.”

  “What’s he doing in Hoboken anyway?” Miguel asked. “Jared, I mean.”

  “Maybe he’s got a girlfriend,” David said. “He hasn’t been hanging out with us at all this season.”

  “Doubt it,” Spencer said. “In Hoboken? How would he meet somebody like that?”

  David shrugged. “Who knows?”

  “He’s visiting a relative,” Dunk said. As soon as he’d said it, he wished he hadn’t.

  “How do you know?” Spencer asked.

  “He mentioned something. I don’t know. . . . He said something after practice.”

  “He’s the mystery man,” Miguel said. “Disappearing Jared.”

  “As long as he doesn’t disappear from any more games,” Spencer said. “We can’t have that boy fouling out. That could kill us.”

  “Didn’t kill us the other day,” Miguel said.

  “Yeah, but it would.”

  Willie came into the restaurant then, and the talk quickly changed. He’d just had his hair cut extremely short, making his ears appear to be jutting out even farther than usual.

  Miguel whistled. “Whoa, what did you do, run into a buzz saw or something?”

  Willie gave an embarrassed smile. “The guy went a little nuts, huh? I told him short, but I didn’t mean bald.”

  “It’ll grow back,” Dunk said, rubbing his own short hair. “It’s a cool look, anyway.”

  “It’s severe,” Spencer said. “Here comes the food.”

  A waitress set a pizza on the table, and all seven boys grabbed for a slice. When she returned with the second pie, Spencer said, “Better make us another one, please. These’ll go fast.”

  The talk turned to school and girls and more about basketball. Dunk didn’t say much, but he sure felt good to be there. A full-fledged member of the team.

  11

  Opportunities Taken

  Monday’s bus ride to South Bergen took the team along the Hudson River and up past the Lincoln Tunnel. The ride was stop-and-go, with lots of traffic lights. Dunk sat near the back and looked out the window.

  Jared came back after a while and took the seat next to him. “I told those guys what’s been going on,” he said. “I’m not using it as an excuse, but . . . it’s been a distraction, to say the least.”

  “Today’s a new day.”

  “Can’t wait. Big game, too.”

  “Huge.”

  Dunk took a deep breath as the bus pulled into the South Bergen parking lot. Coach had told him he’d be first man off the bench today. “Expect a lot of playing time,” he’d said before they boarded the bus.

  Jared fell into step with Dunk as they walked toward the gym. “My dad says he’s going to look for an apartment in Hudson City after the first of the year,” he said. “So my whole ‘commuting’ back and forth might be over soon.”

  “That’d be a relief, huh?”

  “Definitely.”

  Dunk felt great warming up: loose and quick. Fast almost. It was as if his whole body had changed in the past few months, becoming much more athletic and coordinated. There was more to it than that, though. His whole outlook had changed, too. He was confident.

  So when he entered the game midway through the first quarter, that frightened, nauseated feeling from the other games was no longer there. Instead, he couldn’t wait to get involved.

  Hudson City was up by a point and had the ball. Spencer shot from outside, and the ball banged off the rim. Dunk timed his jump well and got a hand on the ball, but he couldn’t bring it down. It fell to the floor. Jared grabbed it on the first bounce and laid it off the backboard and in.

  Dunk turned and found the forward who’d been covering him and ran up beside him as they made their way toward the opposite basket. The guy was quick and had scored twice with Fiorelli covering him, but Dunk stuck with him. He got position under the basket and kept his man away.

  South Bergen missed a shot and Dunk turned to box out. Jared grabbed the rebound, hit Miguel with the outlet pass, and watched as Willie took the second pass and drove in for a layup.

  Twice more Hudson City made defensive stops, and twice more they raced up the court for layups. South Bergen called for a timeout. The Hornets had a seven-point lead, and the packed gym was quiet.

  “We’re running them ragged,” Spencer said in the huddle. “They can’t penetrate with all that bulk we’ve got underneath, and we’re totally in their faces outside.”

  “Good run,” Coach Davis said. “Keep it up. These guys have the potential to score a lot of points in a hurry, so maintain the pressure.”

  By halftime, the Hornets had a double-digit lead, and Jared had already scored eleven points. Dunk hadn’t scored, but he’d played several minutes in the second quarter and had been a factor.

 
“It makes a big difference when you’re in there,” Jared said as they walked out of the locker room for the second half. “They double up on me when we’ve got the smaller lineup on the floor. They can’t do that if you’re playing.”

  Dunk nodded. He stood a little taller and pushed his shoulders back. Circumstances had certainly gone in his favor so far this season. Jared’s occasional absence and frequent poor play had given Dunk the chance to show his stuff, and he had done well in those instances. That had led to the present situation, where Jared was back in business but Dunk’s value had also been established. He’d capitalized on his opportunities.

  And he knew that the reason he’d been able to capitalize was the work he’d put in prior to the season. All that shooting and drilling on his own, all those pickup games at the Y, all that running. He’d made his own luck; he’d worked for it.

  So when he reentered the game in the third quarter, it was as more than a second-string bench-warmer. He was a key member of the Hornets. And the Hornets were looking like a first-place bunch again.

  The lead was nearly twenty points when Dunk went to the free-throw line late in the fourth quarter. He hadn’t scored at all today, but he’d done his job in other ways.

  None of the Hudson City starters were still in the game. Jared, Spencer, Fiorelli, Willie, and Miguel were on the bench now, enjoying the final minutes of a romp.

  Dunk took the ball from the referee and dribbled it twice. He bent his knees slightly, drove his shoulders up, and unleashed the ball in a perfect arc. It swished through the net, and his Hornet teammates cheered.

  “One hundred percent!” yelled Lamont, who was tensed on the line, waiting to battle for a rebound.

  Dunk thought for a second. Twelve for twelve on the season. Not too shabby.

  He allowed himself a smile. Dribbled twice. Bent his knees. Shot the ball.

  Bonk.

  The ball hit the back of the rim and bounced out. In the scramble for the rebound, it rolled out-of-bounds.

  The horn blew for a substitution. Louie ran onto the court with a grin, pointing at Dunk.

  Dunk stood with his hands on his hips for a second, then walked toward the bench. The starters all stood and clapped. Spencer embraced him, and Jared whacked him on the shoulder.

  “Overconfident!” Willie said with a laugh.

  “Never,” Dunk said. “Never under-confident again, either.”

  “Thought you’d never miss another one,” Miguel said in mock surprise.

  Dunk shook his head and smiled as he took a seat between Jared and Spencer. “I won’t miss many,” he said. “But I guarantee I’ll be making a lot of them. For many seasons to come.”