Free Wheel Wizards by Matt Christopher

this?”
    Seth licked his lips. “Yeah, I guess. … I mean,
sure!
You?”
    Pete laughed nervously. “As ready as
you
are. I mean, Wes and Danny say we are.”
    “Right!” Seth took a deep breath. “So, let's go.”
    In the gym, half a dozen Wizards were scattered around the floor, shooting balls or working on their chairs. At first nobody
     seemed to notice the newcomers. Seth started out on the floor, and Pete followed.
    “They don't like us,” he whispered.
    “Be cool,” Seth whispered back. “They haven't known you long enough to dislike you.”
    “Very funny,” Pete muttered.
    A dark-haired boy in a sleeveless sweatshirt turned to them. “How you doing? Are you Seth and Pete? I'm Gil Marin.”
    Seth and Pete introduced themselves, and a few others came forward to give their names. One ofthem, a thin blond named Andy with muscular forearms and huge hands, gestured toward Seth's chair.
    “Great chair. That a Tornado?”
    Seth nodded. “Yeah, it's brand-new”
    “Ernie has a Tornado,” said Gil, looking around. “Guess he's not here yet. You guys want to get warm, grab a ball and shoot.”
    “Thanks,” Pete said, scooping up a loose ball and moving closer to a basket. Seth did the same, and lofted a twelve-footer
     than banged off the rim.
    As he put up a few shots, Seth began to relax, feeling comfortable in a familiar routine. A few other players arrived, including
     Ernie, whose chair was like Seth's, except that his wheels were angled more. There wasn't much chatter; everyone concentrated
     on their warmup.
    As Seth sank a fifteen-foot shot off the board, Ernie came up. “You like that chair?”
    Ernie looked to be sixteen and wore a baseball cap with the bill turned backward.
    “Yeah!” replied Seth. “You like yours?”
    “Uh-huh.” Ernie pointed down to the front wheels. “I adjusted the camber because I get morecontrol when I — we'll talk later. Here come the coaches.”
    Two men had arrived, one in a wheelchair, the other, walking. The one in the chair stuck two fingers in his mouth and gave
     a piercing whistle. The boys gathered around.
    “Everyone here?” asked the man who had whistled. He looked around and saw Seth and Pete. “I'm Howard Sturgis, and this is
     our other coach, Chan McGuire. Which of you is Seth and which is Pete?”
    The boys introduced themselves, and Howard saw that they had met the rest of the team.
    “We have a lot to do, so let's get to it,” said Chan. “For the benefit of the new guys — and anyone who needs reminding —
     we don't have stars here. We're a
team
, period. We don't do much warmup; you're expected to keep yourselves in shape.
    “What we do, mostly, in practice is learn offensive and defensive sets and plays and
drill
them. It'll be hard, especially at first, and you may find it dull. But you'll find that it will all pay off when we play.
     Any questions? Good.”
    The Wizards split into squads and ran plays. Theydidn't work on things like dribbling; you were supposed to know how. Seth couldn't remember ever working as hard.
    Each coach ran a squad, and they worked on weaves, single and double picks and screens, and other offenses, running them over
     and over as the coaches pointed out errors in positioning or mechanics, repeating each play until Seth ached and thought he
     might faint.
    Finally, just as Seth was ready to beg for a breather, Howard whistled. Seth was relived to see that the other players were
     also breathing hard and sweating. It wasn't just him.
    “Everyone, take ten,” Howard called out. “Then we'll run five-on-five plays and work defensive sets.”
    Pete groaned softly. “You mean we're not done? There's more?
Arrrggghhh!
”
    Ernie grinned at Pete. “You ready to hang it up? We're just getting started?”
    Pete rolled his eyes and said, “If I don't make it, tell my folks I loved 'em.”
    Gil and Ernie laughed.
    When practice resumed, the coaches went overdefensive sets the team would use: two-three,