Free Double Team by Amar'e Stoudemire Page A

banging into each other playing one-on-two or two-on-one. This whole week had been two-on-one! But it didn’t seem like we should be practicing for a tournament we weren’t going to either. I hit a crazy shot warming up, and that gave me an idea.
    â€œLet’s play Crazy Horse,” I said.
    â€œI don’t know,” said Deuce. “I loved that when I was, like, nine, but …”
    â€œCome on,” I said. “It’s fun.”
    We used to love to play H-O-R-S-E, where you all have to make the same shot or you get a letter, but wecalled this Crazy Horse because all the shots had to be crazy or they didn’t count. Plus, there were twice as many letters, so the games lasted longer.
    â€œI’m in,” said Mike. “I’m gonna whup you guys.”
    That challenge was enough for Deuce. “In your dreams!” he said. “I’ll go first.”
    Right away, he went into his patented move.
    â€œOh, no!” I called out as soon as I saw him start spinning.
    He spun fifteen times around to his left, then fifteen times to his right.
    â€œI’m gonna lose my lunch just watching this!” said Mike. “Why’d we let him go first?”
    â€œI forgot about this!” I said.
    Deuce spun around thirty times total, all really fast. Then he stopped and launched a ten-foot jumper. It rattled around the rim and dropped in. Mike and I tried to match him, but we couldn’t. By the time we’d spun around all those times, we were way too dizzy. My shot barely even hit the backboard!
    â€œThese little guys spin like tops!” said Mike.
    Just like that, he and I both had C and Deuce was inthe lead. But it was a really good game after that because we all had things we did well. Deuce was a master of the quick moves. Mike spent so much time in the post that he could hit crazy shots in close. And I, well, I had some game myself.

    But after a while, it wasn’t even about who was going to win. It was just about trying the craziest shots we could think of. It was about having fun. Half an hour later, I already had C-R-A-Z and now I had to match Mike’s shot. He’d hit a left-handed hook shot while hopping away from the hoop on his right foot. I was lucky to even get iron.
    â€œYou are now officially C-R-A-Z-Y!” said Mike.
    â€œI think we all are,” I said, cracking up.
    Deuce had been surprising me with his shots all game. Now he said something that surprised me more: “Just don’t try any of these at the Overtime Invitational.”
    â€œYou serious, man?” I said. We still hadn’t really talked about Saturday.
    â€œYeah,” he said, shrugging his shoulders a little. “It would be crazy not to go to something like that. I guess I was a little mad when I thought you were big-timingus. But we’re friends first. If we can still hang out and play hoops and have fun afterward, I don’t mind you being a little big-time.”
    â€œSo you won’t be mad if I play in the invitational?” I said.
    Now Mike spoke up. “Now that I really think about it,” he said. “I think we’d be mad if you didn’t.”
    I looked at both of them: Mike and Deuce, my best friends.
    â€œYou guys better give me some space right now,” I said.
    â€œWhy’s that?” said Deuce.
    â€œâ€™Cause otherwise I really will hug you,” I said.
    â€œRun for the hills!” cried Mike.
    But none of us ran anywhere. It’s impossible to run when you’re laughing that hard.
    â€œWhat about you guys?” I said after we’d finally gotten back to the game.
    â€œI don’t know,” said Deuce. “Maybe we’ll come watch you.”
    I thought about it. “Nah,” I said. “I think I’ve got a better idea.”

D ad and Junior both took Saturday morning off to come watch the tournament.
    â€œThanks for coming,” I said as the three of us rode