Fast Break

by Derek Jeter

  “Yikes. My exact words,” she admitted. “Not that I’m a doctor. But let’s hope so.”

  After the coach walked away, Derek hugged his mom fiercely. “Thanks, Mom,” he said. “Thanks for coming with me today.”

  “You know your family will always be behind you, Derek,” she said. “But I know you would have shown up here today anyway. For Dave, if for no other reason.”

  It was true. Derek hadn’t thought of it—but the dream of playing on this team together belonged to both of them.

  And now that dream was still alive!

  “You’re the best, Mom!” he said, hugging her. “Thanks. Thanks for everything.”

  Chapter Eleven ON THE CLOCK

  Yes, he felt better. Just knowing he still had a chance of making the team went a long way. Not only that, but his neck was definitely improving. He woke up Sunday and could actually move it around without wincing—although he was still treating it very gingerly.

  On Monday and Tuesday after school, he and Vijay were able to go over their routine, with nothing else but regular old homework to distract them.

  It was too bad Derek couldn’t actually try any of his dance moves, but at least Vijay was able to work on getting his down. Derek coached him, and the results really showed. Vijay was going to blow some kids’ minds when they saw him dance!

  Derek also went through the whole sequence of moves in his head, memorizing them so that when he could dance again, he could just slip right into the routine.

  He and Vijay had already agreed that Derek would give his neck a rest until the basketball scrimmage on Thursday evening. Starting Friday—exactly one week before the show—the two boys would start running through their whole number full out.

  On Tuesday, Derek told Gary, “We need you to come over tomorrow and walk through your part.”

  “Ugh,” Gary said. “Torture. But okay, I’ll be there. Not because I owe you anything, Jeter—I just don’t want to look bad up there.” He shivered with disgust. “Enjoy your short-lived triumph, Jeter. Revenge is going to be sweet, next time I win.”

  “You brought this on yourself, Gary,” Derek said coolly. “You could have studied for those tests like all the rest of us. You just thought you didn’t need to.”

  “I underestimated you, it’s true,” Gary admitted. “By one stinking point. Next time I won’t make that mistake.”

  Derek said nothing except, “See you tomorrow.” There was no sense irritating Gary any further—not when they needed him to show up for their act.

  * * *

  “It’s a pretty cool song, I have to admit.” Gary sat in Derek’s living room, arms folded across his chest. “Never heard it before.”

  “What planet have you been living on?” Vijay said, amazed. “It was number one for like fifty straight weeks this last year!”

  “I don’t listen to music,” said Gary flatly. “It’s a total waste of time.”

  “What isn’t, according to you?” Vijay shot back as Derek cued up the song to the spot where Gary came onstage.

  “Let’s see… math… chess… computer games… eating… did I say math?”

  “Okay, okay,” Derek said. “Let’s go through your part again, Gar.”

  Gary moaned, suffering with the effort of having to stand up and trudge over to the hall doorway for his entrance. “Do we have to? We’ve already done it twice.”

  “It’s called rehearsal,” Vijay said impatiently. “Practice makes perfect.”

  “Speak for yourself,” said Gary drily. “Once is plenty for me. I’m always perfect the first time.”

  “Modest, too,” quipped Derek. “Okay, here goes.”

  He pushed the play button and the music came on. As the voice spoke its ghoulish words, Gary walked stiffly into the room. He was wearing a black satin cape Vijay had brought over to use as a costume. Now he walked in like Frankenstein—stiff arms raised, hands bent like claws, mouth opening and shutting as if he was mechanically speaking along with the voice on the recording.

  Then, on cue, he broke into something like a chicken dance—except that Gary had a unique style of moving his body. The effect was funky, yet funny—in fact, it was perfect—just as Gary had said!

  “Don’t change a thing about it,” Derek said, applauding when the music faded out and the dance was done. “Gary, you’re a natural!”

  “An unnatural natural!” Vijay chimed in.

  “Ha! That’s a good one,” Gary said. “Okay, I’m done. See you onstage at the talent show, guys.”

  “Oh no.” Derek stopped him. “You’ve got to show up a couple more times for run-throughs next week, when my neck is better and I can dance again.”

  “Don’t push your luck with me, Jeter. Consider yourselves lucky I showed up once.”

  “You’re on the hook, Gar,” Derek reminded him. “A promise is a promise.”

  “Hmmm,” said Gary. “Whatever. Right now I’m out of here—that’s all I know.”

  “Don’t worry, Gary,” said Vijay as Gary headed for the door. “You are going to be a smash hit!”

  “Yeah, right,” said Gary. “We’ll all be lucky if we’re not the laughingstock of the whole school after this.” He turned and left, shutting the front door behind him.

  “Don’t listen to him,” Vijay said. “You saw what a hoot he was, dancing like that.”

  “He was, wasn’t he? Let’s just hope he doesn’t decide to get creative and change things before the performance.”

  * * *

  That evening the whole Jeter family drove to Westfield Dance Studios to watch Sharlee perform in the school’s semiannual recital. Derek was in a good mood—glad to get his mind off things. For tonight, he could be nervous for his sister instead of himself.

  As for Sharlee, she didn’t seem the least bit anxious about performing in front of a crowd of people. She was her usual bubbly, talkative self, making them all laugh.

  When she stepped out onstage with the rest of the dancers, her family stood up in the audience and clapped and whooped for her. She turned and waved, beaming her happiest smile. But in doing so, she fell out of rhythm with the other dancers.

  Derek thought this little slipup might rattle his sister. But no—not Sharlee. Instead of checking the other kids to get back in sync with them, she kept right on with what she was doing.

  And far from being tentative and halfway with her dance moves, she threw herself into it as if she were the only person on the stage!

  The audience loved it—and not just her own family, either. At the end, when the dancers took their individual bows, Sharlee got the biggest ovation of them all!

  Afterward, the Jeters went out for ice cream sundaes to celebrate. And none of them mentioned the fact that Sharlee had been out of rhythm.

  So what if she’d done some little thing wrong? There was so much she’d done right!

  This hit home to Derek as he sat there, fighting off ice-cream brain freeze. It wasn’t being perfect that mattered; it was being totally committed.

  Sharlee couldn’t have pulled it off if she’d been afraid to fail! If even a brief moment of doubt had interrupted her flow, she wouldn’t have succeeded in winning over the audience.

  Derek stored this important nugget of wisdom away in the back of his brain. He knew it might come in handy—and soon.

  * * *

  For days now, Derek had been feeling more and more confident. Coach Nelson had given him renewed hope of making the team—and his neck was hardly bothering him at all!

  On top of everything, his dance with Vijay was looking like a winner—especially now that Gary’s fantastic monster bit had been added into the mix!

  He’d seen how Sharlee had overcome a gaffe at the very beginning of her performance and gone on to steal the show. So Derek knew that if something went wrong during their “Thriller” routine, he could still overcome it.

  And yet…

  He lay in bed in the darkness, the same old fears beginning to creep back into his brai
n. He kept hearing Gary’s mocking voice in his head, and it just would not shut up.

  Tomorrow was Thursday—Derek’s big chance to make the team. But to succeed, he’d have to impress the coach with more than just his character—against a team of older kids who’d already proven they were the best in town—good enough to be on the traveling team!

  The more he thought about it, the more Derek realized he was going to have to up his game to another level. Dave and Sam had already made a great impression. But that was against kids their own age. Derek now faced a far more difficult test.

  “Hey, old man. Still awake, huh?” His mom’s head peeked around the bedroom door. “Want to talk about it?”

  Derek sat up in bed, and she sat down next to him. “I can’t sleep, Mom,” he said. “I keep thinking about tomorrow night.”

  She put an arm around him. “It’s going to be a big test for you, Derek, for sure. But you’ve had big tests before. You know you can ace them if you focus on bringing your very best. But you won’t be able to do that if you don’t get enough sleep.”

  “I just can’t!” Derek moaned. “Every time I start to nod off, it comes back into my head!”

  “Well, if it helps any, Dad and I have complete faith in you. Try picturing yourself already on the team, sinking baskets and stealing balls. That might help.” She got up, tucked him back into bed, and kissed him on the forehead. “In the meantime, just visualize yourself succeeding. Or even better—think about Sharlee. Nothing’s ever going to stop her from being successful. Don’t you let anything stop you, either.”

  Chapter Twelve SHOWTIME!

  What if I choke and miss all my shots?

  What if I throw the ball away, trying to make a dazzling pass just to impress the coach?

  What if I… ?

  The closer they got to the Y, the greater Derek’s dread grew. The pressure on him was enormous. In order to make the under-12 team, he had to do better than just hold his own with these older, more experienced players—he had to stand out.

  When Dave had first mentioned trying out for the team together, Derek hadn’t realized how much he really wanted to do it. Somehow, he’d just assumed it would be kind of fun.

  He hadn’t thought about how competitive the AAU league was—about how hard it might be to make the team in the first place.

  And now Dave was counting on him.

  Derek watched the windshield wipers go back and forth, back and forth, making their swishing, clicking sound. His heart beat in rhythm along with them as he sat in the backseat.

  “How’re you holding up, Derek?” his dad asked from the driver’s seat without turning around.

  “Fine,” Derek said flatly.

  “That’s good,” said Mr. Jeter. “Don’t try to do too much, now. Just go out there and play your regular game, and you’ll be okay.”

  Derek sighed and nodded. He’d heard all of it before—but knowing it wasn’t the same as going out there and doing it.

  Once again Derek was the first kid to arrive in the gym. Coach Nelson looked up and grinned. “I shouldn’t be surprised,” he said, coming over to shake hands. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Jeter. Mrs. Jeter, good to see you again. And you are… ?”

  “Sharlee! I’m Derek’s sister!”

  “Well, nice to meet you, too, Sharlee.”

  “I can play basketball too!”

  “I’ll bet you can,” said the coach with a smile. Then he turned to Derek. “You ready?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “How’s the neck?”

  Derek had to laugh. “It’s good! Thanks for asking.”

  “Well, make yourselves comfortable. Here, Derek. Take this ball and put up a few shots while you’re waiting.”

  * * *

  Once the other kids arrived, the coaches formed them up into two teams for the scrimmage. The traveling team season was due to begin the following week, and this would serve as their final preparation.

  So it was a surprise to them—and an unpleasant surprise to several—that some kid who wasn’t even on the team was going to play in their scrimmage. A younger kid—an under-12!

  There were several murmured comments and hard looks that Derek noticed. He hadn’t even thought about that part of being here.

  On the other hand, it didn’t change a thing for him. He wasn’t here to impress them—he was here to outwork them!

  * * *

  The scrimmage began with Derek on the bench. He watched as his team—in the yellow pinnies—took the jump ball from the blue pinnies and moved upcourt.

  His team was just that—a team. The players knew exactly where to position themselves. They were executing a play they must have drilled in practice.

  Now Derek had something else to worry about—how was he going to run the offense at point guard without knowing any of the plays?

  Coach Nelson hadn’t said a word to Derek about it. Yet the starting point guard had shouted out “Duke! Duke!” and right away, the forwards had set picks at either side of the foul line, and the center had moved under the basket. It was like clockwork.

  The blueshirts did the same on offense. Both teams were using man-on-man defenses, so the game had a slow pace. There was no time clock, of course, so the guards did a lot of dribbling, looking for the open man to pass to—or else driving and dishing off when the double-team came.

  Derek sat there, observing all this as the game went on. It was an intense scrimmage with plenty of personal fouls. Derek saw that ten minutes had run off the clock. Yet he’d been sitting on the bench for almost twenty.

  He began to wonder when he would ever get his chance. Already, there had been a few substitutions by each team. Derek found himself nervously tapping his toes, drumming on his knees with his hands, getting antsier by the minute.

  Finally, his turn came. The whistle blew for a two-shot foul on his team’s point guard. After the opposing guard made the first shot, the assistant coaching Derek’s team signaled for the offending point guard to come out. Then he pointed to Derek. “Go get ’em, kid,” he said, clapping twice.

  Derek didn’t need a second invitation. He sprang off the bench like a coiled snake—all that pent-up energy coursing through him.

  Calm down! he told himself. Relax! It’s just another game, remember? Don’t try to do too much!

  The second foul shot was good, tying the game.

  Derek ran all the right messages through his brain. But his body wanted to go, go, go! From the moment he took the inbounds pass, he was off and running.

  Until now the pace of the game had been tortoise-like, and Derek had been going crazy on the bench. Now his boundless nervous energy took over. He raced right past two defenders and went airborne for the easy layup—

  But the ball clanked off the rim! He’d given the shot too much energy, and blown it!

  Derek felt the blood rush to his face as he ran back on defense. There was no time to think—his miss had given the other team a fast break. Derek flew down the court, leapt into the air, and with his fingertips outstretched, flicked the ball away from the unwary blueshirt who’d been just about to lay one up himself!

  The assistant acting as referee blew his whistle and signaled that the ball belonged to the blue team. Still, Derek had managed to avert the worst—at least for the moment.

  He scanned the court, watching the eyes of the kid throwing the ball in. Anticipating the pass, Derek moved in a flash, and stole it!

  Again, he rushed upcourt, dribbling right past the surprised defenders. This time he pulled up for a quick jump shot.

  But once again he’d put too much energy into it! The ball hit the backboard and bounced high off the rim.

  Derek rushed to get the rebound, just as a blueshirt grabbed it. He wrapped his arms around the ball too, and the whistle blew.

  “Jump ball!”

  Derek now had to outjump a kid seven inches taller than he was. He tried to time it just right—and lo and behold, managed to tip it to one of his teammates!


  So far, his play had been a mixed bag. He hadn’t scored any points, even though he’d had two golden opportunities. On the other hand, he’d made three good defensive plays and shown that he could jump with any of them.

  But now that the other kids had been alerted to his presence on the court, his teammates seemed to silently conspire to keep the ball away from him.

  Time after time, Derek would get himself free on offense, call for the ball, only to be ignored. The ball holder would pass it to someone else who wasn’t nearly as open. Or he would drive straight into a double-team rather than pass it to Derek—an outsider who didn’t belong on this court with them.

  Derek knew that it was happening, but he also knew it might not be obvious to any of the coaches.

  “Yo, yo! Over here!” he called, only to be shunned yet again as the center took a difficult shot that was easily blocked.

  By the time the coach signaled for Derek to come out and sent the starting point guard back in for him, the yellowshirts were trailing by eight points. They’d been tied when Derek entered the game.

  He didn’t get to play again until there were less than two minutes left. The yellowshirts were trailing by sixteen now, and his teammates were already looking defeated.

  That made Derek mad. He was determined to at least make things close. He drove quickly upcourt and put up a midrange jumper. Swish! His first points of the game!

  The other team walked the ball slowly up the court, killing the clock. Derek watched for an opportunity, and as soon as the ball handler wasn’t looking, he snuck up behind him and knocked the ball away!

  His teammate grabbed it and threw upcourt to the shooting guard, who laid the ball in.

  Again, the blueshirts slow-walked the ball upcourt. Derek stuck ferociously to his man, harassing him so much that the kid committed a traveling violation. When the ref whistled it, he threw the ball down hard and gave Derek a withering look.