Slam Dunk Shoes

by Jake Maddox

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Playground Legend

  Chapter 2

  A New Opportunity

  Chapter 3

  Surprise Visit

  Chapter 4

  Show-25s

  Chapter 5

  The Big Day

  Chapter 6

  Special Surprise

  Chapter 7

  New Shoes, New Game

  Chapter 8

  Turnaround

  Chapter 1

  Playground Legend

  Jamal stooped low in his defensive crouch. The boy he was guarding stood tall before him, dribbling the ball back and forth between his legs. Back and forth, back and forth, the ball went.

  Jamal watched it rock.

  Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore.

  Jamal lunged for the ball. He tried to swipe it from the boy in mid-dribble.

  It was just what the boy hoped Jamal would do. The boy pulled the ball back, swung it around his back, and started to drive quickly toward the basket.

  Straight down the lane he went, leaving Jamal behind. But Jamal wasn’t done. His tattered shoes pivoted on the blacktop, and Jamal made a beeline for the rim.

  The boy was quick, but Jamal was quicker. Just as the layup went toward the hoop, Jamal jumped and got his finger on the ball.

  The ball bounced off the backboard and landed squarely in the hands of one of Jamal’s teammates.

  By the time anyone could react, Jamal was already on his way down toward the other end of the court.

  Jamal’s teammate fired the ball toward midcourt. Jamal caught the ball easily. Then he sprinted toward the other basket.

  Going straight to the hoop without a hint of showboating, Jamal pushed to the rim. He laid the ball up neatly off the backboard, and heard the clang as it dropped through the chain net.

  “Two more!” yelled Michael, one of Jamal’s friends.

  Jamal just smiled. The other players were amazed at Jamal’s speed, but they were not surprised by it.

  After all, they had seen him make many incredible plays on the blacktop courts at Princeton Park. Even though he was only thirteen, Jamal was becoming a playground legend.

  The game went on. Jamal was in control the whole way. The boy he was guarding managed to get free. He scored a couple of baskets, but Jamal always answered at the other end.

  Jamal would drive the lane and toss a nifty pass to a wide-open teammate. He would slash to the rim for one of his perfect layups. Or he’d step back behind the three-point line and drop in a long jump shot.

  After each shot, Michael would yell something from the sidelines. Jamal was never one to talk trash on the court. Michael wasn’t quite as shy.

  Pickup basketball games at the playground were always played up to twenty-one points.

  Jamal’s team led, 19–7.

  Jamal finished the game off by stealing a pass.

  Then he took the ball the length of the court for an easy basket.

  When the ball dropped through the hoop, it was nearly dark outside.

  “Time to head home,” Jamal said.

  His teammates slapped hands with each other. A few of them patted Jamal on the back.

  Before long, he was making the eight-block walk through the streets to his apartment building.

  Michael, who lived just a few floors below Jamal, walked along with him.

  “So, what did he say?” Michael asked.

  “What did who say?” Jamal responded.

  “Your dad, man,” Michael said. “What did he say about the shoes?”

  Jamal knew what Michael was talking about now.

  Jamal had been bugging his father for a special pair of basketball shoes.

  They were called Show-25s. They were named after Jamal’s favorite pro player, Kenny “The Show” Milton. Kenny Milton wore number 25.

  There was only one thing wrong with the Show-25s: They cost more than a hundred dollars.

  Jamal always hoped that one day he’d play on a real team, wearing top-of-the-line shoes, and wearing number 25.

  Jamal glanced down at the tattered basketball shoes on his feet.

  Once white, they were now covered with black marks from the court and dirt. Worse, they weren’t even his. They were hand-medowns from his older brother.

  Finally, Jamal replied. “We can’t afford them right now,” he said.

  Michael nodded.

  Chapter 2

  A New Opportunity

  The next morning, Jamal met Michael and they walked together to school.

  Michael was bubbling with excitement. Jamal wasn’t sure why.

  “What’s up with you?” Jamal finally said.

  Michael bounced down the sidewalk. “I got some news for you, man,” Michael said. “Did you hear about the Cyclones?”

  “The Cyclones?” Jamal responded. The Cyclones were the best youth team in the entire city. “What about them?”

  “Yeah,” Michael said. “I guess they are having tryouts.”

  “So what?” Jamal said. “None of us could ever make that team. It’s the best team in the entire city. They have the same kids on that team every year.”

  “All they have to do is see you play, man,” Michael said. “They’ll have to take you.”

  “I don’t think so,” Jamal replied.

  The boys walked the rest of the way in silence. But Jamal’s mind was working overtime. All day at school, he thought about the tryouts for the Cyclones team. He couldn’t get it out of his head.

  At the same time, Jamal knew that his chances of making that team weren’t very good.

  The boys on the Cyclones had the best of everything: the best uniforms, the best gyms, the best shoes. They even had bright red warm-up jackets and pants to wear before their games.

  Most of their parents had enough money for them to travel all over the area playing games every weekend.

  Jamal’s life was totally different from the Cyclone players’. He might be able to compete with them on the court, but not off of it.

  After school, Jamal and Michael walked over to the playground to play some basketball.

  When they arrived, there were already a bunch of high school players on the court. “We got next!” Michael declared. A couple of them smirked.

  Soon, three other high school guys showed up.

  “You boys looking to play some ball?” one of them said.

  Michael perked right up. “Oh, yeah!” he said. “We’re ready.”

  Jamal knew the older boys. He just smiled at them and tapped fists.

  As always, Jamal was quiet on the court. But he was fixing his sights on the players. He was studying them quietly, trying to learn their weaknesses. By the time that game ended, Jamal felt ready to take on the winners.

  Finally, one player lofted a soft shot from the lane that clinked through the chain-link net, ending the game.

  Michael popped up right away and started gabbing. “Is that all you’ve got?” he barked at the older players.

  “Better watch your mouth, small man,” one of the boys shot back. Michael settled down a bit.

  Jamal calmly walked out onto the court. He felt more comfortable there than any other place in the world.

  Just before his game was about to start, Jamal saw something that made him a little nervous. A tall man was standing at the end of the court, holding a clipboard. He was wearing a bright red warm-up jacket.

  Chapter 3

  Surprise Visit

  Jamal felt the butterflies flapping around in his stomach. For the first time ever, he was nervous on a basketball court.

  “Hey, Jamal,” Michael said. “Do you see what I see?”

  “Yeah, Michael, I do,” Jamal said. He was trying not to soun
d nervous.

  “Looks like you don’t have to try out for the Cyclones,” Michael said. “Looks like your tryout is right now!”

  Jamal just shook his head. It was time to play. Time to focus.

  The other team was all high school boys, so Jamal and Michael would both have to guard much older players.

  That never bothered Jamal. He liked playing against the older guys anyway. Even though he wasn’t very tall, Jamal was quick.

  Jamal matched up with a boy named Joseph. He was one of the better players at the high school.

  Since Joseph’s team won the previous game, they had control of the court.

  As a result, they got to start with the ball first.

  Joseph was a good ball handler, so he brought the ball up the court.

  Jamal dropped down into his defensive crouch to guard him.

  Joseph moved the ball to the right and fired a pass to a teammate. Then he cut behind Jamal and headed toward the basket. The return pass hit Joseph square in the hands, and he made an easy layup.

  Jamal’s heart sank. He had been burned by an easy play. That kind of play never worked on him. Did the Cyclones’ coach notice? Was he already writing Jamal off as a player?

  Michael grabbed the ball and passed it to Jamal. As soon as he had the ball in his hands, Jamal relaxed. He felt comfortable. He took the ball up the court, flipping it between his legs once or twice along the way.

  When he crossed half-court, Jamal made eye contact with the biggest boy on his team.

  The boy knew exactly what that meant. He cut along the baseline toward the basket and Jamal moved to his right with the ball.

  Without looking, Jamal fired a one-handed pass up toward the rim. The boy leaped for it and slammed it down into the basket!

  “Woooo!” Michael cried. “Try a little taste of that!”

  Jamal smiled. The play had tied the score at 2–2. Jamal was feeling confident again.

  The rest of the game went very well.

  Jamal and Joseph played about evenly.

  They each scored a few baskets and set up their teammates with some great passes. Joseph’s team won the game.

  Jamal had to sit a game out. When his team got back on the court, however, Jamal began to take charge.

  The boys played for an hour or so. Finally, it was time to head home.

  Before Jamal could get too far, however, the man in the red Cyclones jacket approached him.

  “Excuse me,” the man said. “Your name is Jamal, right?”

  “Yes sir,” Jamal replied quietly.

  Michael wasn’t so quiet. “That’s right, he’s Jamal,” Michael shouted. “And he’s the man!”

  The Cyclones coach laughed. “I’m Coach Barker. You’re a good player,” he said to Jamal. “You’d look awfully good in a Cyclones uniform.”

  Jamal smiled. “Are you serious?” he said. “Me?”

  “Yes, you,” the coach said. “If you’re interested, you’d need to come to a practice to see how you stack up against our players. Talk it over with your mom or dad. If you’re interested, we’ll see you on Saturday.”

  Chapter 4

  Show-25s

  Jamal rushed home to talk to his dad. He couldn’t wait to tell him everything that had happened: how well he had played, how the Cyclones coach had been watching him, and what the coach had said to him after the game.

  Jamal’s dad was excited, too. He had played basketball as a young man. He had even gotten a scholarship to college before a knee injury ended his career.

  He always wanted Jamal to play basketball and love it just as he had. But he never forced Jamal to play. Jamal’s love for basketball was real.

  Jamal told his dad the whole story. His dad agreed to drive him to the practice on Saturday so Jamal could try to make the team.

  Finally, Jamal asked the big question that he had held inside through the whole story.

  “Dad, can I get a pair of Show-25s for the tryout?” Jamal asked.

  Jamal’s father thought for a moment. “Now, what do you need new shoes for?” he said. “You managed to impress that coach wearing your old ones. Could be there’s some magic in those shoes.”

  Jamal chuckled along with his dad.

  He knew what his father was really saying. He didn’t want to spend that much money on shoes. “But, Dad, those kids all have cool shoes,” Jamal said. “These ratty old things will look stupid next to all those kids’ shoes.”

  Jamal’s father grew serious. “Now, son,” he said. “Listen to me. You are who you are. You come from where you come from. You don’t need to go buying any fancy shoes just to prove you belong.”

  Jamal’s chin fell to his chest. “I know, Dad,” he said. “I know.” He had heard this speech many times before.

  “Do you think those boys on the Cyclones are good players because of the shoes they wear?” Jamal’s dad asked.

  “No,” Jamal said, guessing his dad’s answer. “It’s because they love the game and work hard.”

  “That’s right,” Jamal’s dad said. “And you’re a good player for the same reason.”

  Jamal had heard enough. “Never mind, Dad,” he said. “It’s okay. I’ll wear my old shoes to the tryout.”

  They sat in silence for a moment. Finally, Jamal’s dad spoke. “I’ll make a deal with you,” he said. “You wear your old shoes to the tryout. If you make the Cyclones, I’ll buy you a brand-new pair of Show-25s.”

  Chapter 5

  The Big Day

  Jamal walked toward the gym doors at Westhaven Middle School.

  His heart was in his throat. He wasn’t sure he was going to be able to breathe. He had never been so nervous in his life.

  The only thing making Jamal feel normal was the sound he heard in the distance. It was the sound of basketballs bouncing.

  Jamal walked toward the noise.

  When he reached the doors to the gym, he pulled them open slowly.

  Inside, the bright lights of the gym lit up three full basketball courts. Each of them had regulation-sized glass backboards. The floor was freshly polished. Even the balls looked new.

  All the players wore bright red warm-up pants and jackets as they shot around, getting ready for the start of practice.

  Jamal stepped into the gym and the door slammed behind him.

  Instantly, the gym fell silent.

  All the boys turned and looked at Jamal. There was an uncomfortable pause. Then Jamal heard a friendly voice.

  “Hey, everybody!” Coach Barker shouted. “Jamal’s here!”

  The boys returned quickly to their shooting and dribbling.

  None of them stopped to say hi to Jamal.

  Coach Barker trotted across the gym. “Hey, Jamal, I’m glad you came,” he said. “This is going to be fun. I think you’ll like these guys.”

  Jamal wasn’t so sure.

  “They don’t seem all that excited to see me,” he said.

  “Ah, don’t worry about that,” the coach said. “They’re like this with all the new kids. They’ll get over it.”

  Jamal tried to smile.

  He knew how to make himself feel comfortable. All he had to do was get a basketball in his hands.

  Coach Barker directed him to the main court, and Jamal grabbed a ball and walked out.

  He dribbled into the middle of the group, but he clearly didn’t fit in. His worn shoes, black shorts, and white T-shirt stood out. All of the Cyclones looked so freshly pressed. Jamal didn’t say a word, and no one spoke to him.

  He lofted a short shot that swished through the net. “Oooh, he can shoot!” one boy whispered.

  “Yeah, but he probably missed the clink of those metal nets on the playground,” another shot back.

  Jamal didn’t even look. He just grabbed his ball, went out a little farther, and swished another shot.

  A boy under that basket grabbed Jamal’s ball and flipped it back to him.

  “Nice shot,” the boy said. Jamal glanced up, and they smiled at each
other.

  Coach Barker interrupted the warm-up with a sharp blast of his whistle. “Full-court fast-break drill!” he shouted.

  All the players ran to different spots on the court to start the drill.

  Jamal wasn’t sure where to go, but he got in one of the lines anyway.

  He watched the first couple of groups go, and instantly figured out what he was supposed to do.

  When it was his turn, Jamal caught an outlet pass from a rebounder. He instantly dribbled to the middle of the court at full speed.

  He had a player on each side of him. They were pushing up the court toward two defenders in a three-on-two drill.

  Jamal darted up the floor. He made a little shoulder fake toward one of his teammates. The defender fell for it.

  That left the lane wide open. Jamal cruised in for an easy layup.

  “Hey, I was open!” called one of the boys.

  Jamal ignored him. He hustled back on defense and helped stop the players who were trying to score on the other end.

  It didn’t take long for Jamal to prove that he was the best player on the court.

  After fifteen minutes of the fast-break drill, Coach Barker called for a water break.

  As the players walked to get some water, one of the boys bumped into Jamal. “You may make this team,” he said, “but you’ll never be one of us.”

  Suddenly, another boy grabbed him by the arm. It was the boy who passed the ball back to Jamal during warm-ups.

  “Hey, listen,” he said. “I’m Ricky. Just ignore Hank and those other guys. They hate everyone.”

  Jamal laughed. “Well, they sure don’t like me,” he said.

  Practice continued for two hours. Jamal loved every minute of the basketball part. Getting to play on the gleaming courts with the best balls was a thrill.

  He just didn’t like the breaks in the action.

  He got bored listening to the coach diagram plays. And he hated the awkward moments with the unfriendly players at the drinking fountain.

  At the end of practice, Coach Barker walked over to Jamal. In front of the whole team, he said, “I want you all to welcome the newest Cyclone to the team!”