Tournament of Champions

by Phil Bildner

  I grabbed the locks above my neck. He did ruin everything. He was ruining the Showdown.

  “We’re going to shake things up a little to start the second half,” Coach Acevedo said. “We’re going with a lineup we haven’t tried yet.” He looked around the huddle. “Speedy, Diego, Mehdi, Mega-Man, Super-Size—you’re our five.”

  Diego clapped hard. “We can do this, United,” he said. “Let’s go!”

  “Let’s bring it in,” Coach Acevedo said, finger-waving us closer. “We’re up against quite a team, so whatever happens now happens. Let’s just play hard and have fun. That’s real Clifton United basketball.” He placed his hand in the middle. “Let’s play some real Clifton United basketball. On three, United. One, two, three…”

  “United!”

  Coach Acevedo pulled me to the side.

  “We need you leading, Rip,” he said. “We need you focused.”

  I nodded.

  “No distractions,” he said. “You’re our team general.”

  I nodded again and thought about my father.

  * * *

  We played real Clifton United basketball in the second half. We played hard and had fun. But there was no incredible turn of events or miraculous comeback. We lost by thirty.

  Now, when I say we played real Clifton United basketball and had fun, that’s not entirely accurate. Coach Acevedo never put me back in the game.

  Showing Up

  As soon as the game against the Renegades ended, Diego told Coach Acevedo he wanted to talk to me away from the team. So Coach Acevedo walked Diego and me to the far end of the field house and told us to be back at court six in twenty minutes.

  We sat side by side against the wall. Kids from a team called Front Street Fury were shooting at the basket in front of us. One kid had on a protective face mask. Another wore uniform number double zero. A third kid danced around like he was on America’s Got Talent whenever he didn’t have the ball.

  “When I first got sick,” Diego started talking, “my moms was the one who told me news. Whenever there was any kind of update—good or bad—she was the one who told me. It was freaking me out because—”

  “This is what you wanted to talk about?” I interrupted.

  “Just listen.”

  “Diego, if you think you’re going to cheer me up, you might as well—”

  “Yo, just shut up for a sec.”

  I paused. “Fine.”

  “My moms was freaking me out because she wasn’t telling me everything, and I knew she wasn’t. But I needed to know everything because that’s how I deal with things.” Diego glanced my way. “You learn a lot about how you deal with things when you have cancer.”

  “Sometimes you don’t sound like a kid.”

  He laughed. “That’s another thing that happens when you have cancer. You spend so much time talking to grown-ups about grown-up things that you end up sounding like a grown-up even when you’re not talking to grown-ups.”

  A ball bounded toward Diego. He leaned over and swatted it back onto the court. Face Mask scooped it up and waved thanks.

  “My uncle saw how much my moms was freakin’ me out,” Diego said. “He stepped up and took over. Yo, my uncle saved me.”

  “What did he do?”

  Diego smiled. “He came up with the Gang of Three,” he said. “He showed up at the hospital one day in a gladiator costume. He brought costumes for me and my moms, and made us put them on, stand in the middle of my room, raise our swords, and—”

  “Swords?”

  “Yo, these costumes were tight! They had swords and shields and everything. So he had us raise our swords and make a pact: Whenever there was any kind of news, the Gang of Three all had to be present for it.”

  “That’s pretty cool.”

  Diego nodded. “When the doctors said I needed more chemo, we were all there to hear it. When I was running a fever, and my counts were low, and the doctor told us about the lockdown and how—”

  “Lockdown?”

  “It only happened one time. I couldn’t leave my room or have any visitors. It was during flu season.” Diego leaned forward and retied his sneaker. “Whenever there was news, I got to see their faces. That’s what I needed. My uncle did that. My uncle’s the best.”

  “That’s what you said last night.”

  “He is. Before I got sick, the only other kid I ever knew with cancer was this kid Silas, one of my uncle’s co-worker’s kids. But he died. So when I found out I had cancer, I thought I was going to die.”

  “Not everyone dies from cancer,” I said.

  “Ooh!” Diego pointed in my face. “You said the c-word!”

  “So?”

  “You’ve never said it before.”

  “Yeah, I have.”

  But I hadn’t. Not in front of Diego. Not even last night in the hotel room.

  “It’s fine you don’t like saying it,” Diego said. “I know other people who don’t.”

  “Not everyone dies from it.”

  “Duh.” He bumped my shoulder. “I’m here.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “Me too.”

  I bumped him back. “Cancer, cancer, cancer.”

  He laughed. “That’s better.”

  Another ball bounced our way. I caught it with both hands and threw it back to Dancing Man.

  “Your father seems pretty cool, Rip,” Diego said. “He reminds me of my uncle.”

  I pulled up my legs and wrapped my arms around my knees.

  “What’s the deal with you and him?”

  “Nothing,” I said.

  “C’mon.” He bobbed his head. “I told you stuff. Now you tell me.”

  “No.”

  “You know you want to.” He poked my side. “C’mon.”

  I tried not to smile. “Remember The Wizard of Oz?” I asked.

  “I wasn’t there for it. That was right after I got sick.”

  “Oh, my bad.”

  “No, it’s fine. What about it?”

  “That was the last time I saw my father.”

  “Yo, that’s a long time ago.”

  “I know.”

  “You said he left in first grade.”

  I nodded. “I hated it when he came back to visit. We always ended up having these huge family fights. I never wanted to see him. The Wizard of Oz was the last time.”

  Another ball headed toward us. Diego sprang to his feet and scrambled after it. He scooped it up with one hand and flipped it to Double Zero.

  “Your father’s back for good now?” Diego said.

  “He’ll be back before the end of the year,” I said. “He’s here this week looking for a place to live.”

  “Your moms says he’s not a bad guy.”

  I unwrapped my arms from my knees and crossed my legs.

  “Yo, you should listen to her,” Diego said. “Your moms knows things.”

  I smiled. “It’s a little scary sometimes.”

  “More than any mom I know! She helped me and my family so much. Remember that meeting with all the parents?” He poked my side again. “Cootie Man, Cootie Man!”

  I bobbed my head like him. “My moms is the best.”

  “Nice.”

  “Life is about playing the cards you’re dealt,” I said. “That’s what she always tells me, but when it comes to my father, he—”

  “He wants to be present, Rip,” Diego said, cutting me off. “Your dad wants to be present. Do you have any idea how many kids would give anything to have that?”

  I let out a puff. “I know, but … he can’t leave again.” I gripped the back of my neck. “I hated it when he came to visit because … because I knew he was never staying. He was always leaving.” I looked at Diego. “I couldn’t stand to see him leave. It killed me. Each time, it killed me.” I let out another puff. “He can’t leave again.”

  Diego rested his arm on my shoulder. “He’s not going anywhere.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Actual
ly, I do.” He bobbed his head and smiled still again. “Yo, that’s another thing you learn when you have cancer. You learn people—who’s showing up and who’s not. Trust me, your father wants to be here. He’s not going anywhere.”

  “Do you know … Do you ever see your father?” I asked.

  “He only liked being around for the good parts. Not the other stuff. The way I see it, my uncle is my real dad.” He lifted his arm off my shoulder. “Yo, sorry for all the ‘who’s your daddy’ stuff.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I say that to you all the time.”

  “I say it, too.”

  “I’m not going to anymore. It’s not cool.” He held out his fist.

  I tapped it with the back of my knuckles.

  “You know what I wish?” Diego said. “I wish I had a best friend like you do.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I wish I had a best friend. Like you and Red.”

  “You’re friends with everyone, Diego.”

  “Friendly,” he said, “not friends. There’s a big difference. What you and Red have … Speak of the devil.” He pointed across the floor.

  Red and Ms. Yvonne were on the other side of the court.

  “There you are!” Red shouted. He charged our way.

  Ms. Yvonne waved and headed off.

  “Hi, Mason Irving. Hi, Diego Vasquez.” He grabbed a chair from the scorer’s table and dragged it over. “What are you doing?”

  Diego gave him a double pound. “We’re talking about toenail clippers.”

  “Huh?” I said.

  Red sat down. “Why are you talking about toenail clippers?”

  “My uncle has ten pairs of toenail clippers,” Diego said, grinning. “One for each toe.”

  “No way,” I said.

  “Why does your uncle have one pair of toenail clippers for each toe?” Red asked.

  “No idea,” Diego answered. “I know all of my relatives’ weird habits. Even the weird habits I don’t want to know.”

  “Is that another thing you learn when you have cancer?” I asked.

  “You know it!”

  “Have you decided if you’re coming to the Showdown, Mason Irving?” Red asked.

  I made a face. “What do you mean?”

  “Have you decided if you’re coming to the Showdown?”

  “I’m right here.”

  “But you haven’t been here, Mason Irving, and Clifton United needs you here. Clifton United needs you to show up.”

  Diego stomped his feet. “Yo, I couldn’t have timed that any better if I tried.” He double-high-fived Red and then put his arm back on my shoulder. “That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

  “I came to the Showdown,” Red said. “You have to be here, too.”

  “Thanks, Red,” I said.

  “Thanks for what, Mason Irving?”

  “For everything.”

  “See?” Diego pointed at Red and me. “This is what I wish I had.”

  “You do,” I said. “We’re like the Gang of Three.”

  “The Gang of Three!” Red said. “I like that, Mason Irving. I like that, Diego Vazquez. The Gang of Three.”

  Differently Dazzling

  By the time we got to court six, the rest of Clifton United was already in layup lines. When Ms. Yvonne saw me, she told me to go up to the office. That’s where Coach Acevedo was.

  “Over here, Rip,” he said when I came off the stairs.

  “Hey, Coach.” I stepped around the grown-ups by the officials’ table and the kids checking the scoreboard. “Ms. Yvonne told me to come up.”

  “You doing better?” he asked.

  “Much,” I said.

  “I thought talking to Diego would help. Our little friend can be quite spirited from time to time, but when it comes to certain matters, he’s wise about things I hope I never have to be.”

  We moved farther away from the scoreboard and stood by the window overlooking the courts.

  “So here’s the deal,” he said. “We’re about to get our you-know-whats handed to us again down there.”

  “What kind of attitude is that?” I asked.

  “A realistic one.” He chuckled. “This Almond team we’re playing—they’re the defending champs. A couple weeks ago, they beat the Renegades by fifteen.”

  “Dag.”

  “Yeah, dag. And that was without their starting point guard.”

  I tapped my chest with my fist. “I guess I’ll have to do something about it.”

  “I can’t play you.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I can’t have you out there, Rip.”

  “Why not?”

  “Not after last game.” He tapped the glass. “You’re not sharp right now.”

  “Yes, I am.” I pressed my palms to my temples. I could feel myself starting to cry. “Coach, I’m telling you—”

  “Stop!” he said sternly. “You’re not sharp right now, and at this moment you’re demonstrating that. You’re not ready to be out there. Clifton United needs you to be ready.”

  I folded my arms across my chest and let out a hard puff.

  “When we get to the knockout round,” Coach Acevedo said, “teams are going to be looking past us.” He pointed at the scoreboard. “They’re going to take one look at that and think they’re already in the next round.” He placed his hand on my shoulder. “Clifton United is going to need its floor general to correct their thinking.”

  “Small ball,” I said. “We’ll beat them with small ball.”

  “That’s exactly what we’re counting on.” He tapped my chest. “But first, during this game against Almond, you need to demonstrate that you’re ready. I want you to dazzle me. Dazzle me differently.”

  “Who’s looking to be dazzled?”

  We turned. My dad walked up.

  “Hey there, pal.”

  I half waved.

  “I’m looking forward to seeing you play,” he said. “I know—”

  “I’m not playing,” I said softly.

  “Well, not this game,” he said, “but you are the next one.”

  “First, I need to show my coach that I’m ready.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do what needs to be done.”

  “I have to dazzle him,” I said, shaking out my hair. “Dazzle him differently.”

  “Then that’s what you’ll do, pal.” My father held out his fist.

  I gave him a pound.

  Almond

  I had a great time at the game against Almond. Seriously, I did. Don’t get me wrong, I would have much rather been out there playing, and I didn’t exactly enjoy watching my teammates get their butts kicked and lose by thirty-three, but I had an awesome time.

  It was cool cheering for the girls. In the second half, Coach Acevedo put all five in together and had them run a four-corner offense. That’s a kill-the-clock strategy where the offense basically plays keep-away. We never went over the four-corner offense in practice, but the girls still nailed it. Nailed it!

  It was cool cheering for Mega-Man. Yesterday at this time, we didn’t even know he was on the team, and when we did find out he was, we weren’t exactly thrilled. But now there he was, out there playing hard, having fun, and getting picked apart just like everyone else.

  A few times during the game, I made eye contact with my dad. He was standing with Ms. Yvonne again. Watching Clifton United play. Watching me differently dazzle. It was okay that he was here.

  It was amazing cheering for Diego. Despite the whupping, he smiled the whole game.

  The best was cheering next to Red. Red cheers his heart out for everyone on every play. Keeping up with him isn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world, but I did.

  Seedings

  “I’ve got some good news,” Coach Acevedo said, walking over. Clifton United had waited at the courts while he’d gone up to the office to find out the knockout round pairings for Saturday afternoon. “We’re not the sixteenth se
ed.”

  “How’s that possible?” Maya asked while tossing a ball into the air.

  “One of the teams left,” Coach Acevedo said. “We’re actually going to be the thirteenth seed.”

  “How’s that possible?” Maya asked.

  “Believe it or not, another team finished behind us,” Coach Acevedo said, “and according to Showdown rules, teams can’t play teams they faced during pool play in the opening knockout round.”

  “Who do we play?” A-Wu and Mehdi asked at the same time.

  “Front Street Fury.”

  “Yes!” I hammer-fisted the air.

  That was the team shooting around when Diego and I were talking. I knew all about some of their players’ games. Diego looked my way. He knew, too.

  “The number-one seed is getting a bye to the second round,” Coach Acevedo went on. “Since we already played the Renegades and Almond—and they’re seeded two and three respectively—we’re bumped to thirteen and play the number four seed. Loser goes home, winner plays the winner of the Renegades versus Strike Force.”

  “We’re going to annihilate whoever we face!” Diego put up his fists like a boxer and shuffled his feet. “We’re going to shock the world!”

  “This is it!” I snatched the ball from Maya and stepped forward. “I’m here to play above and beyond Clifton United basketball.”

  “Real Clifton United basketball!” Mega-Man said.

  “Exactly.” I smacked the ball. “We’re here to play real Clifton United basketball.”

  “It’s our turn now!” Maya said. She spun to Red and gave him a loud two-handed high five.

  “Oh, yeah, Maya Wade!” Red basketball-smiled. “It’s our turn.”

  “Anything can happen.” I faced Red. “Just ask Valparaiso University, right?”

  “Just ask the Valparaiso University Crusaders,” Red said, hopping. “Anything can happen.”

  “Anything will happen.” I looked around and made eye contact with everyone. “One more real rise to the occasion.”

  Red put his hand in first. Everyone added theirs.

  “We will rise to the occasion, which is life!”