by Derek Jeter
“Not all that much, really.”
The two boys were standing in the hallway after school. Lots of kids were passing by, and Derek didn’t want to reveal anything about their act to anyone. He wanted it to be a surprise when they got up there onstage—especially Gary’s appearance in the dance. His name, at his own request, would not appear in the program for the show.
“Still, I suppose I have to actually rehearse for this pathetic excuse of an act?”
“Yes, you will. But like I say, don’t panic. All you have to do is make like Frankenstein and move your mouth when the monster in the song says his piece.”
“This is so juvenile,” Gary protested.
“Nuh-uh-uh!” Derek said, wagging his index finger at Gary. “Don’t even get started, dude. I beat you, fair and square.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“It’ll be next week sometime,” Derek said. “Probably early in the week. Keep your afternoons free—it’ll be at my house. You know where that is?”
“No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me,” said Gary miserably. “Ugh. This is going to be even worse than being forced to play baseball last spring.”
“Ah, be quiet—you loved it, and you know it.”
“That is ridiculous,” Gary said.
But Derek knew it was true, even though Gary would never admit it. Hopefully, he’d get over being in the talent show too.
Derek was on his way out of the building when Sam came up behind him. “Hey!” he said, flashing a big smile. “Guess what?”
“You passed?”
“Yesss! Thanks to you, buddy! I would have never gotten there without you!”
“Ah, come on, I’m sure you would have.”
“I passed by four points, Derek. Four. Points. There’s no way I could have done it without you. Just think—now my mom will let me be on the under-twelve team!”
“Yeah! That’s… great!”
Derek hoped he sounded more excited than he really felt. Sam was definitely going to make the basketball team. That left only two slots at point guard, with twelve kids called back at guard for Saturday.
Derek still had a chance to make the team, but it had just gone down by a lot.
* * *
In spite of the fact that they’d only had one hour to rehearse today, the routine was coming along. Derek and Vijay had already choreographed most of the song. There were a few gaps where they both agreed they needed to find new moves to cover. But for that, they’d have to watch some music videos for research. As for the monster’s part, it would have to wait until Gary was there.
The two boys spent the rest of their time teaching each other their moves. They promised each other to have them down by next week’s rehearsal, so they could try them out in unison to the music.
After Vijay was gone, Derek continued to practice the moves his friend had taught him. There was the sphinxlike head move, with the chin jutting out then in, and the side-to-side head shift, left to right and back again without tilting the head. There were the arm waves, like swimming—Vijay had picked those moves up at the family wedding in India. And there was this wobbly leg thing Vijay did that was really good for showing how scared they were of the monster.
Derek finished off his practice session by doing some more worms, twists, and anything else he could do in the family’s small living room, which had the most open space of any room in the house. Things like cartwheels and such would have to wait till they had a bigger space to practice in.
“Derek? Dinner is ready!” his mom’s voice called out from the kitchen. “Everyone else is at the table. Are you coming?”
“Be right there, Mom!” He put away the CD and washed his hands, then joined the rest of the family at the table.
He went to bed that night feeling tired and a bit sore. He hoped he hadn’t overdone it. But there was always tomorrow to rest up and get ready for Saturday morning’s big tryout.
He was excited about the talent show, too—for sure. But he was twice as excited about making the basketball team!
And ten times as nervous that he wouldn’t.
* * *
“OW!! Ow! Ow! Ow!”
Derek shot up in bed. The pain in his neck was sharp and intense. Every time he tried to move it to the right or forward, the pain shot through him and made him cry out in agony.
No, no, nononono—this cannot be happening! he thought, a wave of panic coming over him.
He must have twisted it last night, doing some of those new moves! But it hadn’t bothered him at the time.
Then he thought back to Tuesday, when Ms. Terrapin’s sharp rebuke had caused him to twist his neck around. He’d been looking back at Gary and Sam, he remembered, and the quick maneuver had caused that same spot in his neck to hurt for just a second.
He wondered now if that could have caused this. Or maybe it was one thing on top of the other… ?
It hardly mattered now. Basketball tryouts were just twenty-four hours away! How was he going to recover in time?
“Mom!” he called out. “MOM!!”
She came running up the stairs. “What is it, old man? Are you okay?”
“I can’t move my neck!”
He proceeded to explain how he might have injured it.
She examined him closely. “You need to have the school nurse look at it—she’ll know better than I do—but it sounds like you pulled or strained a muscle, and now it’s seizing up with spasms.”
“Spasms?” It sounded terrible!
“Your dad and I have both had them before. They usually go away after a couple of days.”
“A couple of days?” Derek repeated. “It has to be better by tomorrow! I’ve got basketball tryouts!”
“Well, if it isn’t, you’ll have to explain to the coach.”
“Mom, no! He won’t understand—I’ll never get on the team if I can’t play!”
“Let’s just see what happens,” said his mom. “Maybe you’ll feel better by then.”
“I have to try out—no matter what!”
“Derek, if you play with an injury you might hurt yourself even worse. If it isn’t mostly gone by tomorrow morning, you’ll have to accept the reality of the situation and explain things to the coach.”
Derek started to slump but jerked back with a wince as the pain kicked in again.
“Look, let’s get you ready for school now. Otherwise you’ll be late.”
“School?! I can’t even move!”
“I’ll drive you there on my way to work. We’ll put some ointment on it—that should help. You’ll just have to take it slow and easy today. These things are usually at their worst in the morning.”
Derek couldn’t see how he could possibly be all better by tomorrow. He could try to play with some pain, but he knew it would affect his game—not to mention that he might wind up making his neck worse!
After all that dreaming with Dave… he was now facing the worst possible scenario: Dave making the team and him being left out—just because of a freak injury at the very last minute!
Why couldn’t this have happened next week—or next month? Why did it have to happen now—at the worst possible moment?
Chapter Ten DISASTER!
“What do you mean, you can’t move?!”
Derek didn’t answer right away. What could he say? What could he tell Vijay to make him not freak out?
“I just… it hurts if I turn my neck.”
“What are we going to do now? How can we practice?” Vijay looked forlorn and defeated.
Derek tried to nod, but had to stop, wincing in pain. He sympathized with his friend—after all, he was excited about their dance too—but Derek had other, more urgent problems of his own.
“Look, Vij,” he said. “The talent show’s still two weeks away. The school nurse and my mom both said this should be better in a few days.”
“I hope so,” Vijay said dejectedly. “Because if not, this whole thing is going to be a total disaster.”
Derek watched his fr
iend shuffle slowly down the hallway, past the kids at their lockers getting ready to go home for the weekend. Vijay was usually so upbeat—so positive about everything. Derek had rarely seen him this down.
Derek’s dad picked him up from school, so that he’d be more comfortable than on the bus. When they got home, Derek put some of his mom’s wintergreen ointment on his neck, and a heating pad for good measure. It was starting to feel better, and everything he did to treat it helped a little more. Derek was starting to think there was a glimmer of a chance he could try out the next day.
By the time he went to bed that night, he was amazed at how much his neck had improved. The pain was less than half what it had been that morning!
* * *
Gazing up at the scoreboard, Derek saw that his team had a 1-point lead, with only thirty seconds left!
He drove the lane, feeding the ball off to Dave, who took the open 3-pointer—SWISH!
Derek flew back down the court on defense—but the other team’s point guard went airborne, right over his head, and slammed home a ferocious dunk!
Hey—it was Sam Rockman, of all people! Wasn’t he supposed to be on Derek’s team?
No time to think about that—only fourteen seconds left! Derek took the inbounds pass and rushed the ball up the court, drawing the double-team. Again, he dished it off to Dave—but this time, Derek took off for the basket, and Dave fed him the pass in full flight.…
Derek was about to lay it up when a huge hand swatted the ball away!
Derek swung his head around to see who it was—
* * *
“OWWW!! OW! OW! OWWW!”
Tears welled up in his eyes as the pain shot through his neck. He must have aggravated it waking up from his dream!
Oh no! All his hopes of waking up with no pain were gone—out the window! He had to move as slowly as a turtle to get out of bed, wincing more than once when his neck moved too much.
“How is it?” said his mom, coming in to see what the noise was all about. “Oh. I see. Gee, that’s too bad. Sorry, hon.”
Derek felt the tears coming and fought them back with every fiber of his being. “I’m not going to tryouts!” he said bitterly.
“Of course you are, old man,” she told him, gently rubbing the back of his neck. “We honor our commitments. And you’ve committed to being on this team.”
“I can’t bear just sitting there watching, Mom!”
“Of course you can. And of course you will. If you can’t impress the coach with the quality of your play, you can at least impress him with the quality of your character and your commitment.”
Derek sighed. He knew his mom was right. He would show up and tell the coach what had happened. He would sit there on the bench and root for Dave and Sam to make the team without him.
“Okay,” he told his mom.
“I’ll be right there with you the whole time,” she assured him. “We’ll see this through together. And try not to give up hope, old man. One thing your dad and I learned before we met, back when we were both in the military—when you show up for duty no matter what, amazing things can happen.”
* * *
They got there half an hour early—before any of the other kids arrived. Coach Nelson was there, along with the two assistant coaches, going over their notes with one another, reviewing and comparing what they’d marked down about each kid who’d tried out.
“Don’t be afraid, Derek—just tell Coach what happened and why you’re here.” His mother gave him a kiss on the forehead and a gentle pat on the shoulder. “I’ll be right here.” Then she took a seat in the bleachers.
Derek went up to the coach, who was busy writing in his notebook. “Sir?” he finally said. “Excuse me, but—”
“You’re here early,” said Coach Nelson. “What’s your name again? Darrin something?”
“Derek, sir. Derek Jeter.”
“I’m busy right now, Derek. You can get warmed up over in that area or just sit for a few minutes till the other kids get here.”
“I… I can’t try out today,” Derek said haltingly.
“Huh? I don’t understand.”
“I hurt my neck the other day. It hurts when I move it a certain way.” He sighed, feeling a lump rising in his throat. “I really, really want to be on the team,” he said. “I just—can’t play today.”
“How did you wind up hurting yourself?” asked the coach.
“I was practicing.”
He was going to leave it at that, but the coach asked, “For the team?”
“Not exactly,” said Derek, looking down at the gym floor. “I’m in the school talent show with my friend, and we’re doing a break dancing routine.”
“Ouch,” said the coach. “Rolling on your neck, twisting in corkscrews, that kind of thing?”
Derek nodded silently.
“Well, kid, thanks for being up front about it. I like that in my players. You’re a real stand-up guy. You could have just called, but you came all the way down here to tell me in person. Too bad you’re not able to play today—you looked good in that first round. I guess I’ll see you next season.” He offered his hand.
“Thanks,” said Derek, shaking it as he looked down at his shoes.
So it was over, then. “See you next season,” the coach had said. That meant Derek was out for this season.
He sat back down next to his mother. She threw an arm around him and let him lean his head on her shoulder. “Keep your chin up, old man,” she whispered. “You did the right thing. You’re doing the right thing.”
The other players began to file in. Dave waved to Derek and smiled, then saw the look on his face and came over. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“I can’t do it,” Derek said. “My neck’s messed up.”
“Wow. Seriously? That really stinks! Man, I can’t believe this.”
“Believe it,” Derek said.
The coach blew his whistle. Dave said, “I’d better get over there. Sorry, Derek. Maybe it’ll work out somehow.” He shrugged, then turned to go.
“It won’t,” Derek said, mostly to himself.
But his mom heard him. “You don’t know that, Derek,” she said. “One thing you do know—you handled it as well as possible.”
Derek and his mom watched as the kids went through their drills, then faced off in a full-court scrimmage. Dave and Sam both stood out at their positions—but all the kids were really good. Sitting there watching, Derek wasn’t sure he’d have made the team anyway, even if he had been down there playing.
At the end of practice Coach Nelson and the assistant coaches gathered the boys together on the bleachers, across the gym from where Derek and his mom were sitting. He told them they’d done well and that the results would be posted the following Friday. He told the kids if they didn’t make the team, it didn’t mean they weren’t good players. He encouraged them all to try again next season—the same thing he’d told Derek before tryouts began.
Then he dismissed the kids, and they began scattering, talking in groups as they looked for their rides home.
Derek watched them all go. Some were excited, feeling they’d played well enough to make the team. Others seemed less sure or even somewhat downcast.
At least those kids had been given a chance to prove themselves. He hadn’t even had that!
Just as he was really feeling sorry for himself, he looked up and saw Coach Nelson staring at him from clear across the gym.
The coach walked slowly over to Derek and his mom, holding his notebook under his arm.
“I can’t believe you’re still here!” he said to Derek. “First in, last out, huh?” He turned to Mrs. Jeter. “I assume you’re this young man’s mom?”
“That’s me,” she said. “Dorothy Jeter.”
“Paul Nelson. You ought to be mighty proud of your son. He’s got the right work ethic.”
“He’s committed to making this team,” she replied. “In our family, we don’t take our commitments lightly.
”
“Not even to being in talent shows, I gather,” said the coach with a bit of a grin.
“It’s good to try all kinds of things,” said Derek’s mom.
“Yes, indeed, Mrs. Jeter.” Coach Nelson cleared his throat. “Uh, listen—Derek, I have to say, you’ve made an impression on me today, tryout or no tryout. Coming in person instead of calling, getting here early—and staying the whole time, even though you must have been aching to get out there and play. That can’t have been easy.… ”
“No,” Derek admitted. “It wasn’t.”
“Now, as you can understand, I have to pick my team from the kids who were on the floor today. And I can’t schedule a private tryout, just for you.”
Derek nodded. Of course he knew all that. What was the coach getting at?
“Normally, I wouldn’t do this—but since I don’t have to post the roster till Friday, I’m going to bend the procedures a little.”
He sat down on Derek’s other side. “I also coach the under-fourteen traveling team,” he said. “They’re going to be scrimmaging Thursday evening. If your neck is all better by then, you can come down here and I’ll get you into the game. That’ll stand as your tryout—if you’re up for playing with kids who are older and more advanced, that is.”
“Yesss! Ow!!” Tears came to Derek’s eyes, finally—from the pain in his neck—but now they were tears of joy. He couldn’t believe the coach was giving him another chance to make the team! “Thanks, Coach Nelson!”
“You earned yourself a second chance, kid,” said the coach, clapping him on the shoulder—gently. “Character counts, at least with me. Let’s just hope you’re less clumsy on the court than you are on the dance floor.”
They all laughed at that one. Then Nelson said, “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Jeter. Hope to see you both here on Thursday night.”
“You will,” said Derek’s mom, “whether Derek can play by then or not, we’ll be here.”
“I’m playing! I’m totally playing!” Derek insisted. “Don’t worry, Coach,” he said. “These things almost always heal in a couple of days. Right, Mom?”
