shot. And if we do that, even if we lose we can still walk out with our heads high.â
That wasnât exactly the inspirational pregame talk Iâd been hoping for. Basically he was saying that we were not very good, but they werenât very good either, so because of that we had a slight chance of winning â but if we didnât win, it would be okay.
At least this game was being played at another school. Usually you were supposed to like playing at home, in front of the kids from your school. That had just been embarrassing. It was better to lose in front of strangers and then walk away, hoping youâd never have to see them again.
The ref blew his whistle again. It was game time.
âOkay everybody, listen up. Start off weâre going to go with Marcus, Kingsley, Dean, Mohammed and Bojan. Go out there and play!â
The five of them stood up. Marcus looked at me, shrugged, and gave me a âwhat can you do about itâ sort of look.
Roy shifted down the bench until he was right tight beside me. I had a rush of fear and had to fight the urge to quickly move away.
âDonât worry,â he said quietly. âHe wants to see what the other team looks like before he puts us out as a unit.â
âYou really think so?â
âIf he doesnât, then maybe we have to try and convince him. Besides, who knows, maybe we donât need the press for this ââ
Roy stopped as the other team came down and scored the first basket of the game.
* * *
âThis isnât too bad at all,â Mr. Roberts said.
What game was he watching, I wondered. It was half-time and we were down twenty-seven to seventeen.
âThis is the closest weâve ever been at half-time before,â he continued.
âGreat, so we have our closest loss of the season,â Roy grumbled.
âWith that attitude we donât have a chanceat winning,â Mr. Roberts said.
âItâs not my
attitude
thatâs the problem!â Roy snapped.
âI donât think thatâs a fair statement to make, Roy,â Mr. Roberts said. âWeâve been losing, but I donât think any of your team-mates have given up.â
âIâm not talking about my teammates or
their
attitude. Iâm talking about you.â
There was stunned silence. Nobody said a word. Nobody seemed to even breath.
âWe can beat this team,â Roy said. âIf you let us.â
âHeâs right, sir,â Marcus agreed.
âLet us put on the press,â Kia said.
âJust to see if it works,â I added.
âThe press would work,â Dean chipped in.
âGive it a chance,â Rajinder agreed and everybody else nodded their heads in agreement.
âAnd if it doesnât work, then we shut up. All of us,â Roy said.
We all sat there, waiting for Mr. Roberts to say something⦠anything. He looked like he was thinking. That was a good sign. Unless he was thinking we were a bunch of rude kids who he didnât want to coach anymore.
âIâve already listed the starting five on my clipboard,â he said quietly, tapping the board with his finger. âAnd nothing that youâve said has changed my mind in the least about that.â
He werenât going to let us play â everything that was said was for nothing.
âThat isnât ââ
âButton it!â Mr. Roberts said, cutting Roy off. âAnd here are the starting five for the next half,â he said, turning the clipboard so we could see it. In big red letters were the names Marcus, Kingsley, Roy, Nick and Kia.
He was going to play us all along!
âNow letâs get out there and play!â
We got up and everybody cheered and screamed, the sound echoing off the walls of the change room as we ran out the door and into the gym. The other team had been warming up already, but they all stopped and stared as we came out yelling.
It was the other teamâs
1796-1874 Agnes Strickland, 1794-1875 Elizabeth Strickland, Rosalie Kaufman