Free Double Team by Amar'e Stoudemire Page B

along in the front of Dad’s big truck. “I know you guys are really busy right now.”
    â€œWouldn’t miss this one for the world,” said Dad. “Anyway, the extra guys I hired are good workers. They can keep things going for one day without the boss looking over their shoulders.”
    â€œAnd I’m just here to make sure you don’t slack off,” Junior said with a smile.
    â€œYeah, great,” I said. “Why do I get the feeling I’m going to have two bosses looking over my shoulders?”
    We kept joking around like that the whole ride. I was a little nervous about my first big-time tournament, and it helped me relax. Knowing that my dad and brother would be there to support me helped, too. Pretty soon we were pulling into the lot.
    â€œGood luck, STAT,” said Dad as I hopped down out of the truck.
    â€œGo get ’em, little brother,” said Junior. “And don’t forget to have fun out there.”
    As Dad wheeled the truck around the lot, hunting for the perfect spot, I headed for the sign-in table.
    â€œCan I help you?” said the man sitting at the table.
    â€œHe’s one of the players,” said a voice behind me.
    I wheeled around. It was Overtime.
    â€œYou ready, Amar’e?” he said, extending his hand.
    â€œAs I’ll ever be, Mr. Tanner,” I said, extending mine.
    His handshake was strong from a thousand one-handed jams.
    â€œYou still have some time before the game,” he said. “I’d advise you to use it.”
    He nodded over to the court, where a bunch ofkids were already warming up. I signed in fast and headed straight over. Jammer was the only guy I recognized.
    â€œHey, man,” I said.
    â€œWhat’s up?” he said.
    â€œAmar’e, this is Khalid,” he said, nodding toward a short, stocky kid next to him. “Khalid, this is Amar’e.”
    â€œHey,” I said. Khalid nodded.
    â€œHe may look like half a tree trunk,” said Jammer. “But he’s one of the best passers you’ll ever see.”
    â€œReally?” I said. I couldn’t help myself. This was our point guard? He was no taller than Deuce and not much thinner than Mike. Khalid laughed it off.
    â€œI get that a lot,” he said. “You’ll see.”
    â€œOur coach is over there,” said Jammer. “We’re waiting on the last few guys to start running some plays.”
    Instead of a bunch of short three-on-three games, the Overtime Invitational was just one five-on-five game. It was forty minutes long: four ten-minute quarters with a halftime thrown in for us to catch our breath. Jammer, Khalid, and I headed over to our coach.
    â€œYou Amar’e?” he said when I arrived.
    I nodded. I thought he’d introduce himself but he didn’t. “Yes, Coach,” I said.
    â€œOkay, I’m lining you up at power forward,” he said. “Jammer will be the center.”
    I looked over at Jammer. He had the height and the hops, but he was seriously mobile for a center. I guess Coach read my mind because he said, “We’re going to be fast out there. They won’t be able to match our speed.”
    We all looked over at the group of kids assembling on the other side of the court: the other team. Then I snuck another quick look at Khalid. His speed? Really?
    The other players arrived: a shooting guard named Brandon, a small forward named Eddie, a swingman type named Max. Coach told Max that he’d be starting the game on the bench but subbing in plenty.
    â€œOur seventh guy has the flu,” said Coach. “So you’ll all have plenty of playing time.”
    One sub and a forty-minute game? I was suddenly glad I’d been doing all that bike riding!
    We started off working on some plays on our half of the court. Khalid was definitely quicker than he looked, but it was hard to tell. We were just running throughthings sort of three-quarter